In The Bag

As you’re walking home, a thought occurs, you haven’t had meat in a while, and it seems all that these damn ponies eat are apples. You’d could use for a thick, juicy T-bone steak right about now. Sighing with rueful despair and opening your door to your dark, lonely house. You remember that it’s still trashed and sit down on your couch, too lazy to clean any of it or fix the holes you punched in the wall. Checking the clock, you see it’s 6:27 pm. Too late to go to work with Applejack today, you’ll have to wait until the following day.

Getting up, you feel your mind recede and realize how tired you are. You feel like a zombie as you grab ten bits and head off to Sugar Cube Corner. The sun is setting and a mellow, sepia glow is cast over the town. You notice that Carousel Boutique is closed early, the blinds closed, and, maybe only because you know why it is and what’s inside, the building seems as if its’ not as erect as before, almost drooping. As if the clothing shop itself is experiencing the immense pain and distraught that you know Rarity is. You shake your head, close your eyes and try to forget about it.

Nearing SCC you walk inside with your head down and ask for a muffin and some oats. You are told your order will be ready in about 15 minutes.  Sitting down and holding your head in your hands you try to think about work tomorrow or the party the previous night. You nearly fall asleep at your table and Mr. Cake notices “Broseph….Broseph!” You awake and go get your meal, giving him an extra 3 bits. He thanks you and gives a smile. You try to smile back, you really do, but it’s just not in you right now. Returning to your table, you reluctantly eat, finishing only about 1/10 of your meal (which wasn’t that bad, as lame as this society is for not eating meat, they make one hell of a muffin.) With a quiet sigh, you rise from your table and, still with your head down, slowly leave. You’re seeing specks and having trouble walking in a straight line, now. You really do need sleep. Still, you take the long way home, and as you’re walking by, finally notice the sun has fully set now, only street lamps and lit windows shedding a smooth, golden light on the darkened path you walk to this place you’re supposed to call home. This is not your home. You walk in and don’t bother locking the door. You collapse on the floor, the final sight you see being the webbed patterns of the bland light brown ceiling.

You wake up and check your clock, it’s only 2 in the morning. You sit up and look around at your uncared for house. Rotting, half eaten caramel apples litter the floor, and deflated balloons droop around the furniture. You stand up and notice a metal chair that Pinkie had left from the party. It’s right where Lyra was sitting around the table the night of the party. You think of the note she left. “Come and find me if you want your bag back ;) , Lyra <3.” She wasn’t trying to mess with you. She wasn’t trying to hurt you or steal the bag for herself. She just wanted to try to be cute and spend time with you. And you killed her. “Oh god…” You killed her. You remember so clearly her screams and cries, the way her voice faltered when she told you where the bag was. “Lyra…” You can still see, crystal clear in your head, the look of deep emotional hurt in her eyes when you hit her. She was probably excited, waiting for you to come over, thinking of stuff you two could do together. And you killed her. The images of her broken body on those stairs so engrained into your mind you can actually see them when you close your eyes. She looked up to you. You killed her. “Oh fuck Lyra….I’m so sorry…”

A lone tear escapes your eye and that was it. The guilt is overwhelming, you can’t help but burst into tears and screaming. You don’t care if you wake everyone in Ponyville. You killed her. You want so bad just to bring her back. Why didn’t you feel this before? The thought of your sociopathic guilt-free attitude the day before only is adding to the reasons for the tears to keep flowing. Through your tears and screams all you can say is “Lyra, I’m so sorry” Repeatedly. Why did you have to do this? You remember what you did to Rarity. You know in your heart it could be worse than what you did to poor sweet Lyra. Your heart sinks into your stomach, burned by the acid of your thoughtless, cruel actions.  However, the tears have almost stopped flowing, and you sniffle and curl into the fetal position on the floor. You dryly cry yourself to sleep.

A knock at the door wakes you up this time, you know you deserve for it to be police. You rise and check the clock: 8:30. You walk over to the door and slowly open it. It’s Twilight and Rainbow Dash. “Hey buddy, it’s almost time, the funeral starts at 9….. You’re coming right?” RD says softly. “Yeah, I’m coming….you’re sure there’s no way to bring her back with magic, Twilight?” you ask. “I’m sorry, Broseph. There’s nothing we can do…” “Oh….al-alright then…” you say slowly, fighting tears and trying to not let them hear when your voice falters. “I’ll get ready then.” You say goodbye and shut the door.  You get dressed with the black cargo pants and army jacket, the closest thing to formal clothing you own. You don’t know if you’ll be able to handle being at her funeral. This is going to be a very long day.

You have an idea, and as crazy as it is, it just might work and it's the only chance to redeem yourself. You make sure to bring your knife and a plastic bag. Accidentally, you catch a glimpse of your reflection in the bathroom mirror and move closer to it. What you see disgusts you. You can't bear to look anymore and hang your head. A queasy feeling rises from your gut. You balls your fists and let a tear fall into the sink. You vomit the muffin and oats from last night into the sink. Rarity was right. You are a monster. A cold, heartless monster. You look up and see exactly that. The monster looks at you and you can't take it, hitting it as hard as you can. The mirror shatters and several pieces are lodged in your right hand. You pull them out and wrap a bandage around it. You don't have time for this. Just as you're about to leave guilt washes over you like molten lava and you grab your other 40 bits.

You leave and close the door, again, not locking it. Beginning your walk to the funeral you notice just how gray the sky over Ponyville is. It seems to match the mood of the town right about now.  The clouds seem to come down and envelope you, taking the light away and leaving only the monster and his thoughts. You close your eyes and try to focus on getting to the funeral.When you get to the building the ceremony will be held in before the burial you notice the casket is nowhere in sight. Neither is anypony that you know, which is a plus, you don't think you could look them in the eye now.

You sneak through a door on the left and find yourself in a small hallway, with three doors on either side. The walls are as gray and plain as the clouds outside and you try not to look directly as them. Checking each room you find nothing of interest in any of the first 5. "Please be in here..." You grasp the golden handle and close your eyes, opening the shiny, well maintained wooden door.

Inside you see Lyras' casket. Nopony is in any of the rooms in the hallway, too. You still check behind you and close the door quietly, hoping that nopony saw you enter the hallway in the first place. You quickly but quietly move over to the casket and open it. You see the burnt body of Lyra. Tears well up in your eyes as you pull out your knife and plastic bag and turn her over. You slice deep into her back and cut out a chunk of her muscle, which you place in the plastic bag, along with a small amount of hair(which wasn't burnt because she was laying on her back when she was burned...by you..). You have to really fight not to start bawling right there. "Poor sweet little Lyra....I'm so sorry... All I can do now is try, and I'll be double damned if I'll give up now." You kiss the fur on her back and close the casket, making sure to turn her back over beforehand.

The realization hits you like an a-bomb. Jesus Christ you've lost your mind. You think of all the reasons you're crazy and the instability is at the forefront. You could be a remorseless psychotic killer, which is fun, but you've got a "human" side too. Guess you'll just have to work through these two vastly different personalities. You had been diagnosed with depression and bi-polar back on Earth, but never something this fucked up. One thing is for sure though, and both sides of you knew this equally well. You're not going to jail. Ever.

The guilt is slowly fading, the glee and sociopathic humor is returning to the helm of your mind, but you know whatever you do in this state, you'll regret later. As it takes full effect and drowns the remains of your empathetic self you smile and turn to leave the room, brushing off this unsettling truth for the enjoyment of the funeral. Suddenly you remember you're not supposed to be in the room alone with the casket of the pony you brutally murdered, dumbass. Quickly turning the handle of the door and checking for anypony around. Nope. You're walking back to the main room thinking of cruel things to do to Rarity, when you notice your hand is red with Lyra's blood. Shit. You're getting sloppy. You can't get sloppy, that's rule number one of killing for fun. Once you've cleaned the lid of the casket, the door handles and your hand itself, you're ready to check for anypony outside that hallway. Again, you're in the clear, are these ponies stupid, or do they just give everyone the benefit of the doubt?

Joining the crowd you look around and see Applejack waving you down.You walk over and see Rarity looking down and slowly backing away. You have to really try not to smirk. It's getting harder to hide your joy. A LOT harder. "How're ya doin sugarcube?" AJ asks you. "Better. I think. I don't know i smoked a lot of weed before this. Feel kinda numb now." "Well don't be doin' it all the time, sugarcube, ya gotta come back to reality some time. but, well if ya wouldn't mind sharin' ah could use some after this thing." She replies, sheepishly. "Of course, anypony else is welcome to partake if they wanna." Fluttershy, RD and Pinkie agree to meet up at your house after. You smile weakly at them and watch as everypony takes their seats. You decide to make life easier and try to help out your other side.

You walk over to Rarity and call her name softly. She turns around slowly and looks up at you with sad, tired eyes. There is no glisten in them, they look almost as lifeless as Lyra's did. You Squat down to her eye level and look at her with sad eyes as well. "Why, Broseph, why so cruel. I simply don't see how a creature can be so heartless." You reply with "I don't either" "What does that mean?" "Follow me, we need to talk" She's reluctant, but follows you into a hallway opposite the one containing the casket. "Listen, I'm not here to tell you what I did was okay, it wasn't in any fucking way. It was disgusting and evil. But there is more to this story than you know."

"W-what do you mean" she says, sniffling. " I'm fucked in the head." You pause and look around for any others that may be listening in or spying on you and back to Rarity. Her nose is scrunched up and it's kinda cute. "There's two people in my head, and they're always fighting for control. I can barely control them and sometimes it gets WAY out of hand...err..hoof, like before."

"So....you're not the same you that did that to Lyra?" She replies.

"And you. I don't know which was worse, but essentially yes. Weed helps me control it completely, but when Lyra took it I felt like I might never get it back and he took that chance to take over completely. He only hurts those he doesn't know and I barely know any of you. I'm so sorry he...I did that to you and Lyra." You actually feel tears coming on and try to stop them, but fail miserably. "I'm so sorry....I can't even....I'm so sorry." She puts her hoof on your shoulder and you look up at her. She stares angrily into your eyes for what seems like hours but it probably only about 30 seconds before changing her disposition into an empathetic look. You feel "Him" recede into the very back of your mind, further from control than you can remember since he first began appearing in your head when you were 12. She wipes your tears away and lowers her hoof. "You can beat him Broseph. I remember how fun and kind you were at that party when you got here. That's you. You're not a souless monster. I know you can beat him. Without weed, but for now take it slow, think everything through. I'm here for you. You. Not him."

"You don't have to...I don't deserve it."

"You DO deserve it, darling, I hate him, not you. I want to help you, but I can only help you if you let me."

"A-alright. Thank you so much Rarity."

You turn around and head back to your seat for the funeral. The service is long and every word of the eulogy makes you want to gut your wrist. "God I hope there's a way to fix this.", you say to yourself. Thinking maybe Zecora will have some witch doctor-esque way of bringing the dead back to life. Come hell or high water you'll make this whole thing right. How can you live with yourself if you don't? You can't. You know if you fail or there's nothing you can do you'll end up on the end of a rope. The casket in brought out and carried to the lot outside as ponies shuffle outside for the burial. Fuck that. You drop your 40 bits in Raritys' purse when she's not looking and leave the event. You walk quickly home and grab your bag, a piece of fancy paper rarity gave you the night of the party, and a pen. Writing on it one sentence that only Rarity will understand.

"I will make this right or die trying. I'm sorry. ~ Broseph Stalin"

You attach it to the front of your door with a bag of 8 joints for those who wanted to partake after the funeral, that you wouldn't be able to meet, and head to a general store near the center of town, which is much less crowded, with many of the towns inhabitants attending the funeral. You enter and see a stallion behind the counter. You recognize him from the party. You walk over and take out 2 ounces of weed and a lighter. "This is yours. I don't have any bits, is that cool?" He looks stunned and smiles. "Hell yeah that's cool!" He grabs it and emits a high pitched laugh, which you remember emitting when you bought your first ounce. "Thanks man." "No, no thank YOU!" he responds, before disappearing into the back room and a grin on his face.  You grab a similar looking dufflebag to the one which you brought with you and begin filling it with bottled water and canned foods, rope, bug spray, and a tent. As you leave, determined to find a way to fix your horrid......mistake? No....it was not a mistake, it was an intentional murder. You'll fix your horrid choice, then, you say to yourself as you head towards the Everfree forest, where you first stumbled out of a few days before.

You glance down at a "Friendship map" that pinkie pie had given you when you arrived. You, previously, had never even conceived of such faggotry. It shows, unlike the town map the mayor had given you, where in the fuck Zecora was. You follow the map and sure enough after about 3 miles and one hour a strange looking abode came into your view through the thick brush and dead tree limbs. It was in a tree, like the town library, but with weird voodoo-esque masks on the trunk and bottles and bags hanging from the limbs. You walk up to the door and knock on that nigga. A goddamn zebra answers the door. Fucking Christ. ""Yes, what do you need?" She asks. "Uhh... are you Zecora?" "Yes that is me." Is her reply. "Right well i have some questions to ask you, if you're not busy, I don't think anyone else can help me." She eyes you suspiciously for a moment, then smiles and tells you to come inside.

You sit in a chair opposite her at a table as she brings in some tea, and pours you and her a cup. You take a sip and she asks what you need to know. "I need to know if there's any way, even with the slightest possibility of success, to bring a pony back from the dead." She sighs and stands, "Seeing the look of determination on your face, i guess i already knew why you had come here." She walks over to a bookcase and pulls a book from the top shelf, before placing it on the table in front of you. It is adorned with etched skulls and colorful fabric. Its' title is not in English."I have done this successfully twice before. I have attempted this 112 times before. Are you still interested in this?" You look up at her and think about how Lyra must've felt when you hit her, and the townspeople crying at the funeral. "Yes. I. Am." She downs the rest of her tea and opens the book. She pulls out a piece of old paper with writing on it and hands it to you. You look down to read the paper but she pulls your head back up with a hoof. "You must know, I've had to break the news to 110 families that another of their loved ones had perished. This task is extremely dangerous, but if you feel up to it, that is a list of ingredients to a brew which will, when combined with hair or flesh from the deceased and Everfree tree bark, will begin to regrow their body for 12 hours, then they will stay asleep for 48 hours, before awaking with all their memories.". You stutter....."A-all their memories?" She nods and looks at you slyly, "Should I keep this a secret from anyone else?" "YES." She sighs and says okay and to look at the list now. Its' details are as follows.

• One dragon head (within 3 days of its' death at the time of placement in the final brew.

• 2 dozen roses

-3 dragon eggs

-1/2 lb of Everfree dirt

-1/2 cup of the brewmakers' blood

"Wait, so I have to-" She cuts you off. "Yes, you must kill a dragon, bring back it's head and eggs, and get a 1/2 cup of your blood." "shit" "Are you sure you still want to do this?" She asks, softly. "There is no other way. I'm in 100%."

She tells you she will gather the roses, dirt and tree bark while you are gone, she will also look for a less painful way to extract blood from you. As you're getting up she asks you if you plan on getting the sample of the flesh of the deceased. You give her a pained look and reluctantly pull the bag out of your pocket. She looks at you with wide eyes. "Don't ask." She shrugs and places the bag in her ice box. You say your goodbyes and head deeper into the forest, in the direction she said the dragons were. You load and cock your Glock and look around nervously, before popping 3 Adderall. It's dusk but you don't care, you're killing that dragon and slicing its' head off as soon as possible. As you see the sun setting in the distance, you think to yourself that this all might just work out. You think back to the other times you've thought/said that before and the consequential events.

"Uh-Oh."