A True "Rarity"

In the past hours I've been here I have learned a great amount about the desert. The sun turns it into a sweltering cesspool of sand and cacti in the day, and the moon turns it into a frozen wasteland at night. The difference in night and day here is just as wide as the desert itself. I'm not sure if I should hate Celestia or Luna, (sure as fuck I'm not going to praise them) as I can't trust the past anymore. I no longer accept that I killed Spike. Everything that has occurred after the first ten minutes since when I entered this town, needs to proven. All of it is hearsay to me. I am not going back to my pre-Ponyville ways, that would be foalish. I am going above and beyond them now. I have altered my thought processes at my own will and consent, as well as my physical actions. But my magical actions are in a different setting. I've always been adept at magic (that's why being a spell checker was so simple and easy for me) but I never really studied or trained in some gifted unicorn school, like the famous magicians of my time. Perhaps I should explore this area more. After all, I have all the time in the world out here. Might as well gain something from that time.

I looked up at the blazing sun and the surrounding sea of sand. As hot as it was now just a few hours ago it was frigid and cold. Must have been more then a few hours ago then if it was cold only at night. I can't even keep track of time anymore can I?

No matter, don't get distracted.

I looked at my cutie mark, and saw the familiar image of a nonagram. It was a magick symbol of course, compared to the modern magical symbols of my time. I never really determined specifically what are of magic I was gifted in. The course of my life eventually brought me to spell making/editing but I know there is something more. And so do the princesses.

Can you hear me you fuckers?

I concentrated on the sun above me, and attempted to move it with my magic. It didn't budge. I suppose I wasn't that gifted after all. I turned my magical attention to the sand, and levitated a hoof full of it to examine. Seeing all the different grains, and being able to manipulate the thousands of them that were there, it was pathetic I couldn't move one single large object. Albeit their sizes are drastically different, its still the same principle. (I have no idea what that principle is.) What I can do to one I should be able to do to all. There shouldn't be a single thing I can't overcome with the help of magic. I'll make sure of that. I don't know when that will happen, or how for that matter, but it will happen. Have no qualms about that. This is my new goal. I don't understand why there is this new found surge of interest in magic and my past, but it must mean something.

With my new sense of purpose, I started my inner quest for knowledge. Peering into the depths of my mind, I tried to recall all the magical knowledge I had learned in the past (pre-Ponyville of course), and it all seemed to be useless. The spells I remembered were either all about pottery and house cleaning, or how to turn a dress to another color. Sure I knew how to start fires and such like I had at the prison during my escape; but the real gritty magic I knew of, the spells that would rip you to shreds, or cause you to decay within minutes......it was as if they were blocked from my mind. I knew they were there, I knew I had learned them, but I didn't know how to preform them. I need to learn how. How to be strong once more.....how to kill. What a delightful word. And just as the delight of that word and its actions sunk in, I saw it. Life.

It was a simple town, from what I could see atop the sand dune, containing a few wooden buildings, an exceptionally large clock tower that cast it's mighty shadow over the town, and set of train tracks accompanied by a train station; snaked through the town.

Maybe what you need is a new life?

No.

To start anew again?

No.

To forgive?

Never.

But why?

Why not.

Because forgiving is what's right.

Who determines right or wrong?

You can determine anything if you want to.

And I will.

As the conflicting thoughts and arguments flowed through my mind, I couldn't help but wonder how I contained it all. Looking back at the multiple buildings below me, I started to trot down the cliff like dune that I was perched on. As I proceeded further and further down, I started to see the outlines of the nearby pony-folk. A majority of them had distinctive facial hair, or hats and bandannas. Their fur colours matched the desert backdrop, with mixtures of browns and darker yellows. I suppose these ponies must have lived here for quite some time for their bodies to try and match their surroundings. As I continued my leisurely pace towards the town, I noticed a familiar looking pony with a hat, vest and the cutie mark of a single apple. It was "Braeburn". I can't be entirely sure if I even met him in the forest, but perhaps he will have some answers.

"Howdy there partner! Never seen you round these parts." He said. His hat didn't move as he spoke, and he didn't have any of the familiar mannerisms I saw before.

I struggled to find the proper words to say to the enthusiastic colt, but I was lost in the dark. Despite all I had done I did have no purpose or meaning for being here now. No family, friends, nothing. I ended up using some foalish excuse.

"Well I'm not from around here. I'm from....Phillydelphia." I said this with complete monotony in my voice, and I personally expected him to fall asleep on the spot.

"Yer from Philly?" He raised an eyebrow and I sensed some things had changed during my time away from civilization.

"Why yes. Is there something wrong with that?" I was starting to get a little pre-cautious about answering his question now. It was the way he said "Yer from Philly?" that worried me the most. To my surprise however, there was no sinking in my stomach or sweat rolling down my hooves. Just the feeling of the sand beneath my hooves.

"Nuthin partner, just uh, quite a long ways from here." He said with some nervousness. I suppose he was intimidated by my appearance. I looked down at my fur and noticed the cuts and scrapes were still there. In response Braeburn asked me if I was alright. I felt fine. Splendid, fucking king of the world grade a great.

"Oh. I suppose so. If you have any medical facilities I would be glad to check one out though." My half plot answer seemed reasonable both to myself, and to the colt before me. As he nodded his head he mentioned something about a local hospital that was in town. He then asked me if I had any family "round these parts" and I said no.

"Well then, guess I might as well show you round this place. Considering y'ain't got any family here." He said. I couldn't quite place his tone in a positive or negative category, as his voice slightly fluctuates whenever he speaks.

"Thank you." My overused tone of a lack of concern was ever-prevalent, particularly now.

As he started walking and I followed his lead we struck up a decent conversation. Even though I had been in solitary confinement for Celestia knows how long, I still had some adequate pony skills. I learned the location of the saloon which serves the best apple cider, and the best trees for picking apples.

"Lots of uses for apples Mr. Heatstroke." I do partially regret telling him my real name. "Apple cider, caramel apples, apple butter, apple pancakes, apple juice and mah favorite, apple pie!" Right after he said that, a chorus of yee haws was heard. I suppose the ponies in this town were quite into apples, hence the town's name of Appleloosa. Or as Braeburn calls it, Aaaaaappleloooooosaaaaa. So far all the ponies I've seen look like nice fellows, and Braeburn knows a decent majority of the population. I do plan on at least being acquaintances with him as I have no other pony to turn to.

"Well partner you sure seem like quite the charming fella." I had to fight to control my laughter. Me charming? Preposterous. He might as well call me a pacifist.

"I don't suppose you got a place to stay now do ya? On account yer a traveler and all." I had to make some excuse for coming all the way from Phillydelphia to this humble town. But he was right. I did have an excuse, but no place to stay.

"No......I don't." I hesitated as I said that, presumably my inhibition to divulge information about myself.

"Well then," He said with a deviant smile. "You can stay at mah place! Motel prices are through tha roof afterall."

Somepony's a bit too happy.

Maybe I should be a bit more suspicious. That little smirk that just perked up out of nowhere. I hadn't even confirmed my stay at the Braeburn Inn but he was acting as if I had checked in hours ago. But instead of skepticism......curiosity took its place and over-ruled the voice of reason.

"Well if that's fine with you. I do really appreciate all you have done for me." As that sentence slid out from my throat and into his ears the expression on his face changed yet again; from a smirk to a slightly seductive grin. What have I gotten myself into......

"Now, heh, you don't mind if I show ya around mah place first do ya? We'll go to the hospital right after ah' promise." Promise? What a damned lie.

Still, I played along. Like a blind foal walking to off a building, and falling into a furnace; all because mommy said to do it.

We started to approach the average looking building, (I'm not even sure if he lives here or not) and it appeared to be more and more ominous by the second. It was a tall windowless building, very different from the prison I had escaped. In fact, this place looked much worse then my cell. But what was a building like this doing in such a nice town? Shouldn't it be in the middle of the desert burning?

You foal.....you weren't even sure if that room you were "trapped" in was really a prison after all.

When the sudden epiphany hit me, I nearly stumbled onto the ground. Luckily, Braeburn managed to open the door of the towering structure, just in time for me to fly through and land on a rose red couch.

"Well, this is mah place....lots of memories here......" I was far too jumbled from my near fall to notice the sinister tone he had. I looked around the room, and it was littered with pictures ponies.

Perhaps they were his family or friends?

There wasn't much besides the couch, two tables, and a few more chairs. There was a stair case that led upstairs, (must be the other rooms) but what really filled up the room; and most of the house I imagine, was the photos. Sure it was just some candid shots of family and friends but as I surveyed the room I saw pictures of a different vibe. They were sensual snapshots of colts in arousing positions, and I had never seen any of them before in any magazine. Unfortunately, those raging fellows could be seen outside in the town streets. All the shades of brown that I had seen just minutes ago, matched the photographs that were framed up on the walls. No wonder Braeburn was so well liked.

"Well then. Yer not a dumb one I know that as a fact. I guess thats why ah picked you." He motioned to the colts in the photos.

"Do they look familyer? They should. I've rutted with everypony in those photos. Every single pony. And they all love me fer it." His acknowledgement of all those sexual acts brought him a sense of pleasure ironically enough.

I should have ran. I should have used my magic or something. But I didn't. I just watched him tie me down to a wooden, semen stained chair. As he started to remove his vest I looked at still open door; which was the only source of light in the room. After tossing the vest aside, I heard the striking of a match, and an orange glow slowly filled up the room. He took a candle from a nearby table, and lit it. The match was snuffed out, and the door was shut with a thud. The only living things I could see in the room were the candle, Braeburn and I. The wax was starting to roll of the tip of the candle, and into it's silver base. Braeburn then tipped the miniature platter, and a hot drop of wax landed on my right inner thigh. It burned at first, but turned into a warm sensation after a few moments. And as much as it pains me to say it.....it was quite an erotic sensation.

He placed the candle on the ground, and as my colt hood rose from in between my legs (I felt very embarrassed at my lack of control), he took it all into his mouth. I tried my best to pretend he was a mare instead of a colt. He eventually took off his hat (which helped a bit) and was working vigorously. His head was bobbing up and down and left and right, and I felt dizzy just looking at him.

.............

I felt his front hooves grope my undercarriage, and as they sifted up and down I nearly came. When I looked back down I saw his face, and his green eyes seemed to whisper not yet big guy. As he pulled his head off and had his flanks facing me, I could only wonder, what if it was Rarity doing this?

His abrupt landing on top of me almost made me shout, and I didn't even have time to try and enjoy the forced penetration. It didn't hurt one bit though, as I was fully lubricated. I heard a few pants from him but I blocked them out. Within seconds of those pants and wheezes I knew I was going to climax. Perhaps Braeburn was a mindreader, as he dismounted, and grabbed my colt hood with his front hooves. He opened his mouth wide and all it took was a slight jerk to get me to spray my seed into his mouth and on his face. It was finally over. He started to suck out the rest of my semen, and I nearly came again.

"Now partner, was that so bad?" As he licked his lips in glee, I nearly fainted. I was just raped. And no, I didn't enjoy it all.

Are you sure about that?

His face seems to paint a different story.

"Ya know, I think it's time we got ya to that hospital huh?" I could only nod my head in shame.

He untied me and I took another glance at the photos in the room. Maybe my picture will be up there someday.

As Braeburn opened up the door, the sun pierced my eyes once again. I was in a bit of a better mood, not from the acts i just participated in; but the feeling of getting out of that horrid chair. The hospital was just a few saloons and houses down, and the colts and mares outside smiled at me. It was as if they knew what I had just done. Like the rest of the buildings around, the hospital was comprised of wood, and looked fairly basic. The inside however was very different. It was nearly identical to the hospitals in Phillydelphia, with its smooth granite floors, freshly painted walls (they were a dreary gray unfortunately) and hotel quality stretchers and beds.

"Well, guess ya don't need me now. I'll be back at mah place if ya need to rest.........or if ya need anything else. See yah!" As his hooves clopped away I was glad he left.

"Somepony get me a chair!" The pink mare in front of me shouted to the rest of the hospital. I cringed as the thought of Braeburn's chair returned.

Looking at the cuts that littered my body, it was obvious why they called that chair. They probably thought I was too weak to walk. A coffee colored mare with a white cross as a cutie mark brought over a wheelchair, and coaxed me to sit down in it. I obliged and felt its somehow cold leather seat. I looked at the mare behind me, who now began pushing my chair with magic. The wheels became a delightful blue and I felt very foal like looking at them. It was calming and serene. I looked at the other rooms in the hospital, and they reminded me of the "prison" rooms I had seen earlier. They didn't have any decapitated ponies in them however, and I was glad for that.

The chair jerked to the left, and right before me was an empty room. It wasn't entirely empty, as it did have the generic hospital bed and table, but it felt like it was lacking something. The unicorn stopped using her magic on the wheels, and began to lift me onto the bed. The feeling of sheets was divine. They were smooth....silky......I could have fallen asleep right away. As I was engorging my senses in the sheets the mare left the room, and I was alone. I started to stare at the grey walls, occasionally spotting the face of a pony or a tree. Finding faces was boring now, and I searched around the room for something interesting. Nothing particular, just an object to pass the time. I didn't find any. Instead I gave up and closed my eyes. Let my thoughts take control........

Braeburn........Pinkie Pie........Celestia......Luna........Heatstroke.......

Rarity.............

Not yet big guy.

I woke with a startled look on my face, and turned to the windows at the end of the room. The sun was just setting (or rising) and it gave the desert an orange glow. I looked at my sheets, they weren't silky or soft, they were covered in blood. The cuts on my body now burned with the intensity of the sun itself. Just before I didn't feel a thing. And now....it hurt. I didn't cry, I just winced and cringed. I was unable to do that however, as deep, brown leather straps held me in place. As my body struggled to break free, my wounds pained me even more then before. I nearly blacked out. From what I could see, outside my room were three royal guards, along with two medical ponies. All five of them were discussing something. I can't read lips, but their facial expressions all displayed the same emotion; shock and awe. Perhaps they found that burning hunk of metal that I left. Ordinarily I would have simply executed them without a second thought, but I recalled the sad fact; I didn't have my supreme, murderous abilities anymore.

"Hey, he's awake."

"Is he restrained?"

"Yes."

"Buck, he's bleeding!"

All I heard was voices. My sight just vanished. It was quite sudden. It didn't fade away dramatically; it just cut out like a circumcision. But my other senses, they were instantly sharpened ten fold. I could hear everything in the room individually, and point out every smell. My sense of touch was now phenomenally high. It was like I could feel every molecule in the air and in the sheets.

"Should we use anesthesia?"

"No time! Scalpel!"

A scalpel? They were going to operate.

But why? You need stitches, not more open wounds.

Maybe its for my horn?

That makes more sense.

And I felt it. The cold blade made contact with my source of magic, and I felt a chill run through my body. But as that chill passed....I felt a force (I don't know how to describe it) shoot right back.

"Ahhh! AAAHHHHH!!!!!"

"Sweet Celestia! I need some gauze here!"

"What the fuck......."

"Don't just stand there you foal! Put some pressure on that!"

"Ughh.....ackk...."

I suppose one of them vomited. The smell of blood and stomach acid filled my nostrils.

Spirit of death

Hear my cry

Two are left

Two must die

By equinox night

All will cry

By equinox day

None shall die

When requi-eem come

All and six

Shall be one

Perficere hoc munus o titulus unum et concordia erit