In The Bag

by kokainmadness

Rating: mature
Tags: Dark, Human, Comedy
Length: 7958

A Young Man is transported to Equestria, with a bag of goodies!

Young drug-addled Broseph is transported to Equestria one night, awakening in the Everfree forest with a bag of his favorite things: Weapons and drugs! How will the ponies of Equestria react to his wacky drug fueled antics and eventual debauchery? He's loving it in Equestria, everypony's his friend and he's happy most of the time, nothing can get in his way… except himself. But does he want that?

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2013-03-27 19:55:20 UTC

Arrival

Your head is pounding, you awake in a forest and cringe at the sun assaulting your vision and focus. “Why are my clothes so torn up?” you ask yourself, before remembering they were torn up before this little adventure in the forest. “What the fuck did I smoke last night, I swear if Dave laced my shit he’s dead” you say aloud. Getting to your feet you stumble and trip over a large duffle bag you failed to notice before. “What’s this bag doing here?” you ask yourself as you don’t remember ever seeing it before. It’s a simple black duffle bag but you’ve never had one like it. It seems pretty full, so, of course, you open it. “Jesus H Fuck” you say with a grin. Glorious, glorious drugs galore. You take a look and sample some of the chemical happiness. After 15 minutes of seeing what’s there you have emptied the bag and took a list of its’ contents. It contains:

-4 pounds of sweet, stinky weed. It’s rainbow colored and about 1/3 is already rolled up. “AWWWWWYEEAAAAAHHHH!”

-350 40 mg Adderall pills. You pop two of them to curb your hunger and keep you focused, no sense in getting super fucked up when you already don’t know where you are, as tempting as it is, and it’s really tempting.

-2.5 pounds of coke. A test bump reveals it’s genuinity to you.

-A ton of acid, you didn't count of course, but you suspect it’s 6-8 hundred hits. Now you REALLY hope this isn’t a dream.

-8 oz. of shrooms, dried.

-5 pounds of tobacco, cigarette tubes to match and a manual rolling machine.

-7 bic lighters.

-1 large pocket knife

-A few various bottles of spirits, you were never crazy about drinking, you preferred to smoke stuff, but were still glad you had it.

-.40 cal Glock 22 with 125 rounds….”these are hollow point…now I hope I run into a cop” You smile a devious grin.

-Clean, new cargo pants, shirt and army-style jacket, complete with seemingly durable boots, they’re all perfectly your size and dark colored.

“Something fishy’s goin’ on” you say. Why would someone give thousands of dollars worth of glorious glorious drugs and weapons away for free, and how did they know your size for the clothing?

Refilling the bag and looking up you see the sun at the top of the sky, it’s about noon. Looking around you see that there doesn’t seem to be anything but forest in any direction, so you might as well pick a direction and follow it. You begin walking, with the bag of course, to what you think is the west, if you’re correct, you get a little bit more sunlight than if you’d gone the opposite way.

It’s been 9 hours or so since you’ve started walking, still only woods, you feel more thirsty than ever before, and are even more glad that you didn’t smoke copious amounts of weed yet. Yet. Now you were sure you were walking west, but didn’t have any shelter, which was worrying, you didn’t know what lived in these woods, and assumed the more dangerous creatures came out at night, so you climb into a tree and lay back, load the G22 and keep it ready, safety on though. You very slowly drift off to sleep, more easily as the speed wears off more and more.

You awake again, not feeling rested, but laying in a tree isn’t very comfortable, you hop out and only then notice how very, very dark it is, looking around you don’t see any light source, and decide to start walking again, taking a small line of snow to wake up more. After about 45 minutes it starts getting lighter out, still no sign of light or civilization, “Fuck it” You take out 6 grams of shrooms, 2 blunts and 4 hits of acid. After feasting on these yummy drugs, you are higher than you’ve ever been, and stumble through the forest, rambling on and on about nonsense, until you notice it’s day again, and through the brush you see it, a town. A TOWN! You’re saved… but your precious drugs…you’re too high to care and stumble closer to the town, giggling and talking nonsense. You find yourself dancing/walking/skipping into the town, with a large joint in your mouth, singing a song you made up about nonsense. Falling over several times, but not letting your beautiful joint hit the ground, you are stumbling when you fall down a hill, a single tear of mournful sorrow escaping your eye when your joint falls and you roll over it, ruining it. You’ll have to have a funeral later.

You fall face first onto the dirt road of the town you’re now in. You lay there for a moment, wondering if you should go to sleep or not, when you roll over and see a shitload of horses staring at you…no, not horses, they’re too small, each about a foot and a half shorter than you, and their eyes were huge, also they had small designs on their ass, each of them different, they were pastel colored, too.  You sit up and try to stand but stumble and fall on your ass, staring back at the neon ponies watching you with quizzical and concerned looks on their little faces. You finally are able to say something. “What?” You ask the group of 30 or so ponies. All their eyes go wide and a few back away from you. “What? Why are looking at me like that?” Hushed banter occurs between most of the ponies, the rest staring wide-eyed at you in what you perceive to be disbelief. You stand up slowly, stumbling. You remember the mushrooms and acid you took and figure you must be tripping balls, so you start to walk into the town when a blue flying pony with a rainbow colored mane stops you, “Hey, you can talk?!?!!” she asks/yells at you. You were lost staring at her mane, which was dripping rainbows onto the ground and swirling, fractal patterns appearing in and around it. “Holy shit I can’t even th-“ You start to speak but everything fades to black as you pass out and hit the ground. You had forgotten that you hadn’t eaten or drank in about 5 days.

Light. It’s blinding and making your eyes strain, you sit up and look around. You’re in a hospital, nobody’s in your room, taking the tubes and shit out of your arm you sit up and get out of bed, and after a few minutes of looking, find your clothes. After you’re dressed you remember the bag. “OH SHIT.” You kick open the door and are stopped by a doctor, you grab his coat and get in his face. He looks absolutely terrified. “WHERE THE FUCK IS MY BAG??” You scream at him. He pulls away and points to a storage closet down the hall, he tells you to stop after you begin bolting towards it, sending a nurse over to unlock the door before you break it down. You’re handed….or hoofed your bag and open it to find all your precious drugs and weapons still there.

You breathe a huge sigh of relief, and walk back over to the doctor, and you can see the fear in his eyes, you tell him you’re very sorry, weren’t thinking straight and that the things in the bag are very important to you, only two of which were lies. He tells you it’s okay, patients react differently and he’s glad that you came back to apologize. “So can I leave now?” You ask. “Yes but you’ll have to meet with the mayor, you’re not in trouble, she just wants to talk.” “Oh alright, thanks for letting me stay here, doc.”

You part ways and exit the hospital, to see every pony in the area suddenly stare at you, it’s annoying,  but they’re still saying hello….a lot. Why are they so friendly? Are you in a coma? Dead? Sleeping? You’ve got no clue so you make your way to where the doctor said the mayor’s building was. You find it quickly, and a security guard stops you and tells you where her office is. You thank him and continue on your way, and just outside the mayor’s office another guard stops you and asks to check your bag, you oblige, you can easily destroy him if he tries anything. He confiscates your knife only, leaving the glock and drugs. You stare at him in disbelief and then realize this society doesn’t know what guns are. They better not piss you off. You smile at the thought, he thinks you’re being warm and friendly and smiles back, which makes you stifle a small chuckle.

You open the door and enter the mayor’s office, saying hello to her and sitting down with your bag. She begins asking you about what you are and you tell her you just woke up in the forest a few days before, and a very little bit about your world. She is perplexed and enthralled but has another meeting so she says you seem trustworthy (heh) and gives you a town map and keys to a house on the other side on the town, which is apparently called Ponyville.

You leave the building, and get your knife back. You light a cigarette and make your way to your new home, ignoring the stares, greetings, and questions of ponies throughout the town, when a pony you can’t ignore gets in your face, she’s entirely pinky and poofy, and stares at you for a few seconds “Hey, what’s up” You say, all she does is gasp very loudly and run away. “Dafuck?” You shake your head and continue home, when you see a general store, you begin to walk and then remember you have no money, without any friends, you go inside and ask the clerk if there’s anywhere around town you can work, he tells you to see a pony named Applejack at a farm called “Sweet Apple Acres”.

You thank him and head in the direction he told you to, and see an orange pony with apples tattooed on her ass bucking an apple tree. “This is probably her” You walk over and she greets you warmly, after talking for a while and being offered many different apple dishes and meeting her extended family (should’ve gotten high first…) she tells you she’ll pay you for chopping lumber, which you gladly accept. Several hours later, you’ve made 50 “bits” their currency, apparently.

As you’re walking home, you notice there’s nobody around and it puts you on edge, you keep checking behind you and pop two Adderall. You open the door for the pink pony from before to scream surprise in your face. You yell and punch her in the face, hard, and pull out your knife when Apple jack screams for you to stop. You look up and see all the ponies that were around town in your house, with party hats and frilly shit everywhere.  The pink pony is crying and everyone else is scowling at you. You briefly consider blowing your brains out but decide against it, for the time being. Applejack explains they were throwing you a party, so you help the pink pony up and apologize profusely. She jumps up and hugs you saying it’s okay, and telling you why she invited all the ponies and set the party up. You try to tell her you don’t like parties, but she won’t stop talking, so you go over to the couch and sit down.

You are soon surround by a few different ponies, the pink one introduces herself as Pinkie Pie, the rainbow maned one you saw before you passed out a few days earlier says her name is Rainbow Dash. Others around you introduce themselves as Fluttershy, Rarity, Twilight, Lyra, Vinyl Scratch, Octavia, and Derpy. You try not to lol when you hear Derpys’ name because she’s cross eyed. What terrible parents.

You open your bag and crush up some speed into a line, about 100 mg. They all look at you like you’re insane, and when you snort it they all gasp. You realize how weird it must look to them and laugh.  Tell them what it is, Rainbow asks for some and you give her a pill to take orally. You get an idea, smile and open the bag again, taking out two blunts and an 8 ball. Putting a line on the table you tell RD to snort it. She hesitates, then does and freezes for a second, you panic, you really don’t know if it’ll have the same effect on her and don’t want her to die or something. She smiles and jumps up and starts lfying all over the place, bouncing off the walls laughing. Crisis averted.

You laugh and light the first blunt and after showing them all the basics of smoking, pass it to your left, to Octavia. She takes way too much for her first time and starts coughing like crazy, grabbing onto you and crying while coughing, the others look at you disapprovingly and you look down at her and pat her on the back till she stops coughing, she sits for a while sniffling and you ask if she wants to take another hit. You brace yourself for screaming but she actually agrees. She takes this one like a champ and only coughs a little, not taking nearly as much smoke in. You smile at her and ask how she’s feeling, she says normal. You frown, and insist she take 2 more, she does; the last of which didn’t make her cough at all. You feel like a proud father as she stares at fluttershy for 10 seconds and falls over onto your lap, giggling and talking nonsense. She’s feeling it.  She sits up and laughs, before taking another hit, and passes it to pinkie pie. All the other ponies sitting around you tell you to light the other so they can get it faster and you smile and do so. These horses are going to love you…..not in that way….maybe.

20 minutes later they were all laughing and petting each other and themselves “I’m soooo soffttttt!” Pinkie exclaimed, petting her mane and giggling. You were extremely pleased with yourself, and made sure to hide your bag of happiness before joyfully passing out on the floor with all the stoned ponies. This could be a good life, if you didn't get in your way…

There's a First Time For Everything

You wake up 6 hours later, dizzy and groggy. You slowly rise to your feet and walk to your room to get some “breakfast”. Upon reaching your bedroom, you notice your door is ajar. “no.” you quickly kick it open and check your closet, the door is open and your sweet, precious bag is gone “NO.”, replaced by a note:

Come find me if you want your bag back ;)

     , Lyra <3

“NOOOOOOO!!!” You still have your knife, and upon returning to the living room for your jacket, notice the 8ball from last night is still there. You feel a rage building in your gut, burning your insides and setting your head on fire. You grab the 8ball and take out 1.5 grams for a line. As soon as you’re done sniffing it you feel the anger build up too much and punch a few holes in the wall. You look at your bloody hand and remember how Lyra kept staring at them and complimenting you on them all night, and that it creeped you out but you didn’t say anything. You clench your hand into a fist and look at the map of Ponyville the mayor gave you, finding Lyras’ house, about a 10 minute walk…or stomp.  You hear the birds chirping and want to gut them all, "It's always fucking something” you say bitterly. You slide the last gram of coke into your pocket and feel lightheaded. The rage is coming back as you think of what she could be doing, what if she’s smoking your weed, what if she’s EATING your weed? “WHAT IF SHE FLUSHED IT?” You scream with rage and kick your door open as you stomp outside, in the direction of Lyras’ house.

You’re walking quickly, when Twilight and Applejack try to stop you, you ignore them and Applejack gets in your way. “You can’t just ignore your friends Broseph! Is something wrong?” You stop and start staring her down, clenching your fists, you know she’s your friend but you want to knock her the fuck out. “Uhhh…I’ll just uh, get out of your way then…” She moves and you continue on your way to Lyras’.

When your see the house the anger comes back and you smell weed smoke. Now you’re seeing red, You sprint to her door, swing it open and slam it shut. Once inside you see her quivering with fear in the corner and pick her up by the throat. You dough her in the face and stomach a few times and slam her head into the wall, before screaming at her “WHERE THE FUCK DID YOU PUT MY BAG YOU FUCKING CUNT?!” She whimpers and sniffles, through tears she tells you it’s in her basement. You drag her by her mane towards the basement, she’s screaming and crying, pleading for you to stop and apologizing, you throw her down the cement basement stairs and follow. You walk over her and see your bag in the corner, opening it you find that its’ contents have been shuffled through, but everything’s there. You turn back to Lyra and-“OH SHIT.” She’s got at least 5 broken ribs, 3 broken legs, one of which has bone protruding from the skin, teeth and blood splatters littering the staircase. As you step closer to her you turn her over and gasp. Her head was caved in at the temple, blood and bits of gray matter leaking out of the horrendous newly formed hole in her head. “Yeaaaahhhh…she’s probably dead.” You say to yourself. After a minute or so of pacing and panicking about what to do you see a large centipede crawling on the wall of her basement. “Ewww kill it with fire…..fire….FIRE! I’VE GOT IT!”

You take her body and drag it to the center of the bathroom, taking out the hairdryer and plugging it in, you soak her body in alcohol from the medicine cabinet and pile paper towels around her. You spray the flammable liquid all over the house and throw your bag out the open back window, before lighting and dropping a piece of paper, which sets the once living Unicorns’ once cozy home ablaze. You dive out the window, grab your bag and sprint through the woods towards your home. After checking for anypony around, you sneak to your own door and get back inside, take the note she left, burn it and place your bag back in your closet.

You sit on your bed and lie back, taking the situation in. You hear sirens and smile; your ruse must be working so far. You light a cigarette and try to think of any loose ends there might be, deciding that if Twilight and Applejack think anything you can say you were going for a walk and were pissed off because everypony at the party the previous night left your house trashed. “This just might work out.” You smile and say to yourself. You decide to go to sleep as there’s nothing you can do now. You also decide to slow down on the drugs for a few days so you don’t let anything slip to point to your guilt.

You awaken only 30 minutes later to a knocking at your door. You quickly mentally prepare and convince yourself you have no idea what it could be about.  You answer the door, it’s RD and Rarity. “Hey guys, what’s up?” you ask, acting perfectly calm, “I got some bad news…there was a fire…” RD says, “oh my god, where?” you ask, seemingly concerned “Lyras’ house…..” she replies. “Oh fuck, she wasn’t home was she?” “She was…” “Is she oka-“ “She’s gone, buddy, she was drying her mane and the sink was on….it started a fire…” You force yourself to choke up and produce a tear. “no….no… no she’s gotta be fine, she’s not gone..” You say through your false tears. “I’m so sorry, Broseph…. There was nothing the doctors could do” She hugs you and you see Rarity staring you down, you give her a very sad look and seem sad but calm on the outside. “The funeral’s the day after tomorrow…. We hope you can come.” “Of course I can come…I wouldn’t miss it for the world...poor sweet Lyra.” Now Rarity is staring daggers at you, grinding her teeth. “She fucking KNOWS.” You think to yourself, still maintaining a depressive stature. They say their goodbyes, Rarity glaring at you one last time before turning and leaving. You still have tears in your eyes and slowly close the door. A huge grin comes over you and you can’t help but giggle a little.

A few hours later you go outside for a walk and see that everypony around is gloomy and depressed looking. Knowing that you caused so much pain, you try not to smile. Thinking to yourself “I took a life” with glee. Somewhere inside you accept that eventually, you’re GOING to do this again. It’s just too much fun. You see the mane 6 standing together and wave to them, when Pinkie Pie calls you over. You oblige and walk over. Rarity is still glaring at you but the others don’t seem to notice. “Hey, how’re you guys holding up?” you ask. They all say something along the lines of fine, but they just can’t believe it happened. Raritys’ eyes go wide at their response and she says quite loudly. “Oh well I can really believe it. Can’t you, BROSEPH. Yup, there’s no way in hell she doesn’t know. You respond with “No I can’t…I just met her yesterday but... it really hurts knowing I won’t be able to see her again.” You force out a tear. The other five look at Rarity with disgust and you with empathy, they hug you and say they’ll see you later. They do not say goodbye to Rarity. Rarity is turning red and about to explode with anger. You say “Why are you looking at me like that?” “YOU KNOW DAMN WELL WHY I’M LOOKING AT YOU LIKE THAT!” “What did I do, was it something at the party last night?” She stomps her hoof, grunts and tells you to go inside carousel boutique to talk.

Once inside she locks the door and closes the curtains. She sighs, and looks at you, you return her look with one of sadness. “I thought we were friends Rarity, why don’t you like me?” She stays silent for a moment and then stutters “...I-I-I’m so sorry, Broseph… I-I don’t know what got into me. You don’t deserve this treatment. I’m so pathetic!” She starts crying and you hold back the urge to laugh. SHE’S FALLING FOR IT! You pull her to you, hug her and tell her she’s not pathetic and it’s okay. She says “No, it’s not okay, you didn’t deserve to be treated like that.... But I can think of something that will help make it up to you…” She gives you a suggestive wink and licks her lips. You nod and she grabs your hand and takes you into the back room.

You sit down and she closes the door and locks it, turning around “I’ve been so cold to you, darling. I think you could use some warmth.” She pulls your pants down with her teeth and starts rubbing your dick with her hoof. You smile and think of how cruel what you’re about to do will be. She licks you from base to tip before taking just the head into her mouth and sliding her tongue around the sides. You start running your fingers through her mane as she takes your entire member into her mouth, moaning, causing vibrations that feel amazing. You haven’t had any “alone time” since your arrival in the Everfree forest and so a few moments later you warn her “Rarity… I’m going to-“ She puts a hoof to your lips and continues sucking, drinking down every drop and licking you clean.

She smiles up at you and you pull your pants up, smiling back. You pull her up into your lap and hold her, asking why she was so upset at you before. “Please don’t hate me for jumping to conclusions, Broseph, but…well, the night of the party, Lyra told me she was going to take your bag and leave a note so you two could have an excuse to hang out, she said she was sure you’d think it was cute. I…I guess I thought you might have had something to do with the fire. I’m so sorry darling.” “It’s okay Rarity, I understand why you would think that, you were looking for someone to blame for Lyras’ death… that’s why you were the only one glaring at me and the others were rude to you, right?” “yes, darling… she made me promise not to tell anypony else…”

You move out of the chair so she’s the only one sitting and smile at her. She looks at you quizzically, until you start chuckling. Her eyes go wide and tears form. “No…..no….you didn’t….please tell me you didn’t…please…” You tell her she should have trusted her gut. “no….you….you’re evil…..oh Celestia no….I can’t believe I just did that….you FUCKING MONSTER!” She’s screaming at you through tears and hitting herself in the head. “How could I be so stupid!... you won’t get away with this, you monster!” “I already have” you snicker. “Enjoy digesting my cum, bitch.” You leave to the sweet tune of her screams and sobs, while laughing wholeheartedly. Today was a good day.

The Funeral should be fun too.

You Can't Spell Funeral Without Fun?

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."