My Little Anon: Another Story 1-12 (second abandoned sequel)

>So, here you are
>These blasted plains of anguish and sorrow
>Your anguish and sorrow
>Existence is like looking into a mirror at a reflection of your sins
>A sand-blasted expanse of red as far as the eye could see, featureless save for rolling hills and rock formations eroded by the test of time
>It was your punishment
>Your odyssey
>Your mistake
>This was Tartarus
>Feels like you have trekked across infinity and back again
>And you sometimes fear that you will never leave
>But that fear takes a secondary place in your heart
>For now, there is a force that overpowers that
>It was the same powerful drive that got you out of so many other jams
>You didn't know what to call it
>Blind faith?
>Foolishness?
>Hubris?
>But for what it's worth, you did learn a lesson
>If...
>No
>When you ever got home, you intended to tell Celestia all about it
>That no matter how far you fall,
>Even at the bottom of existence, infinite layers of pain and torment,
>There is always, no matter how microscopic,
>A spark of hope
>And as long as you keep that alive, there was a chance for the best possible outcome in all things
>That will make a good lesson, you think, to present to Celestia
>Even if it is one that has taken far too much by now for you to learn
>Maybe she will be proud of you
>Maybe you will be worth being proud of...
>If you ever see your Equestria again

>Tartarus warped and changed around you, always
>There was no map, no landmark, in which you could use to navigate
>Unlike the material world, you were far from being one of the 'big dogs'
>Who would you be kidding? Even in the prime materium, you weren't some hero
>You made mistakes
>You had flaws
>You weren't the sharpest knife in the drawer
>You weren't the strongest, or the fastest
>Or the toughest
>So, how did you accomplish the things you did?
>How do you intend to survive?
>You didn't know, on either count
>Step after step
>Trudge after trudge
>You displace the fine red sand
>An endless trail of imprints lay in your wake
>How long has it been?
>Too long
>You should have never come here in the first place
>But your self-righteous ass did
>You thought you could take it
>You thought you could find comfort in the knowledge that your friends would be better off this way
>But you couldn't
>And now you intended to fix it the only way you knew how
>Through pain
>And suffering
>And loneliness
>Three things that were constants in your life
>No, that wasn't true
>You needed to stop telling yourself that
>Celestia gave you a chance at happiness and you discarded it like an idiot
>They all gave you a chance at comfort, family, friendship, and love
>But you shot it down repeatedly
>You did it to yourself, and you were going to right it yourself
>You were stupid, arrogant, immature
>Horrible personality traits
>Ones that you hope to have improved upon
>Ones that you hope to tame before you show yourself to your friends again
>You want, more than anything, to walk back into Ponyville
>To present yourself to your friends; your loving, dear friends
>And be able to say “I am a better man than you remember”
>If you cannot do that,
>If you cannot manage to learn from your mistakes,
>Then there is no point to any of this
>And you might as well stay in Tartarus
>Your personal hell

>Your clothes are still the same ones you came to this realm with
>Fitted for a dog, not a human
>And probably not the most appropriate for this setting
>A Borsalino-style fedora
>A matching overcoat
>Button-up white undershirt
>Trousers
>You retained your boots, however. The dog mafia didn't wear dress shoes
>It was all you had to your name
>It was heavy and hot, but you felt more comfortable when you felt hidden
>Your beard didn't help the 'hot' situation
>The smell must have been horrible by now
>You needed a shower
>But there was no suitable water, here
>On queue, you pass a river upon whose banks you travel parallel
>But you don't dare drink from it, or wash in it
>It is a green matter of sludge like viscosity
>It bubbles
>Boils
>And reeks of pus
>Vomit flame spewed up from the surface at random intervals
>There was nothing natural about this
>There was no spring feeding this horrible air of disease and heat
>None, save for your own anguish
>It was self perpetuating
>It was sickness
>And you wish you could say that it was the most horrible thing you have ever seen
>Alien plant life sprouted spontaneously around you, brought to accelerated life by this stream of suffering
>Thick, black stalks upon which rest a bulb of sickly green enzyme sway in the winds, howling their maddening chorus
>It flowed down an array of fleshy petals, and stained the ground
>There, the nourishment afforded by your deepest depressions flooded the desert
>It was gradually warped, transfigured, from red rusty sands into a hostile bog that sucked at your feet as they plunged through the morass
>From the depths of it all, a figure slowly bubbles upward from the thick sludge and moss
>The tainted fluid coalesces, writhing inward on itself until it takes on the form of a man
>A man who watches you, covered in gray hairs
>As far as you can reason, it is an image of yourself thirty, maybe forty years from now
>Its lips open and it grins, showing diseased teeth which, even then, are falling from the gums
>As if pleased to see the younger visage of itself, it reaches a hand out to you as you pass
>But you leave it behind like the march of time will eventually leave you behind
>The figure begins to melt away into a decrepit skeleton, and then that vanishes into so much ash
>Tartarus loves to remind you of the impermanence of man
>Anything to break your spirit
>But it doesn't stop you
>You know that your surroundings aren't the worst part
>That is yet to come

>For with every breath you take,
>Every moment you exist in this realm,
>You feel the oozing miasma of the Tartarian atmosphere fill your body once again
>Just as before, it fills your volume
>And from there, worms its way into your physical being
>And then your soul
>Like a million barbed fish hooks, twisting and writhing through you,
>You clench your teeth and force yourself to bear it
>You hate this. It hurts, so much
>It is Tartarus gripping you, making sure that you will never leave it
>This torrent of torment is like an obsessive lover, one that you want only to abandon and leave behind
>But it won't let you
>Unseen chains of supernatural gravity coil around you
>If Tartarus had its way, you would fall to your knees
>You would submit to eternity
>And you would gradually dissolve, fusing with the infernal realm forever
>But you continued on, defiant towards the oppressive will of this twisted plane of existence
>You had a star hanging in the sky which you followed
>A single, white prick that pierced the heavens and gave you a direction even in the blazing heat of the day
>It was a small, microscopic, light of hope
>Others might call it blind faith
>Or foolishness
>Or even hubris
>But you did not care
>Let Tartarus know and understand this now:
>You are Anonymous
>And you will chase that hope, to wherever it would end up taking you


>Fatigue was no stranger to you
>Not at all
>More than once in your life, you have known its alluring pull
>And you have had to resist it more than once
>But here, there was a sense of urgency
>You dare not submit to the call for your physical need
>To do so would leave you vulnerable
>Open to whatever Tartarus had in store for you
>If it was so active while you were awake, just what was it going to do to you while you slept?
>It was depressing to think about
>But then, this whole world was depressing
>And as much as you hate to admit it, you were losing steam
>Becoming slower of mind and body
>The lack of water was beginning to effect you
>Your stomach felt like it was digesting itself
>And, every once in a while, you could swear that you were hallucinating
>You shouldn't be here
>Why, oh, WHY didn't you just leave that goddamn warehouse?
>Why in the buck didn't you just...
>Go with your friends,
>Avoid the Pinkie Party as per usual,
>And live happily ever after?
>Well
>Of course, it wouldn't have been that easy
>You remember the shovel in your hands
>How you just wanted to drive the blade of the spade into the throat of your enemies
>How you wanted to decorate the walls with their entrails
>You were never an artist
>But everyp0ny needed a hobby, right?
>Something to fill the void left by Celestia
>That's what you needed
>But you can't blame her for turning you into a psycho
>What was done was done. Your life was yours to live
>Your problems were yours to surmount
>And though your beloved friends helped you so much, you couldn't stand the thought of them being so inconvenienced
>You're an idiot
>You lied to the only people who loved you
>And then you gave up

>You emerge from the humid swamp back into a dry desert
>Well, not so much 'emerge,' as much as your surroundings spontaneously changed again
>A reflection of your mind, you suppose
>Nothing of consequence
>The putrid vegetation of mucus and fluids of pus drain away between grains of sand
>Leaving only a rusty desert with dark skies, as before
>Strange. Tartarus must be running out of ideas
>It almost felt like you were back in the deserts that took you to Appaloosa that one time
>That was a miserable experience as well
>You take a quick check to the sky
>There it is; your little lantern of hope
>Hanging amidst the blue
>Very well
>That is where you will go
>You trek across the sands
>It's uncomfortable, the sand sticking to your clothing
>But you -were- wading around in unmentionable stuff for a while, there
>By Celestia's holy name, you needed a shower
>Alas, she could not hear your plea
>And she would not deliver you
>Of course... maybe your faith is somewhat misplaced
>As you wander, you think back to when you first arrived
>The Boss still tightly gripped in your hands
>On the edge of a cliff looming over a winding expanse of hellatious plasma that licked up for miles
>You still remember the violent updraft from the heat; it lifted your coat from under you
>“Welcome to your new home, kid!”
>He said, you recall that clearly
>“And this time, blueberry ain't gonna help ya!”
>At that point, you kind of threw him off the cliff and into the river of flame
>What the fucker gets for shooting you off a goddamn cliff
>You were never very good at tact
>If you were, you might have asked him what he meant
>'Blueberry?' Was he talking about Luna?
>And how did she help you? You recall that you liked her
>When even Celestia thought of you only as a 'thing,' Luna was there to answer questions for you
>At risk to herself, no less
>But still
>It isn't like she was responsible for your survival to this point
>Well
>Maybe you'll ask her when you get back
>Or maybe it isn't your place

>You slow to a stop
>You shouldn't stop
>But you can't help it
>The desert spawns an obstacle for you
>The static form of a pony comes together, constructed of violent currents of arcane power drawn from the surrounding atmosphere
>It crackled and flashed until it solidifies into a more corporeal form
>A rather bothersome one, one that strikes you as genuinely unpleasant
>Its flesh runs like ink, dripping off of a dark and gaseous musculature that swirled beneath this liquid layer
>Only to be replaced by more of the thick syrup
>Its eyes were blank, lacking pupils or any direction
>Have you succumbed to the howling winds of madness already?
>Have you gone insane, your shattered mind having lost all grip on reality?
>Maybe.
>“Hello, there!”
>It spoke in a sickly gurgle, giggling like a psycho afterward
>You move to bypass it
>'It'
>It isn't any pony you know, whatever it is
>The visage moves to intercept you, it's smile growing larger and larger
>“You poor thing! Just how long have you been out here, all alone?”
>You remain silent, watching the large blank eyes nestled in the skull as it looked you up and down
>Part of the reason for your silence is because you don't even know
>The other part is obvious
>You have no reason to trust any thing conjured by Tartarus
>You move to pass it once more, but it steps in front of you and cants it's oily head
Move
>you demand in a monotone drawl
>“But Anonymous, you don't -need- to go anywhere! I'm here, now, and I will give you everything you want!”
>The horn jutting from the forehead glows with a shimmering light
>Suddenly the sandy ground buckles, and from it a series of tables rises around you
>“I only wish to be your friend. Just stay here for a while, and I will take good care of you”
>As the loose sand falls off the sides in streams of red, you see that each table houses a banquet
>Peaches and pies, beverages and booze, cakes and cremes
>“Come on... I have been studying you for so long, Anonymous. You have no secrets from me!”
>It emits a cackle
>“You don't want to waste away in this dreadful desert, do you? Just stop for a moment! We can enjoy this together! As friends!”
>“Forever!”
>Tartarus has made sure that you are starving by this point, and you were dangerously close to dying of dehydration
>But you are not fooled
>While it offers you lies, you have faith which offers hope
>You move to bypass it all
>“W..wait!”
>The creature calls, raising an inky blob of a hoof before darting before you once more
>You furrow your brow and curl your lip
>More displays rise from the sands
>The most glorious, plump apples you ever did see
>Bouncy, leafy green salads
>You hated salad
>Yuck
You suck at this
>It gasps, watching as you move along
>“Wait-wait-wait!”
>It cries, and darts in front of you yet again
>You narrow your eyes and cross your arms
>The ink blot leans in to you closely, with a sly expression across it's features
>“I know what you reeeeeally~ want!”
>This is a waste of your time
>It squints it's blank eyes, and the horn glows again
>Up from the desert floor comes a perfect, juicy, delectable platter of prime rib
>The aroma, one which you have not smelled in so long, instantly catches your attention and you lower your guard
>It was accompanied with all of your favorite fixings, marinated with your favorite seasonings
>Biscuits came with the meal so that you may use them to wipe up the juices and savor those as well
>And also a bowl of mashed potatoes
>The most fluffy, delicious cloud of heaven that you could imagine
>Your eyes turned to cartoony spirals
>Your will started to drain away
>Your tongue hung out from the corner of your lips
>The creature that provided all of this smiled, pleased with the result, and with a motion of its hoof came another plate of perfectly cooked filet mignon
>With a side of fresh french fries
>The sweetness of temptation did not end there
>There were baby back ribs, rib-eye steak, beef skewers, T-bones
>So long on a vegetarian diet, one that left you unsatisfied and drained
>One that you never got used to
>Hamboigas
>Oh, by Celestia's divinity! Pulled pork sandwiches!
>Roast beef sandwiches on flat bread
>Pork chops, lamb chops, ham and turkey
>All styles of fried chicken were sprouted
>In your hand appeared a knife, which you clenched
>In your other hand, a fork; which you clenched with equal strength
>The chance to, once again, taste the blood as it trickles down into your gullet while you chew and savor the juices of another creature was right there for you to take
>And the drinks – that was another story all together
>Fountains spilling over with bubbling, carbonated soda; your favorite brands of beer!
>Fine wines of both red and white variety
>You could feel the soothing mist of the fountains as they rose around you; gigantic Romanesque statues absolutely flowing with the blessed gift of alcohol
>Your mouth waters, your body producing saliva with what it had left
>The voice warps gradually, as does its shape, coloration, and texture
>What now stands before you is the spitting image of Celestia
>She bats her eyelashes at you
>“Stay with me, my little human! Abandon this silly little crusade.”
>“You are hurting. You are tired. Sorrow and bedlam dog your steps. This is no way to live.”
>“What sort of friends would make you endure half the things you have? They are so greedy... all I ask is that you stay with me.”
>“I offer you relief from all your suffering. I offer you everything you could possibly want.”
>“Will you accept my... friendship?”
>Celestia eagerly awaits your answer
>What was missing?
>You could live an eternity of torment trying to get back to your so-called friends, or you could have it all right now
>Why would you want to leave?
>You smile, weakly
>And that weak smile grows into a wide grin as you become more and more infatuated with the idea of just reaping these rewards
>You deserved this, after all
>After all the heart break of your friends abandoning you over a little accident
>After rescuing the Cutie Mark Crusaders from a life of servitude, after dealing with the ordeal that was Lyra
>And after foiling the plans of an infernal drug lord, sacrificing yourself for the betterment of the world that you grew to love despite it all
>Here, you don't need to work to change yourself
>They're all probably happier, anyway
>And all this glorious carnivore food!
>Why the fuck not?
>You can feel yourself dissolving, particle by particle
>Fusing with the infernal realm
>Embracing it, begging for its acceptance

>Just before the last of your willpower leaves you, however, your brain delivers a jolting reality check
>A twitching sliver of sanity that screamed so loud to be heard in your fractured psyche that it could not be ignored
>Your eyes return to normal, and your arms drop to your sides
>You drop the silverware, which sinks into the sand on contact
>The visage of Celestia takes a hoof back and gasps, raising one foreleg off the ground and widening its eyes
>“What's wrong?! Do you need more? I can make more!”
>You look around to the smorgasbord provided to you
>And, all at once, you feel angry
>Furious
>Outright livid that you even allowed yourself, for a second, to fall for this
>You furrowed your bros steeply and looked up into the eyes of your host
Eternal damnation is not my fetish!
>You assert, jabbing an accusing finger towards it
>'Celestia' begins to shudder, and she oozes back to the thick, syrup-like consistency that she held once before
>One by one, the tables around you burst into clouds of red vapor
>Conservative as you were, you didn't make a habit of living off of hoof-outs, anyway
>“But... b-but!”
>The form begins to melt down, bubbling into a rough approximation of Fluttershy
Move.
>You start forward once more, shoving the unstable equine out of your path
>Behind you, she looks at you with a fiery hatred before she smacks a hoof against the ground
>“I'll have you soon enough!”
>The entity called out
>“You'll not survive for much longer! And once you expire, I will rip your essence from your hollow corpse and feast on your impurities!”
>The voice was no longer gentle. Rather, it was as if the chorus of ten billion victims forced their way at once into your mind
>You pulled the front end of the fedora down between your thumb and index finger, shielding your eyes from the light as you continued on
>>“Just remember, human, that I offered you comfort!”
>The interloper's breaths grow heavy and desperate
>Tears well up in its false eyes
>She moves to follow you, but cries out in pain as her flesh dissolves, her muscles burst into red sand, and her bones melt away into calcium deposits on the desert floor
>You resume on your path, unhindered by anything short of your perpetual hunger, thirst, and unbridled agony of living
>You could swear that you felt an angry quake beneath your feet
>But however frustrated Tartarus became, it did not change one fact
>You had friends waiting for you
>Friends who always encouraged you to be the best you can be
>Friends who would never, in a million years, allow you to give up
>Tartarus was going to have to try harder than that
>You look up into the sky once more, find your light, and continue on your way to wherever it leads you


>Sleep deprivation should have done you in by now, frankly
>But long before that, your lack of moisture intake should have completely destroyed you
>You still had a while yet before the lack of food would have killed you, but it shouldn't have mattered
>This was really, really strange
>Step after step leaves a heavy imprint of a boot in the soft, fine sand
>But surrounded by howling winds and ashes, with nothing else appreciable in sight, you had time to think
>And you have come to the realization that, yes, you are physically suffering
>You have since hit a plateau of agony, it appears
>Not that you in any way enjoyed it
>But it was a break, you supposed
>The best you would ever get
>You held your fedora down over your head, tilting your view up to the sky
>The star that you were once following has since fallen from its place
>You pause your relentless advance, scanning the Tartarian skies with a swish of your head this way and that
>This was depressing, and you would be lying to yourself if you said that it didn't leave you feeling a little drained
>The substance of the surrounding air warps around you in a visible shimmer, and you can swear that you saw a familiar purple pony march tauntingly around you in a wide circle
>“The human body requires two quarts of water per day in order to maintain one hundred percent operating efficiency in most environments. Going by the dryness of the wind, the ambient temperature of forty three point eight eight degrees Celsius, and the gradual decrease in the pace of your march, your body will give out in a matter of hours. Your body will then decay, and bacteria will...”
>You have learned to ignore the presence of these hallucinations, as much as you wanted to believe that they were real
>...Oh well
>Not like you have long, anyway
>Imaginary Twilight was correct
>Hunger and dehydration will get you soon enough
>They probably should have a few miles back

>But, at the very least, the red sands of the desert have faded
>Your consistent defiance has yielded, finally, something different in terms of surroundings
>Not really better, but different
>The constant hum of wind whipping through your ear was replaced by a dead, eerie silence
>Actually,
>The silence itself was just as disturbing
>The sound of your feet grinding sand was replaced by the hard crack of glass
>Actually, that was all it was for as far as the eye could see
>Black, glossy, jagged volcanic glass
>Uneven, broken canyons and valleys of obsidian
>Where there might have been trees, spires of the same substance as the ground jutted upwards in slanted formations
>The land was truly dead, here
>Whatever this was, Celestia did not create it
>That was something you always wondered; what sort of mind does it take to put all this shit together?
>You imagine yourself in ground zero as the occasional ember of nuclear green matter drifts down before melting against the hard floor
>The sky, itself, emitted this hauntingly green glow that shimmered and moved like an aurora
>And that light reflected off the glossy black ground, completing the effect of sick hopelessness
>What was all this, really? You could not even guess as to what horrors might reside here
>Should you continue on, or should you turn back?
>You ponder it for a moment, looking over your shoulder
>The 'safety' of the desert was so far behind you that you could not see it
>So you turn your attention forward, grip your overcoat, and proceed
>Nothing left to do now, after all
>If you're going to die, then you choose to die moving

>You fill your thoughts with those of your friends to try and circumvent your growing paranoia
>First thing you were going to do was get to know Rarity better
>She seemed pretty cool; learned to stitch new angles and patterns just for you
>Always set aside time to take measurements for you and make sure your wardrobe was 'fabulous'
>You always just kind of gave her the bits for the trouble and left
>Other than 'hello' and 'take care,' you didn't have a lot of dialogue with her
>She deserved more than that
>You frowned to yourself
>She even came to see you at the hospital, for Celestia's sake
>You lift a hand and strike your forehead
>No depression. Keep spirits high
>Fluttershy. That was another one you would like to see more of
>She was cute
>A little creepy with her animal house
>But you liked her, even considering that incident in the shower
>To this day, she is the only pony to actually know what a human looks like below the belt
>You grumble to yourself
>Okay, okay. Enough of Fluttershy
>Applejack?
>Well
>Moving on
>Twilight Sparkle? Yeah, there was one you could think about
>She scolded the hell out of you
>Everything you did was wrong in her eyes
>In fact, she thought you were the biggest idiot in Equestria
>But... um
>Hey, she did cast that spell so that you could talk and understand pony tongue, as well as comprehend their written word
>That was something
>And, also, she always smiled when you were around
>Except when she didn't
>Which was whenever you did something stupid
>You furrow your brows and growled at yourself again, giving off a low, echoing thrum
>Okay, moving on
>Pinkie Pie
>She was annoying as sin
>She drove you up the goddamn wall with her constant cruel inquisition
>And her loud obnoxiousness
>But for some reason, you liked that about her
>There was a contradiction: Everything you hated about her is why you liked her
>Even that bat-screech of a laugh that she produced from her horse-lungs every other sentence
>You would definitely hang out with her some more
>You needed more laughter in your life
>Yeah, that's what you would call it
>Pinkie Therapy
>And then there was Rainbow Dash
>...So, what about Dash?
>Unfortunately, doubt was starting to fall over you concerning her
>The professions of 'love' did seem kind of hasty, out of the blue, and last minute
>You mean, you were in the process of being shot off a cliff
>Emotions were running high
>Did she really mean it?
>Did YOU really mean it?
>The idea of anything more than sweet words with a horse, even one as, er, well toned as Dashie...
>Gah, yuck
>You still remember Lyra's lips
>That was fucking horrible
>And then BonBon, and Applejack
>Oh, dear Lord
>And that was just kissing
>You bet that mane of hers felt fantastic
>You mean, maybe you could hug her, but that's about it
>Hardly constituting of a relationship
>Well, there you went, depressing yourself again
>C'mon, Anon
>You're supposed to be driving yourself forward, not backwards

>You half closed your eyes and barred your teeth
>Great
>You shot your own thoughts down, and now you were paranoid again
>However, you could hear the sound of rushing water nearby
>No, no. It wasn't possible
>Just Tartarus playing more of its infernal tricks on you
>But...
>You pause for a moment and cast a glance over in that direction
>A green, glowing flake drifts down off the ridge of your cap
>With no more light to follow, wouldn't the best idea be to seek out any source of water and follow it?
>Even if it wasn't real water, you mean
>A moment is taken to consider
>You cast inquisitorial looks to your surroundings in all directions
>Black glass, black glass, and more black glass
>Arches, pillars, and stalagmites twist from the ground at random intervals
>If nothing else, curiosity gets the better of you
>It's really against your better judgment, of course
>The nature of this blasted land that you have condemned yourself to is one of perpetual torment and disappointment
>But alas
>This was your world, for the time being

>After what seems like kilometers of travel, you finally come to the origin of the sound
>And you do not like what you see
>You look on with lifted brows, a mortified expression coming over your face
>The obsidian banks to make way for a black river of tar-like odor and a sickly green underglow
>You move closer, driven by your all-too-human eagerness to understand
>As you draw closer and closer, you can make out shapes along the surface
>Shapes which rise, act, and then sink into the mire as soon as they surfaced
>There was a tension in the river, you suppose
>A sticky quality
>You watch as creatures, covered in the foul soup, reach in vain for something to grip on to against the smooth obsidian siding only to be dragged back out
>If not by the winding current, then by other figures which materialize and drag them back into the mysterious depths under the surface
>Finally, you come to the edge of the near bank and look out over the water
>It is less of a river and more of a channel, you conclude
>Far too wide to swim
>Not that you would even if it wasn't
>You start to realize something, then
>These shapes and forms struggling against the surface scream profanities and blasphemies at the tops of their lungs
>Horses, minotaurs, griffins, and all sorts of other sentient life which you cannot pinpoint
>And they are fighting
>Brutally
>Not just punching and kicking, mind
>Tearing at one another with tooth and claw
>Shrieking their hate for each other and all things
>You watch, mesmerized by the display
>Just under the currents you can see the warped faces of who you assume are too weak to fight swept away by the current
>The creatures are without features, their bodies covered in the morass and being pulled back under by the surface tension before they could properly reveal themselves
>And the odor!
>Burning tar was never a pleasant scent
>Is that what this was? Tar?
>You look down to the edge of the bank to see that the liquid had a very thin viscosity
>It seemed like the harder they struggled, either against their prison or against one another, the tougher the liquid became
>This must be the punishment for people who were filled with anger, hate, and malice
>You were like that, not too long ago
>...The thought makes you cringe
>At least, until you check your other surroundings and notice that twisted, gnarled trees sparsely inhabit the banks of the river
>Wooden structures, having broken through the glass at their roots, bearing the suffering likenesses of the once living in their wooden frames
>You narrow your eyes and take a step towards one of these forlorn specimens, eying it suspiciously
>It is then
>Right then
>That you notice something
>A glorious, orange bulb hangs down from a vine on the tree
>Your eyes go wide
>Your mouth opens in disbelief
>There's another, and another
>You should not trust Tartarus. But Celestia, damnit, you need this

>Far from a romantic atmosphere
>The screams and wails of the damned
>Profanities and blasphemies filling your ears as the sounds of bones crunching and cartilage snapping punctuates the expressions of hatred
>You leap off your feet and clasp your hands greedily around one of the bulbs
>It does not release, and you are left suspended precariously over the ground
...Give
>You demand, hoisting yourself upwards only to let your weight drop once more, hoping that would jostle the fruit loose
>But the tree defies you
>You growl
>You throw your hips to the left, sending you into a spin
>And then to the right, hoping to twist the fruit off of its mounting
>It was way too early for this shit
Look, you
>You hiss, yanking down again and again on the stuck-fast apple
>Wasn't there a story about eating cursed fruit that you heard somewhere?
>Whatever, you're fucking hungry
I've been through too much crap to let a stupid...
>You hoist yourself upwards and pull your legs up, bracing your feet against the bottom of the branch
>You still had your skills from the playground back in grade school
TREE...
>You start trying to push against the branch, feeling the melon begin to loosen
...get the best of me!
>You hear a loud snap
>And a distinct scream from the tree itself
>You are overjoyed with the prospect of food at first
>THIS is your reward for never losing faith! Fucking food, at last!
>Lasts for about two seconds
>But gravity soon takes over, and you find yourself falling to the hard ground below the branches
>WHACK
>Fucking trees
>Fucking unconsciousness


>You awaken an undetermined amount of time later
>Light fades into your consciousness, and you are just slightly depressed
>That's right. You're in hell
>You were hoping that it was just a dream
>No such luck
>You groan and struggle to get up from your belly, the banks of the wicked river before you
>But there's something else
>A shiny, red, plump apple
>The thing you knocked yourself out for
>It sits innocently on the ground before you
>Passively waiting to be eaten
>Normally, you wouldn't even consider eating things that have been on the ground
>But normally you wouldn't even consider eating fruit growing from a tree fed by a cursed river in hell, either
>You smile weakly
>At least you had this for your efforts
>At the very least, you would not starve
>You reach your hand forward
>Your jittery, weak hand
>Your palm bumps it, and the apple rolls away
>You cringe
>It proceeds to bounce and hop down the bank and into the hateful mire, where it bubbles and dissolves into nothing
>You can still hear all the unpleasant of souls attempting to escape the river
>But none of that matters, now
>All that matters is that you are pissed
>More pissed than all the lost and all the damned trapped under that black surface put together
FFFFF...
>Your bottom lip tucks under your teeth
>After all that work, all that torment!

>A deep, throaty laugh generates from behind and over you
>You do not bother to look, only to relax yourself to your inevitable fate of starvation
>“Serves you right, ya jerk!”
>You grit your teeth and then turn to look over your shoulder
>No one is there
>You must be hallucinating again
>“Up here”
>It instructs
>You shift your attention to the tree
>“There ya go.”
>You roll over your shoulder onto your back, push yourself to a reclined sitting position, and kick away with your legs
>Your eyes go wide and your mouth opens, having never experienced a talking tree before
>“That really hurt, you know”
>It scolds
>The tree leans in towards you a few degrees, still rooted into its obsidian soil
Sorry?
>You say, holding out one hand both in question and in sincerity
>“All you had to do was ask. Didn't your mom teach you any manners?”
>You aren't about to get into that conversation with a damn tree
>So, you just repeat
Sorry.
>The tree straightens out, the ghostly face upon it never moving
>It was less of a 'face' and more just natural stains and markings which, when observed at the proper angle, resembled a warped visage
Could I have another?
>You ask
>It was worth a shot
>“What?”
I said, can I have another?
>You said all I needed to do was ask.
>The tree scoffs at you
>“No.”
>You frown
>Oh well, you're at rock bottom anyway
>Might as well go for broke
>You lean forward, put on the biggest smile you can, and bat your eyelashes
Pleeeease~?
>There's a momentary pause
>The tree rustles
>“Glrbarglr.... fine!”
>You hear a wet snap, and an apple falls straight into your lap
>Your eyes go wide, you smile more sincerely than you had in a while, and you take up the morsel in both hands
Thank you!
Oh, buck, thank you!

>You gorge yourself shamelessly
>The meat of the sweet, sweet apple filling the space between your jaws with its sugary goodness was a welcome sensation
>But you could hardly appreciate the flavor before you swallowed it and continued to take another bite
>Spittle and debris flew everywhere, but you didn't care
>The best part by far was that there was water in this fruit
>Maybe not enough, but dammit if you weren't going to take what you could get
>The tree watches through its omnidirectional vison
>“You must have been hungry”
>It concludes
>You hear several more wet snaps, and more apples fall to the hard ground
>You stop just long enough to smile at it
So, what's all this?
>You motion to the river with your head, and then to the obsidian plains, with your head
>“The final resting place for those whose lives were earned only by bringing pain to themselves and others”
>It responds in an almost sage-like fashion
>You go back to eating, listening as you do
>“Since before antiquity the souls of murderers, brutes, petty thugs and suiciders have found themselves imprisoned here beyond the reach of time, space, and the universe.”
>You raise a brow and look up from your gnawed apple core before casting it away, taking up another apple and starting to devour it as well
>“The fruit which grows on my branches is nourished to grow to a healthy shine by the wrathful vengeance wrung from the inhabitants of the river. It is their sin, their euphoric hatred for all things, which makes it so bitter sweet.”
>Your brows go flat over your eyes
>You look down at the red fruit, and then back up to the tree
>You slowly sneak another crunching bite
It's not going to kill me, is it?
>You take another bite, not caring either way at this point
>You were addicted
>“Oh, no. Tartarus wouldn't let its occupants go that easy.”
>That was a relief
>“Now, those who do die in Tartarus? They are dissolved into the plane and become a part of it for all eternity. You stop existing I guess, at that point.”
>Thankful for the information, you greedily finish off the apple down to the core and take up the third offering
So, if this is the place for the hateful, what was that desert that I went through?
>There's an awkward pause
>“...I'm a tree”
>It reminds you
>“I don't get around, much.”
Oh.
>You look down at the fruit, but lower it to your lap before looking back up at the tree with a cocked eyebrow
You're not a natural tree, then? What, are you a spirit?
>“This is my punishment, I guess.”
>You'll go ahead and leave this part out, if you and Fluttershy ever talk again
>Your eye squints and you sniff
You seem like a nice enough guy. What the heck are you doing down here?
>“Well, you see...”

>You watch and listen as the ancient tree takes you on a journey of the mind
>It uses a pallet of syllables to paint a picture for you to experience until your surroundings fade away and change
>You attribute it to more hallucinations and proceed to execute emergency plan A;
>Just fuckin' go with it
>“In life, I was a chef. People from all around came to feast upon my culinary labor”
>You devour the apple as you look on, seeing the image of a colt working in a high-class kitchen
>Assistants buzzed around him, finishing off the last portions of the simpler plates
>But the bulk work was his, always his
>“It was during the fledgling years of my career that one of my trusty sous chefs struck my fancy, and we fell in a deep love.”
>You weren't really in the mood for a love story
>Not with the wrathful spirits of the damned bubbling their hateful fury up and down stream in the river next to you
>But whatever. Will listen to life story for food.
>And you did sort of ask
>“After some time, we got married and I started my own restaurant.”
>“It became an instant hit with all the colts and mares of our fare town, but I was no business man. As time grew on, business started to wane, and we grew worried about our financial security”
>“And, with a child soon on its way, it became a point of even greater concern”
>You wonder why you've never heard of it in your time in Ponyville
>It probably just served salad or some variation of salad
>And you were sick of salad
>“In a desperate search for an answer for my failing business, I ventured to foreign lands to learn from their culinary masters. It was then that I came across other cultures and peoples that ate the flesh of other creatures.”
>You shift your lips, looking up from your meal as he said that
>The tone that he took, one of disgust, put you off. But far be it from you to interrupt
>“Of course, ponies – even at that time – had long looked down on meat as a food source, seeing it as barbaric and uncouth. However, I was a clever chef, and after many long nights of experimenting I invented a meat substitute made entirely of plant matter! With this invention, I was able to create the world's first veggie burger!”
>“It tasted exactly like the real thing, with none of the moral issues associated with killing another living thing and harvesting their bodies.”
Hm.
>You grunt in acknowledgment, ripping a bite from your apple. The juices dripped from your teth, caring little for cleanliness by now
>“I returned to Equestria, where my invention was an instant hit. Especially with guests.”
>“My restaurant became a landmark location for foreign visitors, and I was almost universally praised for my creation.”
>“But there were some that didn't appreciate my talent”
>“Some who thought that even faux meat was barbaric.”
>You look on into the imagery set before you, apathetically taking another bite from your apple
>You see pages from magazines and news papers fly around and past you
>Some with good reviews for the restaurant, some with a more... conservative view of the whole vegetarian and carnivore compromise
>They started to gradually become less and less about the restaurant, and more and more about the head chef himself
>The revelation of health hazards started cropping up, you passively notice
>Incompatibility with the pony digestive system
>“But the general populace still loved it”
>You watched as the lines outside the famous restaurant grow longer and longer still, often times extending down the street
>“So many, in fact, that I eventually couldn't keep producing substitute to satisfy all my customers.”
>“I had to start using... REAL meat, that was more readily available”
>You chew on a bit from your apple and gulp it down quickly
And you get sent to Tartarus for that? That's not...
>The image shifts to the troubled head chef putting what must have been beef through a grinder
>“I was worried for the well being of my wife, you understand”
>“And for my unborn child”
>You nod
Of course.
>“And for my business”
>You fall silent and continue to listen
>“It wasn't a permanent solution, I knew... but it was the easiest.”
>You watch the scene before you as the door to the restaurant slams open, and a line of fillies are marched in to the building, followed by the Chef's assistants
>“I lived in the city. There were no farm animals around, and no would sell their precious stock for this purpose, anyway.”
>“But there were always orphanages ready and willing to clear space.”
>You stop chewing and narrow your eyes, glaring outward over your meal
>“No one was any wiser!”
>The tree begins to twist and give a sick, low cackle through its bark
>Well, this came out of the goddamn blue
>You watch the story unfold as high class ponies are served burgers, just as before
>But you are a human. You recognize what they assumed was grease as undercooked blood
>The mush of food pocketed in your cheeks stays there for a moment as you glare into the scene with a churning stomach
>“But eventually, someone found out...”
>The shimmering imagery before you shifts and scatters, rearranging itself to a horrified wife looking upon her husband as he drives a butchers' cleaver into the spraying body of a still-living child
>You are fast losing your appetite
>“She was going to go to the police, to get me help she said”
>“...But I wasn't going to let that happen. I was in this far too deep for 'help.' And I wasn't going to let that bitch ruin a good thing.”
>“I guess I got just a LITTLE crazy”
>There was a sharp scream that made you jump
>The sound of a cleaver hacking through flesh, tendon, and bone
>And a dead wife, with a shadowy image of her husband consumed by his own success standing over her body as the life-juices drained on the floor of a restaurant kitchen after hours
>Her massacred corpse was split open by the rib cage, and amidst the laughter of sheer insanity you watch as the kitchen's mad scientist gives her twitching cadaver a brutal c-section
>In his hooves he glares with a maniacal stare at the child who never had a chance to live, and he carries it over to the grinder
>Okay, that's it. You shut your eyes
>“Funny thing”
>It continued
>“The next night, one of my biggest critics came to eat for a yearly review.”
>“I served him a pony burger and a side of filly fries...”
>“TEE HEE HEE~!! In his review, he said it was the best meal he ever had!!”
>You force an eye open and watch as the anonymous reviewer is served what you can only assume is a 'veggie burger' and 'fries' made with parts of the slain wife and unborn child
>You fight the urge to vomit
>You cannot spare the water
>But by Celestia, you want to
>It would make your stomach feel better
>“Well... one of my assistants eventually broke down, and word got out of what I was doing.”
>“The very next day, the Equestrian Food Services Committee took the case to Celestia, and all meat – real or artificial – was banned from menus across the kingdom.”
>You pause
Cool story, bro.
>You are silent for a moment
>Then you come to a realization, your eyes going wide
>You lower your fruity offering
>As the images fade, you find yourself before the tree once again
>The tree falls silent as well
So,
>You start, taking a moment to gather your wits
>“Hmm?”
>It asks
>You lift your brows and list your right hand, pointing an accusing finger
You're the reason I was never able to get a good burger in Ponyville?

>Just a few moments later
>Your foot bangs against the trunk of the gnarled mass, dislodging the tree further from its obsidian loam
>“Hey, buddy! What are you doin'?!”
>You don't answer
>Your eyes are bloodshot, fueled by a supernatural fury
>Likewise, your vengeance-filled body feels a hundred times stronger than it ever has
>You drive your weight on your left heel and slam your right foot into the body of the tree once more
>Dozens of apples fall from the branches onto the hard ground
:The roots are severed, cut against the jagged obsidian that was the ground
>If only Applejack or Macintosh could see you, now
>“Ow! Stop!”
>You don't answer
>You breathe steam through the grill of your grit teeth, save for the window where one was missing
>The wood creaks and whines, and the tree tilts towards the infernal river
>“Whoa, WHOA! Wait! Let's talk about this!”
>You weren't interested in talking
>One last kick dislodges the roots of the gnarled tree, sending it down to the glassy surface
>“AIEEEE!!”
>It screams as it slides down and down along the bank
>Nothing to grip, nothing to hold
>Until it vanishes under that black morass, floating along until a hundred hands from a hundred rage-filled spirits whose lust for blood transcends eternity drags it down
>You watch with the epitome of hatred at the whole event
>Okay
>After -that- one...
>No more killing


>If lady luck's influence extended to Tartarus, it was kind to you today
>Maybe, just maybe, Celestia was watching over you
>Or Luna, perhaps
>Or maybe you were just this goddamn good
>Whatever it was, you were thankful
>For the first time since you came to Tartarus, you were content to leave your head bare
>For your hat was busy
>Amazing how such simple things could be adopted for multiple uses
>It made quite the apple basket
>Kick down trees, receive sustenance
>Occasionally you felt bad about it
>You mean, shoving that tree down into the evil river and everything
>All it did in life was ritually sacrifice children, murder it's wife, feed the remains to unknowing patrons...
>And in the process, deny you a fucking hamburger when you arrived however many years later
>You know, on second thought?
>Fuck that tree
>You reached a hand into your apple basket and produced a plump, ruby-red treat before tearing a bite out of it
>You didn't particularly care about the juice splatter
>You weren't trying to impress anyone down here
>And as long as your good luck, from Celestia or whoever kept up,
>You would be back home in no time at all

>Rejuvenated by your successful harvesting, you walk along the banks of the vile river
>In the land of glass, which you have mentally noted to call it
>Slippery, black, shiny, the obsidian made travel difficult
>You have almost slipped and fallen many times over the uneven ground
>And you dare not get too close to the river, lest wrathful claws pull you down to an undoubtedly gruesome fate
>You really didn't feel like getting your ass kicked by water
>With your luck, the abyss would probably hold nothing less than an infinite volume of BonBons, waiting eagerly to thoroughly destroy you
>By Celestia, you missed them
>Even the ones who did nothing but vex you
>You almost yearned for the feeling of that hoof slamming against your eye
>A smile came to your face
>And then you frowned
I am a sad, lonely man
>You conclude, audibly
>Here you were, actively wishing that BonBon the Destroyer would emerge from nowhere and relieve you of your loneliness by kicking your ass
>You emit a low growl and rip another bite from your apple
>God, this was good
>Probably less water than you should be getting per day, but it was better than nothing
>Your joints felt lubricated
>Your flesh was healthier
>Your muscles more efficient
>Your mind clearer
>Frankly, you felt like you could fight your way out of any predicament that you could possibly get in
>Now that your body was relatively responsive and you could move without pain
>But, of course, that was a placebo you instilled on yourself
>Though you have left the desert, you still feel a supernatural gravity weighing you down
>A thousand hooks at the end of a thousand chains lancing through your soul
>Attached to a thousand anvils, sinking past the ground as they attempt to rip you from your course
>And carry you into deeper depths of misery than you already knew
>Well, fuck
>There goes the placebo of good luck
>You thrash another bite from your fruity snack

>The green sky quickly grows boring to you
>It shimmers and ripples as if it were liquid
>As if you were beneath the tides of fate
>How fucking fitting
>And the small, wispy flakes of green light which gently fall like the first snow of winter must be some sort of residue from that phenomena
>You take another look at your surroundings, trying to find something to appreciate
>Lots of black
>Broken terrain, obsidian spires knuckling up into tall, rounded, and twisted shapes
>Gnarly, to say the least
>Actually, to be honest, some of the spire tops bore visages resembling living things
>Yeah, actually
>Some were arranged like fingers to some colossal hand that lay beneath the obsidian ground
>Just what was this cursed terrain upon which you rode?
>How was it that trees, even those of damned souls, could grow in glass?
>Just how could any of this exist? How could any living thing thrive here?
>Crime dogs, and you were sure that there were more
>You conclude that you just aren't wise enough
>Or maybe you were just never meant to know
>This was no place for a man
>Human beings were not designed to survive, here
>But, perhaps, that also means that this realm was not designed to survive man
>The thought brings a confident, if not wicked, smile to your lips
>There it was, again
>Hope

>Your endless journey takes a pause
>You grind yourself to a stop, lifting a brow as you look on to the banks of the river
>Down stream, a few hundred yards, is a large wooden construct
>A vessel
>A Trireme
>Though, of course, you wouldn't know or care what kind of ship it was
>On each side were three banks from which jutted dozens and dozens of ores
>Wooden stalks, all arranged in a tangle
>This great vessel was beached, a powerful ram on its bow having crushed through the obsidian beach and creating an anchor for itself
>And near it were gathered hundreds of individuals
>Well, what the hell? You were down. You were game. Let's check this out

>You make good speed, picking up your pace a little and skipping the broken parts of the terrain
>Your boots were loyal and true; even on ground with little traction, they managed to keep your balance
>Your foot falls clap against the ground, and you use both hands to secure your apple basket
>With only a handful of the fruit left, you were careful to safeguard it
>Who knows when you would stumble across another food source?
>You slow your pace as you draw closer and closer
>You find yourself becoming just one figure amongst a crowd of equally alien things as yourself
>Bipedal adolescent dragons
>Minotaurs
>An ogrish figure dressed in a full suit of Lorica Segmentata, strangely enough
>You had no clue what the fuck he was
>A few griffons, you recognized
>Gangly creatures of incorporeal substance, wringing their gnarled hands as they stretched
>Actually, everyone seemed to be stretching
>The fact that you weren't earned the attention of...
>No fucking way
>Approaching you was a man
>No shit
>A MAN
>Your eyes popped wide open, and your brows drove high up into your forehead
>He wore a slick smile of perfect pearly whites
>A top hat was canted to one side on his head
>A black, iron-studded vest with a white, puffy shirt
>Then black the rest of the way down, all the way to his boots
>He carried the air of a pirate
>And a gypsy
>...and a goth
>And all about him was the caustic scent of alcohol
>Way, way too much alcohol
>Alcohol you wish you had some of
>“And what do we have, here? Another weary traveler of the Tartarian wastes?”
>He leans in to you, nudging you with his shoulder
>You aren't slow to answer
Yep.
>Your attention goes back to vessel which is beached
>“Well, my friend, you're in luck! Your worries are over! We have one last seat on the Ship of Salvation, and it has your name on it!”
>Your brows fall over your eyes and your lids half close
>Yeah, bullshit
>You glare at the nautical salesman
>Fucking snake, you can see, hear, and smell it
Orly
>You reply, making it no secret that you don't believe him
>“Yarly!”
>He responds
>“Friend, do you know where you are?”
>He asks, slithering behind you and laying his hands on your shoulders, clasping down with one finger at a time
>He gets disturbingly close, chest to your back
>Your face goes red
Uh...
>You cannot find words
>“Why, you are on the shores of the River, Styx!”
What?
>And they called YOU the stupid one
Sticks come from trees, not rivers.
>He falls still for a moment, his smile dropping into a frown and his eyes growing to the size of saucers
>His pupils vanish
>But his devious smile soon comes back once he realizes what he's dealing with
>“Right you are! Who would want to wander such a crazy world for all eternity?”
>You fall silent, listening as he whirls in front of you, throwing up a pair of jazz hands
>“Your ship has come in! Your torment is at an end! You have suffered, been battered and bruised! We all have!”
>He throws his hand over the crowd, and more than one of the grateful creatures waves at you with nervous smiles across their faces
>Clearly, they are souls that are searching for a way out just like you
>You still aren't convinced
>“This river is the gateway to Tartarus. It winds through this accursed land on a migration of melancholy. But all rivers have an end, and all rivers have a start!”
>“Allow me to introduce myself. I am Charon, the oarsman. Appointed by Celestia herself, it is my eternal duty to seek out the lost souls of those who do not belong in Tartarus – good folk who have atoned for their sins – and guide them back to the world of the living where they may start with a blank slate!”
>Your eyes widen
>“And you, my friend?”
>He says, throwing his hand between you both
>A poster poofs into existence, showered by sparkles of light
>Your face is upon it, with orders from Celestia herself penned at the bottom
>“You have two princesses who would like very much for you to return to their world...”
>The signature and royal seal all but confirm it in your mind
So, it's over?
>You ask
Is it finally over?
>Charon nods
>“Indeed it is, Anonymous!”
>He taps a finger against your chest
>“Come with us, and we will return you to your place and time”
>“Or... you can stay here, and enjoy the 'wonders' of this hellish wasteland forever!”
>The choice was easy to make
>The muscles around your nose tighten up, and you feel the first inklings of a tear squeeze from the ducts of your eyes
>It was over
>Finally,
>You could go home
>You could be with your friends
>You could know what it is to be happy again
>Never again would you do anything so stupid
>With this new lease on life, you were going to do everything right
>You were going to earn it


>“I got one! I got one! So, a few decades ago, I was passing through my home town...”
>You listen intently to the stories being spun by the individual rowers
>It was the only real entertainment down in the lower decks, but you were thankful all the same
>God, you loved these guys
>You loved all the stories
>You loved this ship
>You loved Charon
>You loved everything, right now
>Even your task
>You sat upon one of the stacked decks, manning one of the large oars
>It contributed a small fraction to the cutting speed of the vessel
>Which was, by all accounts you knew of, going pretty quick
>It dispelled your preconceived notion of large ships being slow and lumbering
>Even the resistance of the eternally combative souls below the surface of this black murk did little to impede the pace
>Like a sword, the ship sliced through the sticky sludge like no one's business
>It was only fair that Charon supplied the ship, and you would provide the muscle to drive the ship itself
>You all did
>Must have been a hundred beings, of various shapes, sizes, and consistencies
>There was certainly a feeling of comradery about this whole development
>Everyone was so nice
>Refreshing change
>Sick of things trying to kill you
>Sick of suffering, wallowing in endless torment and agony
>Sick of everything hurting
>From your mind, to your body, to your heart
>You were so happy to leave that shit behind
>And just row to the cadence of your new-found companions and their tales of loved ones left behind
>It brings to mind something from your past
>When you were in little human elementary school, the bus was always supposed to be a quiet place
>Never was, though
>As the yellow vehicle cut through the highways on field trips, or through the surface streets on day-to-day ferries,
>You and the other children were always a talkative bunch
>Much like here
>A vehicle, taking you all to a promised land, and no one could shut up
>A smile grows from cheek to cheek as you revel in the epiphany
>“Hey”
>A deep, dull voice sounds out from right next to you
>You look over to your bench-mate
>Generally you didn't want to get overly buddy-buddy with these people, since chances were you weren't going to see one another again
>But you couldn't help sharing some words with this one
>“It's our break.”
>You nod and sit up from your place, happy to give your legs a chance to stretch
>You head up to the top deck

>Vessel was kind of cramped
>The whole thing smelled of the sweat and toil of you and those around you, who were hoping for the exact same thing as you
>Salvation
>Quite the prize; made you and the others willing to do anything for it
>There was little consideration for comfort, but what could be expected?
>You do not suspect that there was an abundance of material in Tartarus for constructing a leisurely yacht
>Your legs, crying from inactivity, compel you to walk laps around the top deck
>The noises of the wooden ship creaking against the tides of infernal rage below you are kind of creepy, but you can live with it
>What bothered you more was the side to side, forward to back rocking of the ship as it went
>Swift though it was, it also felt quite fragile when pit against the torrent of centuries of frustration and unbridled fury that lie beneath the waves
>And in doing so, you pass Charon about a dozen times; and he watches you curiously as he mans the colossal rudder that steers the vessel
>You are about to pass him a thirteenth time, but his voice brings you to an abrupt stop
>“Anxious, aren't we?”
>He asks slyly
>You look over to him and cop a half smile
Yeah
>“Patience, my friend! You will soon have what you've earned. Your life has been nothing but pain, and you are to be rewarded justly.”
>You are silent for a moment
>You've done plenty of dumb things
>But this – coming to Tartarus in the first place – has to be the absolute worst
>When you get back to the over world, you are going to... do something. You don't know what, yet
>But you will do something to  show your appreciation to everyone
>“So, my friend, how has the Styx been treating you?”
...Fine, I guess. But sticks still come from trees, not riv-
>He is quick to cut you off, his tone exasperated
>“That's just the name of the river, Anonymous.”
Oh.
>You cross your arms over your chest
>“And it's 'Styx.' With a 'y' and an 'x'.”
>The muscles of your face contort as your nose scrunches up
Whoever named this river was pretty bad at spelling.
>Charon falls silent, glaring down at you with contempt and hatred for your ignorance
>You don't see it, however
>You are busy looking to the deck, pondering things with your imagination which Charon could only envy
Something's been eating me
>You say, looking to Charon with your hands thrust into your coat pockets
>They are large, large enough to house your remaining apples while your hat resumes its post on your head
>“Has it? Many of the creatures who inhabit Tartarus would, but you seem whole enough to me.”
>Charon giggles at his own joke
>You narrow your eyes
No. I mean, you. I thought I was the only human?
>Charon rolls his eyes and tosses his head back, idly shifting the giant rudder to the trireme
>“You must not have been dead for very long.”
I don't think I'm dead, though.
>“Oh, you are. You wouldn't be here if you weren't.”
>You fall silent. Not going to argue with someone who is saving you
>“How little the living know. Of worlds, of the cosmos! It's quite large, consisting of dimensions which you would never even be able to comprehend with your... special mind.”
>You can't hide the grimace that overtakes your features
>You prefer a straight shot, not this around-the-bush crap
>He tilts his head up and looks down on you from his navigation deck, satisfied with your reaction
>“Don't fret. You are not alone. Very few individuals would even accept the possibility of the truth of the matter.”
>“You, however... you were ripped from one world to inhabit another. As an experiment at first, and then as a welcomed citizen. And then you banish yourself to yet another world!”
>He tilts his head forward and pulls the rim of his hat over his eyes
>“Most of our kin? They see one world, and we are content with that much. We do not bother to see beyond it, for the only things we are concerned with are what we can immediately see and touch.”
>“But you and I? We have seen what lay beyond the universe that humanity knew. And you know what? We aren't the only ones.”
>Your brow shoots up to your forehead
Huh?
>Charon chortles
>“Do you really think that the possibilities of existence are so linear that there is only 'one' of every world? Not at all, friend. Tartarus is one of few realms which can claim such exclusiveness”
>He leans over the railing with one arm, shifting the rudder to make the ship meander past a small island in the channel
>“How high can you count?”
>You immediately put up both hands and start calculating with your fingers, your eyes drifting to the alien sky as you think
>“It isn't high enough. There are infinite Equestrias, in infinite continuums, and infinite possibilities for the infinite reflections of the friends that you knew.”
>You lower your hands, then, taking his explanation in
>“So, you think you're the only human to see Equestria in all of that mess? Don't be so arrogant. You aren't that unique.”
>He lifts a finger and twirls it in a circular pattern as he speaks, lowering his eyes to you while he smirks
>“Hundreds of thousands of humans and used-to-be-humans, Anonymous.”
>“Some are lovers,”
>The volume of air between you and he fluctuates, and you find yourself peering into a shimmering arcane vortex suspended in space
>Multidimensional footage plays of a human being laying with another world's Rarity in a peaceful, well deserved slumber
>Both having the widest smiles upon their faces, even in their sleep; something that both enchants you and grosses you out at the same time
>“...Some are fighters”
>The imagery shifts to a powerful, tall, hulking knight in armor with pauldrons that are many times too large driving a broken blade into the body of a fallen demon, screaming litanies of divine consequence against the creature
>“Some are players”
>You look upon the scene as it changes to an anon who is quite active, surrounded by – oh god – you cringe
>He was surrounded by your friends, all doing things which cause you to recoil and raise your hands to shield yourself from the profane acts taking place
Bluh!
>You could have lived without seeing what you just did
>“Some are bastards.”
>The whirlpool of reality spirals, showing you a robed magician conjuring undead minions which rise from the earth in a battle with a giant chimera
>The magician pulls its hood back and reveals that it, itself, is a skeleton with eyes that over flow with spectral flame as it cackles a maddening cacophony
>“Some of them are survivors”
>You watch as you see yet another human being, sneaking through woodlands and drawing back a hunting bow, narrowing his aim upon a small game creature. All the while trailed by a familiar Griffin that you, unfortunately, knew
>“Some are men of peace...”
>You are presented with a cassock-clad man, standing behind a pedestal while preaching a gospel which you cannot understand to pews and pews filled from end to end with well dressed equines, eager to listen to the word of their father
>“And some are men of war.”
>The pool of magical power throbs, and you find yourself looking upon the statue of a once-great general erected in the Canterlot gardens, with a familiar midnight blue Alicorn weeping at the base
>The window vanishes, dispelled with a wave of the hand of Charon
>“There are infinite possibilities in this universe. And you? You are just one of them. One reflection in a collective that must be octillions in number.”
Too long, did not listen.
>The supernatural helmsman narrows his eyes down at you, but this time you do see it
>Desperate, you retreat your head back between your shoulders and give a dumb, candid smile
>Mind races to try and recall what all you were just told
>You squint one eye and think for a moment
You said it was higher than I could count
>Charon chortled, and then abruptly stopped
>He peered at you suspiciously
>“...Can you really count that high?”
>You nod, somewhat enthusiastically
Ten to the forty eighth power? That's easy. What do you think I am? Dumb?
>You give a mighty guffaw, not believing that anyone could think so lowly of you that you wouldn't be able to count to at -least- the octodecillions
>Though, you admit to yourself, you don't know what comes after that
>He blinks, peering at you for a moment in disbelief
>“...What's two and two?”
Twenty two, duh.
>You both share a lingering awkward silence
>His mouth hangs open, glaring into your eyes to try and get an accurate appraisal of your mental faculties
Well, I better get back down to the third deck
>You lift your fedora with your thumb and wave at Charon before taking your leave
>Charon is left there, manning the rudder
>He blinks once more, and for a moment he wonders just what the fuck you even are


>It's hard work, of course
>You didn't think so in the beginning, but it's definitely getting there
>You sweat profusely
>Some have taken to complaining
>Not whining, mind
>Complaining
>Not just because the work was hard
>Everyone knew it would be. After all, we're all working to save our souls
>Literally
>But muscles were cramping
>You and your bench mate have developed a system
>You work together in close unison
>Reciting beats of three, together, to better time your efforts
>You dare say that you were one of the more efficient teams
>He was a nice guy, really
>An Ogrish creature named 'Shaft.'
>You laughed when you first heard the name, but he pointed out that Anonymous was a pretty silly name, too
>You both agreed, and got along pretty well
>He was definitely the brawn of your little duo
>Dressed in a suit of lorica segmentata, you had to assume he lead the life of a soldier
>In that case, it was not hard to imagine him doing something to wind up with this dire fate
>But whatever it was, you never asked
>And he likewise never asked you
>He was a respectful sort, and you similarly respected him for it
>Finally, after so many hours, your right arm gives a twang of pain
>You recoil and take your hands off the oar, gripping your shoulder and hissing through your teeth

>“Anonymous?”
>He asks
I'm fine. Just give me a second
>You were such a glass cannon, it was ridiculous
>You would do manual labor, but this repetition for hours and hours was just too much
>“Here”
>He says, reaching to his belt and unhooking a skin of water before handing it to you
>You eagerly take it in both hands
Oh, God, thank you.
>You uncork the skin and lift the muzzle to your lips, downing a huge gulp
>Water was something you missed
>Thank goodness Shaft was willing to share his wealth
>In exchange, your apples were his apples
>You two have become something like partners over this voyage
>He watches you, still working the oar himself
>You lower it from your lips and give a satisfied gasp
Ghuhh~!
>With one hand, you wipe your mouth
>You didn't care that he used the same skins
>It wasn't the grossest thing either of you had done
Thank you.
>You recork the skin and hand it back over
>“Pace yourself. If you need water, I have plenty.”
>You breathe heavily, putting your hands back on the handle before bracing your feet and taking back up your slack
Where in Tartarus did you get water, anyway?
>“Not all parts of Tartarus are hot. For days, I was lost on a glacier. I was sure to scavenge some of the ice for later.”
>You tilt your head towards him
Good man!
>“Where in Tartarus did you find apples?”
>You hesitate to answer for a moment, shifting your eyes away from your compatriot
Well...
>He leaned closer to you, interested
>His overlaping armor plates clattered with his movements
On the bank of the river I found a psycho tree that pissed me off.
So I kicked its ass.
And received apples.
>He looked at you for a moment, his brows shooting up into his forehead
>But then, he threw his head back and laughed a strong laugh
>“HAW HAW~! Good man!”
>You tilt your head forward, shift your eyes over to give him a sideways glance, and cop a half smile
>Something troubled you about this whole thing, however
It feels weird, doesn't it? I don't suspect that you are from the world I was from
>He tames his laughter, sniffing once
>“No. No, I doubt it.”
>Kind of funny how people from different times and places can be buds, right?
>He chuckles and slams his brawny shoulder into your side
>“Hah! Yeah, if we didn't die, we would have never met!”
>You flash him a smile before looking down into your lap, falling silent and working the oar
>Why were you such a sap?
>You didn't want to 'like' any of these people
>Oh well, still, compared to your other friends this guy wasn't worth getting upset about when you went to your respective worlds
>But you couldn't help but feel the tiniest twinge of regret
>“Falling out of sync, there”
>Your eyes shoot open
Oh, woops! Sorry. Okay, ready?
>“One, two, three!
One, two, three...

>A couple hours later, you are blessed with a break
>Everyone was, actually
>With no oar power, the trireme slowed to a gradual stop
>You were slightly irritated
>Still, though, you appreciated the break
>Everyone did, and every single one of your kindred spirits sat up on the main deck
>Some were lucky enough to get a spot by the masts to lean against
>No one quite knew what was going on, however
>Other than the fact that this 'break' was enforced by the ships' two armed sentries that patrolled the decks at all times
>And you weren't the only one who was irritated by the delay
>You had friends waiting for you, dammit
>And all these people had their own priorities and their own considerations
>You sat next to Shaft on the edge of the deck, leaning back against the guard rails
This sucks.
>You politely observe
>“Tell me about it”
>He agrees
Maybe we have a stowaway or something.
>“The whole point is this ship is to save lost souls. I doubt we'd stop over just one more.”
>You sit there, fuming
>He pats a brawny hand against your shoulder
>This was bullshit. Every second you spent here, in this blistering hell pit, was one less second you got to spend in the overworld with people who cared about you, and you likewise cared for
>But you and Shaft were the quieter people on the deck
>Before, it was complaining
>Here? It was getting pretty close to whining
>And you were kind of wanting to join them in their vocal protest
>Luckily, it didn't take too long before Charon showed himself, standing on the elevated deck where the helmsman steered the vessel
>All eyes rest on him, for obvious reasons
>“Okay, okay. I know a few of your are upset at the pause”
>He said, still wearing his omnipresent smirk
>Being a greasy goth gypsy pirate, you came to expect it by now
>“You said the last stop was our last!”
>One of the faces threw up its fist and shouted
>Your frustration seemed all the less relevant, since you apparently got on at the supposedly last stop
>“I know, I know!”
>Charon rebutted
>“But I figured you would all appreciate this particular location. You see, we are at the deepest part of the River, Styx. Wouldn't you all like to stay a while?”
>Your eyes pop open
>Danger! Danger, Anonymous!
>Maybe you were being cynical, but you put your hand on Shafts' shoulder
Get up...
>You say
>He gives you strange looks, but you stand yourself and start hoisting him with you
>Charon sees this, and leans over his own railing and watches
>He ignores the roaring protests that come up
>“Well, well. It looks like someone wants to spoil all our fun!”
>You make your way around the ship before you realize something
Shaft, where are the life rafts?
>“Don't know. Never seen any.”
>Your heart sinks
>Charon chortles to himself
>“My friends, you have all wandered the wastes of Tartarus, defiant in the face of tortures beyond mortal comprehension. But it is time for me to be honest with you all.”
>Finally, you find one strung up against the ship's prow
>It was a horrible place to place a life boat, but you suspected that there was a reason for that
>You start making your way over to it, carrying Shaft in tow
>“For you see, Tartarus is a place for the lowest of the low. Your families, friends, lords, and dieties have abandoned you for whatever reason. And the most common sin in these wastes?”
>“Lying.”
>There is sudden flash of light, and the trireme rocks hard to the right, and then rebounds to the left
>You and your comrade are instantly thrown against the guard rails on the sides of the Ship of Salvation
>There is much screaming as what must have been a dozen passengers find themselves flung overboard
>You had a hard time hearing it over the ear-piercing clap of thunder that came with the blast
>Low and behold, a huge hole is blown in the hull of the ship
>And as the black murk starts flooding in, music starts playing
>Where was it coming from?
>You did not know
>But good lord, whenever this happened, it was not good
>You could hear Charon speaking up, over the screaming and lamenting of passengers who were hysterically trying to save themselves from the growing river beneath them

>“...A gargantuan hole in the bow...”
>“Will the ocean to enter allow~!”
>“But more a sin, than letting it in, it's letting our good fortune out~!”
>Shaft looked at you with clenched teeth
>“You okay, Anonymous?!”
Yeah, I'm okay. Where's the life boat?
>“I think it's still there!”
>You both scramble to your feet and run to the prow, looking over the edge to find the rope which once held it in place burnt
God dammit!
>You slam your fist against the wooden construction with a feeble thump
>“Hey, there it is!”
>He slaps your back and points a brawny finger to the life raft, which drifts in one piece on the surface of the water below
>Charon keeps going, meandering amidst the chaos that has become his deck
>“The nest to the storm did succumb, while the crow his his fear in the rum~!”
>As he spoke, another bolt of white-hot plasma came down from the swirling green sky and struck the primary mast, causing it to instantly snap
>The crowsman was hurled screaming into the waiting water where he was devoured into his eternal fate
>“And the mast, it broke! And threw out the bloke! Well, now, he's surely my chum~!”
>God, who the fuck was playing the music that was filling your ears?!
>This happened a few times in Ponyville, but it was always less, well, lethal
>“Think we can make it?”
>Shaft asked
No. No way, we're too high. Too risky.
>He grunts and looks up to the falling mast
>“Oh, shit!”
What?
>You look back to it, seeing it collapsing on the ship itself
Oh, dear...

>A second later, the vessel cracks in half under the weight of the heavy limber, sticking its brow and its stern straight up into the air
>The horrid sound of so much wood splintering and bursting under the strain of it all almost blocked out the infernal music
>So many people, good people, were catapulted straight off and into the hungry abyss below
>Their screams cut short by the damnation that awaited them
>And you, too
>Luckily, Shaft was quick enough to grab hold of a line of rigging, and then grip your hand at the best possible second
>You hung, helplessly, by his arm as your section of the ship slowly sank into the boiling stew of eternal hate below
Shit!
>You hiss
>You can't keep yourself from using words that you wouldn't normally, as you look down into the flailing torrent of spirits that calls to you
>And Charon never fucking stopped
>“'Cause this ship's going down, all on account of the weather!”
>Yeah, weather. Bullshit
>“Though we'll drown, there's no need to frown! 'Cause we're all going together~!”
>You weren't going with him
>And neither was Shaft
>You ignore the ramblings and the mind-warping tunes that project themselves into your eardrum, looking up to your compatriot
>“Come on!”
>He beckons
>Immediately, you start climbing up his arm, to his shoulder, and then to the rigging
>At that point, you start climbing up higher on your own, looking down to Shaft
Alright, we should be able to get up to the... what the hell are you doing?!
>He gazes down at the lifeboat, which has drifted between the two halves of the sinking vessel and is almost directly under you
>“I think I can get it”
>You can't argue. His plan was better than yours, at this point
>It was hard to focus on everyone else's plight
>You were way too focused on surviving

>You climb up to the prow, which is dominated by the heavy ram which stuck up into the air
>When you finally manage to look down, you see that the raging fluid is closer than you would like it to be
>But you also see the armored soldier, Shaft, releast the rigging and fall straight down
>You wince and clench your teeth, almost being unable to watch
>But he lands in the life boat, and immediately mans the two oars
>You breathe a sigh of relief, until you realize that he is making absolutely no headway
>The downward pull of the sinking trireme is far too great for the raft to escape
>Your heart sinks for a second time
>And, if that wasn't enough, you hear Charon's song once more
>“...I was sinking down into the brine, when a curious sight caught my eye~”
>“Seaman shaft had found him a raft and was making a speedy goodbye~!”
>Oh god, no
>You can do nothing but clench the ram of the prow, watching helplessly
>“At the risk of sounding absurd, I have always been good as my word~!”
>Charon appears in a whirl of spell power near you, drifting in the air as if he were standing on solid ground
>Suddenly, a harpoon explodes into existence in his hand
No you don't!
>You roar, and reach an arm towards your 'savior,' trying to pull him off target
>Alas, he is too far away
>“So a fish gig I lanced into his eye...”
>He draws it back over his shoulder and hurls it at high velocity, striking the poor sod in the face
>Shaft tumbled, obviously in extreme mortal pain, before he, also, vanishes under the waves
>“And knocked his ass overboard!”
What the hell is wrong with you?!
>You answer, clenching a fist and taking a swing, even if it was futile
>“And I won't say 'Oh, woe is me!' as you disappear into the sea...”
>Charon floats over to you, giving you a sinister grin, confident in his superiority and position
>You have no words for how furious you are
>“'Cause you've all been so good to me!”
>“So we're all going together~!”
>He concludes, and the music stops playing

>So, there you were
>A quick look around confirms that you were the last one alive, besides Charon
>You were only yards above the surface by now
>You take delaying measures and climb further up the ram until you get to the top
>It buys you a few seconds, at most
>Charon's body begins to melt into a black, inky sludge
>Your eyes widen and you draw in a surprised gasp
>The shape of the body, and even the pigment of the flesh, changes and warps until it takes on the >spitting image of Celestia; her large wings flapping to keep her afloat
>“Got'cha!”
>Words escape you
>“You mad?”
You're goddamn right I'm mad!
>You hiss a hateful warnig
>Celestia's form melts away as well, revealing a familiar shape of a skeletal pony, with flesh of running tar and empty white eyes
>It sprouts a pair of sloppy wings, beating them to stay afloat
>“Told you I'd get you, Anonymous.”
>You cringe
>So he did
Who the hell are you...?
>You ask, wanting to at least know who killed you before you sink down to your eternal fate
>“Interesting choice of last words”
>It answered in its bubbling, gurgling tongue
>“I am none other than Tartarus. Well... it's avatar, anyway”
>You narrow your eyes, and mouth a 'what?' in confusion
>“You will dissolve in the black sulkiness where you will find no joy in man, universe, or your god; and I will have my feast.”
>“Can't say it hasn't been fun, Anonymous.”
>“But don't feel too bad! When you entered my domain, you were already degrading.”
What do you mean? I resisted your attempts to tempt me!
>The phantom shook its head
>“Tartarus does not only devour people, Anonymous. I also siphon memories of that person.”
>Your lip quivers in frustration, your brows furrowing to a pronounced 'v' over your eyes
>“Your, heh, 'friends'... have long forgotten that you even existed, by now.”
>The ghostly figure snickers evilly at you, its warped voice echoing through your shattered mind as it watches you in your final throes
>The surface of the Styx grips your ankles
>Angry hands and talons rise from it, gripping your pant legs and pulling you down more
>You attempt to struggle, but it is for naught
>This isn't something you can fight just by punching it
>Which sucks
>Before long, you are in up to your hips
>And soon, your chest knows the heated boil of eternal torment
>You look straight up to the sky, where your light of hope used to be
>But was no longer
>A hoof erupts from the waves and loops around your shoulders, drawing you down to your head
>And soon, all you see is a falling blackness
>The last of you to sink is your arm, which slowly shrinks as your hand, and then your fingers, eventually disappear into the infernal soup


>This part of Tartarus was oddly serene
>Endless expanses of dark volcanic glass, spiraling upwards into knobby towers
>There was no pattern, no regularity
>No sound
>No breeze
>The air was stagnant
>The ground shimmered, reflecting the sickly green sky which throbbed and pulsed as if it were liquid beneath a leaky faucet
>Glowing green residue drifted from the sky, meeting the ground after eons of free fall only to melt into a glistening powder that sizzles away in a puff of steam
>The ground, by virtue of its reflective properties and smoothness, behaved like a fun house mirror
>And thanks to the sky, it always looked as if it was moving
>The gnarled, malnourished willows growing on the banks of the Styx were eternally silent
>A single shed leaf drifted upon the surface of the channel before it, too, was dragged under the currents
>The silence was maddening
>The land was dead
>Life could not thrive, here, in any appreciable capacity
>So it was ever since the scuttling of the fraudulent vessel
>For the most part
>That was days ago
>But every once in a while, the silence is broken
>The surface of the Styx exploded, and a long arm topped by a clawed hand erupted from the murk of millenia-old violence
>It came down on the bank of the channel, slapping against the obsidian shore before another hand tore its way out of the sticky tar
>Like elastic, the surface tension of the river wrapped itself tightly and attempted to pull against the efforts of the would-be escapee
>Soon enough, a face emerged, stretching the oppressive film
>And with its attempts came a deep gasp for air
>Like a fish slithering out of the primordial soup, it crawls and claws its way up the bank
>But it only ever manages to get about as far as its hips before it starts to succumb to the gravity of its situation
>Like a sentient blob of matter, the body of liquid devoured and slurped him back down the bank
>And try as he might, the sad little soul had nothing to grip, nothing to give any traction
>For the ground, here, was nothing more than smooth glass
>It screams in defiance as fate has its way
>Trying desperately to tear its hands back and forth along the bank
>But, to hasten its hopeless situation, a ghastly claw reaches from the surface and latches on to its coat
>And then another appendage lashes out, attaching itself to the poor soul's shoulder
>And as it is dragged back into the abyss, one final hand lashes out and grasps his head, pulling it back >further and further
>You are Anonymous
>You gasp for one more breath
>And then you succumb, slipping back into the darkness you try so hard to escape from

>So, here you are
>Yet again
>This isn't the first time you've been here
>Falling down yet another hole
>Well, rather, you were falling down into the depths of a thick liquid
>You kept your eyes shut
>You had to
>This wasn't water
>You knew this taste all too well
>Congealed blood
>Centuries of spilled blood, from all races across all continuums, mixed into a disgusting, diseased soup for the enjoyment of Tartarus
>It had the consistency of a thin jelly
>And it burned
>Oh, lord, it burned
>Especially your gums
>Your flesh tingled with a pain unlike any you have ever felt before
>At the mercy of the current, thrashing about and tumbling in an uncontrolled spiral, you gradually sank
>You could feel that much
>In the anarchy of souls struggling for freedom, the only direction to go was up
>And in order to go up, you had to struggle and knock the others out of your way
>Hence the eternal gauntlet
>And you weren't getting anywhere by letting yourself be walked all over by the thousands and thousands of spiritual bodies that vied for dominance
>You were getting your ass kicked
>You didn't like that
>You were running short on breath already
>Despite the corrosive pain of your being being absorbed into the ethereal dimensions of Tartarus,
>Despite the helplessness of your struggle,
>Despite the absence of hope for your salvation,
>It was not in your nature to surrender
>Time to get moving
>Time to try again

>Soon enough, you find yourself smacking the tense surface film once more
>And despite all the claws, hands, hooves, tentacles, and gravitational forces driving you down, you manage to resist
>Your footing is firm, standing over a mountain of souls that lay submissive below you
>But you aren't alone
>As you struggle to break through the surface tension, there are at least a dozen other creatures who, like you, are beaten by merciless waves intent on driving you back down into the abyss
>But the waves aren't the only thing that try to overpower you
>A soul, of some sort of creature you cannot identify, climbs up via your coat and eventually latches on to your shoulders
>You were so close
>Your fingers were ready to break through the flexible prison
>But the enraged spectre pulls you around by your shoulder into a fist that buries itself right into your nose
>With your eyes shut, you cannot even identify the blows being thrown against you
>And you can't fight back
>You recoil from the strike, struggling to maintain your position
>And your breath
>Which fails
>Your lungs contract, and your eyes fly open in horror as the foreign liquid floods in to your chest
You watch through the red-tinted haze as you drift down from your hard-fought position of superiority
>There is no air
>Are you going to die?
>The pain is intense, and causes you to writhe and flip as you tumble lower and lower into the abyss
>Being filled with so much dense fluid makes you fall all the faster
>As you descend, the spirits of those who have been here for far longer than you rocket upwards past you
>You've never drowned before
>Is it supposed to take this long?
>Your hands wring your own neck, desperately trying to stop the flow of blood jelly into your body
>But your body gasps
>You can't control it
>Stop doing that, body
>It doesn't listen to you
>Head over heels, heels over head, you tumble further and further
>That makes it worse
>And the growing blackness worries you
>The water was already dark, but all light is fading
>Eventually, you can't even see the light of the struggling spirits around you
>Or above you
>Or below you
>Why aren't you dead, yet?
>You think back
>'Tartarus doesn't let people go that easy'
>That's what the tree told you
>What was this, a sick game?
>Did Tartarus want to make its victims suffer as much as possible before it took them?
>Well, it was working, whatever the plan was
>Your lungs felt like they were going to burst
>Ejecting the foreign fluid through your mouth, just to suck in the same backwash
>The sensitive membrane of your eyes stung just as bad
>This sucks
>It was way too early for this shit
>You refused to believe that you were done
>You -weren't- done, yet
>You still wanted to see your friends again
>Wanted to hear their voices once more
>Wanted to be scolded, annoyed, humbled, appreciated, hated, laughed at, laughed with, and loved
>You wanted to exist
>But it looks like that wasn't in the cards

>You can't get used to this pain
>Your body was not constructed for this
>Breathing anything but air was a no-no
>And a growing paralysis overtook your body
>You try to fight it, arching your back to prove that you still had control
>Your stomach protests, and your mouth erupts in a stream of backwash and stomach acid, complete >with undigested hell-apples
>Finally, after what seems like forever, your body seems to hit bottom
>You land on your shoulder
>But you fall to your back
>Your legs drift down, the weight of the river itself pressing you down into a watery grave
>You try to fight your way back up, but the stillnes of your body indicates that you have lost all control
>Do you need to be conscious for this?
>The pain of slowly corroding, molecule by molecule, gives you a new understanding of misery
>The discomfort of being forced to breath thick fluid, and choking on it, gives you a new appreciation for what rape -really- is
>The frustration of having a body that will not listen to your commands forces you to accept your weakness and futility
>'Just kill me'
>You thought
>'I don't want to be alive for this'
>At least your mind still listened to you
>However long that was going to last
>'I'm done'
>'I give up'
>The ethereal chains that lash on to your soul and coil around you jingle, as if mocking you, bringing about new volumes of pain
>To which you cannot even physically react
>You can't even comfort yourself by screaming
>This is the worst possible thing
>And you have no one to blame for it but yourself
>But you could say one thing
>Celestia had one hell of a penitentiary


>Time was meaningless in Tartarus
>You have learned to stop asking questions like 'how long has it been'
>You are beyond the reach of time itself
>Proximity as well is a meaningless context in your position
>You just wish that this process was faster
>Your spiritual decay, that is
>You don't want to suffer any more
>And even your mind is no longer your own
>You can feel it
>It started a few moments ago, after what seemed like forever
>It seems that Tartarus wasn't even content to let you contemplate in peace
>There was a less-than-subtle, unseen force in your mind
>Molesting your thoughts, arranging the shattered remains, analyzing what makes you tick
>It felt a lot like...
>That was impossible
>If she knew you were here, she would have saved you
>Probably
>Maybe
>Who were you kidding?
>Probably not worth the bother
>More and more you were starting to realize that, perhaps, this whole 'friendship' thing was one-sided
>You were working so hard, but what proof did you have that they even gave it a second thought?
>After all, you did sort of bring them nothing but trouble
>Maybe this was where you belonged
>Well, where you belonged after Celestia's mind rape
>You may not have had any real friends or close living family in your old world, but at least you had a place
>Comparing and contrasting that with your current situation, you can't help but do anything but curse her name

>Fucking Celestia
>What has she ever done for you?
>That stuck-up, holier-than-thou, hoity-toity bitch
>Best thing you remember about her was when your body was used to punch her ass out
>You just wish you were at the helm
>Wait, what the hell were you thinking?
>If you could move, you would slap yourself
>But the fact remains that you can feel your mind being fucked with
>No one has ever done that before other than Celestia
>As far as you know, she was the only one who could
>But as long as you were thinking about it...
>Celestia -was- a tramp
>And then there were the others. All they ever did was turn on you every time you had a problem
>Or try to rape you
>Twilight Sparkle... never stopped trying to tell you how to live your fucking life
>Everything you did was 'wrong, wrong, wrong' to her oh-so-perfect and flawless hide
>Pinkie Pie, that asperger-riddled fucking nutcase never left you alone
>She's probably the one who drove you insane enough to come here in the first place
>But then there was Dash. That show-boating, cocky little wench
>Trying to seduce you with that pony body of hers! Like you were that easy.
>Fluttershy only ever saw you as one of her fuckin' pets. You saw threw it that time she asked you to live with her
>And Applejack? You didn't even need to consider why you hated Applejack
>And Rarity
>...Rarity
>Hm.
>Well...
>Fuck her shit, too
>They ruined your life
>Probably proud of it, too
>Fuck that
>You were going to get out of this, and you were going to go back to Ponyville and kick a few asses
>Where there was once self-pity, there was righteous zeal
>Where there was once a sense of lingering defeat, there was defiance
>Where there was once sorrow, there was now hate

>Your right arm was your strongest
>It was your most faithful, most dependable appendage
>Oh, how many people you have sent to the ground with it!
>It made sense that it would be the first to respond to your orders
>Your left followed suit, and you started to take control of yourself once more
>The spectral chains which hooked around and through your body clenched, the weight of the fluid above you bore down upon you at an ever increasing pressure
>But you did not care
>You shrugged it off
>Nothing was going to stop you
>You furrowed your brows steeply
>Your cheeks puffed, and you beat yourself in the chest
>Hard to gain momentum for a good shot while you're under such sludge
>Again, and again
>You eventually summon the strength to give yourself a good, hard knock
>Your mouth flies open with a cough, and a storm of bubbles erupts from your throat
>Stomach acid joins it, of course, left over debris from your throat
>With your lungs emptied, you feel lighter
>You still aren't floating, however
>Just buoyant enough to fight through this
>Very well
>If Tartarus wants to play hardball, you're more than willing to play
>A rush of adrenaline serves as sufficient pain killer
>Just what you needed right now
>Jelly sloshed around your body as you started the long journey back up, ignoring the whine of overworked muscles and tendons
>You are Anonymous
>And you are going to survive

>Finally, after what seems like hours of struggling, your hand emerges from the water at a shallow bank
>Just as before, your arm slaps down against the smooth glass, and you find yourself clawing desperately
>Anything for traction
>The elastic surface tension does everything it can to hold you back
>And, just as before, a dozen hands, hooves, claws, gnarled appendages, and tentacles reach to grasp you
>Your shoulders, your hips, your legs, your torso; all are grappled and used against you
>You persist
>Nothing to hold on to
>But you look back to your captors, wresting your left leg free and kicking one in the face hard enough to drive it away
>You hiss through your teeth with contempt and hatred for these vile things
>Not only because they are trying to impede your progress
>But because they are disgusting
>Horrible, wretched, nasty, and non-human
>Sub-human
>Just like those goddamn ponies
>If you didn't have some equines to wreck, you might just dig the prospect of staying here to wreck these monstrosities for all eternity
>But circumstances being what they are, you are driven to resist their beckons, their spattering taunts, and their incessant pulling
>You rocket your hand forward, driving your fingers against the unyielding surface of the obsidian
>Finally, your efforts are rewarded when fingers rupture the surface tension and break through
>The living liquid of the Styx audibly whines and cries, objecting to this development
>You feel the cold chill of the air against your wet body
>And you can do nothing but smile
>Doesn't last long, though, as you feel a painful twang in your body
>A sparkling mist leaves your body, channeling through your fingers, and drifting over the bank
>You wonder just what the fuck is going on, when you feel something else
>...What were you mad at, again?
>The strength and purpose that had once filled you rapidly deteriorated, and you fell back further and further into the body of slop
>Eyes once filled with bloodshot, psychotic rage were now filled with endless horror as you looked back and realized the gravity of your situation
>You clung to the smooth glass as hard as you could, but it was all for not
>You were swiftly yanked off of your holding, being submerged back into the icky porridge of millennia old coagulated blood
>However, just before your hand vanishes for the last time, you felt something come down upon it and pin you against the ground
>With your head submerged, you cannot see what is going on
>Your body becomes the medium of a tug-o-war as a weightless force grasps you by the wrist and attempts to hoist you out of your predicament
>You didn't know what the fuck
>Whatever took interest in you, however, was clearly strong
>Maybe too strong
>Because your arm felt like it was going to dislocate
>That would really, really suck
>And it would be about your luck
>Without your arm, you'd be stuck
>Fuck

>SNAP
>There is a powerful yank
>One side of this battle for your soul gave out, but you can't comprehend what's happening
>You are suddenly cold
>Very, very cold
>You tumble, and you smack into something
>Oh, God, you can't see
>You think you were catapulted out of the river, though
>So that's good
>But you keep rolling
>Tumbling
>And whatever it was that you hit is massive
>And is tumbling with you
>About a second is spent wondering why, oh why, in the hell you were filled with such hatred only to forget what it was all about as soon as you broke through the surface
>But then you focused on the more immediate issue, which was the thing that pulled you out
>With your luck, it's probably some monster that only saved you so it can eat you
>Finally you slap against the cold, hard ground on your back, your knees recoiling into your chest
>Your eyes shoot open, and you rock forward to sit up
>But before you can, two black hooves come down on your shoulders and pin you right back to the ground
>“You're perfect!”
>You find yourself face to face with something
>You don't know what it is, yet
>But your prediction may not have been too far off


>This was crap
>First, you're dying of thirst
>Then you're surrounded by so much muck and sludge that you don't even want to think about water
>And now you're thirsty again
>You desperately try to wet your dry lips with your tongue
>But it does little to curtail your suffering
>The strange nuclear liquid sky looks good, right about now
>Oh well
>If Tartarus didn't let you drown, maybe it wouldn't let you starve or dehydrate, either
>Still felt all sorts of uncomfortable, though
>That, and your new found company sucks
>Refuses to tell you her name
>Not talkative at all
>Won't let you take a short breather
>And you get the inkling suspicion that she doesn't like you
>You can't imagine why

Hey
>You say
>She was marching ahead of you, her head hanging low
>She ignores you
Hey
>You try again
Darkie Hooves
>She comes to a quick stop and quakes in frustration where she stands
>You hear a low, mature groan
>“...I spoke too soon”
What's that, Darkie Hooves?
>She whips her head up and finally looks back over her shoulder at you, her wings flaring straight outward
>“Why do you insist on calling me that?!”
>You cross your arms over your chest, canting your head innocently at her
Because you won't tell me your real name
>She turns to face you, her hooves beating against the glass with deep thrums
>“I told you, human. My name is of no importance to you.”
>You are silent for a moment
>You shift your eyes past her and into the endless expanse before you two
So... I'm going through the desert with a horse with no name?
>She narrows your eyes, not sure where you're going with this
>“...uh?”
It sure feels good to be out of the rain.
>She gives an exasperated sigh
>“What are you even talking about?”
In the desert, you can remember your name.
And until you do, I think I'll just call you Darkie Hooves
>“I hate you”
>She finally said
But you said I was perfect!
>“That was before you opened your mouth.”
>You frown and slouch, your arms falling from your chest
>She smiles, satisfied with your misery before she turns and gets moving again

>Several minutes later, you decide to probe for more information
Hey
>She ignores you
Hey, Darkie Hooves
>No answer
Thanks for getting me out of that river
>To this, she finally responds
>“I would have left you there if I would have known that my next torment would be listening to you.”
Hey, now, that isn't very nice.
>She throws her head back and gives a soft chortle; the first time you've ever heard her laugh
>Her mature voice is soothing to the ears
>Even when she was clearly upset, she sounded kind of
>Well
>Sexy
>Not that you would even dream of anything
>“Do you even know what I am, human?”
>She asks, putting a hoof to her chest
Sure I do
>Her eyes pop open and she looks back at you
>“You do?”
>Clearly she is shocked, not expecting it
Yeah. I know two others just like you.
You're a Pegacorn.
>She comes to a stop and gazes deeply into your eyes with a scolding glare
...Or maybe a Unisus!
>She smiles sweetly at you
>“Very good! And I know what you are!”
>This has you interested
Oh, yeah?
>“An imbecile!”
>You frown and thrust your hands into your pockets once more
Are you frustrated?
>She is quick to snap back
>“Are you really this stupid?”
No.
>She squints one eye and turns her head at you
You just won't talk to me, otherwise.
>She stands silent for a moment
>Her aurora mane wisping past her head in unpredictable patterns, even in the stagnant air
>You could also see the muscles under her eye spasming
>You are the one to break the ice after this momentary awkwardness
So... think we could take a break? My legs are killing me.
>“Not until morning. Then we will rest”
>She says, returning to her course and walking away
>You, however, stay put
>When she notices the lack of foot falls behind her, she pauses for a moment and looks back at you
>Her facial expression betrays her slight annoyance
>“Didn't you hear me?”
I've been marching for days without stopping. If you want to keep going, that's fine
>Your tone switches to something more serious, now
But I'm taking a break before I collapse
>Your companion grits her teeth and growls before lifting a hoof to her face
>“You are so difficult...”
>She turns around and trots back over to you, giving you an evil glare
>“Alright. If you aren't going to come with me of your own free will, then I'll just have to make you”
Oh yeah? And how are you going to do that?
>You are curious to find out a few answers
>“You'll see, when I take over your mind!”
>She stamps a hoof on the ground and laughs an evil, wicked laugh which you could swear brought a flash of lightning and a clap of thunder with it
>She concentrates, causing her exaggerated horn to shimmer and glow
>You extend your right hand, brace your fingers against one another, and hold them right between her eyes
>SNAP
>She shakes her head and rears back, crossing her eyes on your fingers
>The spell sputters and fails
>“Wha...what was that?!”
>You've fought more than enough unicorns
>You smirk at her, probably more arrogantly than you should have
>“Ugh!”
>She hisses, and slams her hooves apart for balance as she conjures up the spell once more
>You raise your right hand to her face and brace your fingers against one another again
>SNAP
>Once more, her concentration is broken and her spell fails
>“Stop that!”
Hard to use your pegacorn-unisus sorcery when you can't concentrate, isn't it?
>Her lips pull into a wide grimace as she glares at you and growls
>Once more, she goes for the same exact spell
>You roll your eyes and scoff, extending your hand to her face once more
>This time, however, she abandons her spell of her own violation
>Opting, instead, to open her mouth wide and slam her jaws closed on your wrist
>CHOMP
>Your brows shoot up to your forehead
>Your lips sink into a frown
Yeeeee...
AH-HOW~!
>You  try to pull your hand from her mouth, but she refuses to let go
>You can hear a muffled laugh from behind her teth as she glares at you through her nocternal eyes
Give me my hand back!
>You shout
>Frankly, it seems only to fuel her to tighten her grip
Pleee-he-hease~!
>Finally, she spits it out
>You are left grasping your wrist, shutting your eyes and dancing in place in a vain attempt to try and ignore the pain
WHY?!
>You ask
Why would you even do that?!
>There is no answer
>By the time you pry your eyes open and look, her horn is doing that glowy shit again
Oh that's just chea-
>She combusts into a sparkling purple cloud and whips around your body before finally sinking in to your forehead

>Your pupils drift apart in a way that they aren't supposed to
Oh, shit, Darkie! What are you doing?!
>You hear her voice, but it echoes in your mind rather than being picked up by your auditory senses
>It's an alien sensation to say the least, one which prompts you to grasp the sides of your head
>“Just making myself comfortable.”
Uh, no. Get out of my head!
>“Hmmm...”
>You hear her consider your proposition with mock sincerity
>“No.”
>You thrash your head left to right, doing everything you can think of to 'toss' her out
>Of course, it doesn't work
>But dammit if you weren't going to try
There's not enough room in there for you!
>“Ooooh~ yes there is.”
>“I guess it's true that humans only use ten per-cent of their brains!”
>You stop and take a minute to think
That doesn't even make sense! What kind of idiot would believe that?
And anyway, how do you even know I'm a human?
>“This isn't the first time I've been in your mind. I know what makes you tic”
>“Although, frankly, I don't see how you tell one another apart. You all look the same to me.”
DARKIE!
>You cry, thrusting your hands into your hips
That is the most racist thing I've ever heard!
>She doesn't respond; instead going about her sinister intentions in the depths of your psyche
>You pause and think her words, er, uh, thoughts over
>You blink, lowering your hands to your sides
So, wait...
>You start
You're the one who was messing with my head when I was at the bottom of the channel?
>“Mmmhmm~”
And you're the one that sent me into a murderous rage aimed at people who I love and adore?
>“You just needed the right motivation.”
>Your brows furrow and your lips go flat
Well that wasn't very nice.
>You hear an evil laugh that echoes through your mind, causing you to wince and cringe as it does
>“Ask me if I care.”
>There's an awkward pause
Do... you ca
>“No.”
>You can mentally feel a rustling, a rummaging of your memories and a tingling in your head
>There is a shock of pain that jolts through your body
Ow! What the hell are you doing?!
>There is no answer
>You feel more mind fuckery, and it makes you twitch uncomfortably
>You spasm uncontrollably
>You decide that you have had enough
Alright, Darkie Hooves. Here's the deal:
You get out of my head, or I'll do something drastic.
>You hear a sarcastic 'pfffft'
>“Like what, human?”
>You lift your right hand and try to clench your fist
>Unfortunately, you cringe as you try. The wrist wound is preventing you from forming a proper fist
>Okay. No problem. You'll just do it with your left
>You ball your left hand into a fist, shut your eyes, and drive your knuckles into your own face
D'huh!
>You stagger back
>It hurt
>But it didn't achieve the desired effect
>“Hah! What was that?”
>She asks, content in her position of power over you
>“I know what you're trying to do. I can see into your thoughts. I also know your right hand is where all the power is. Your stupid enough to do it, but you can't knock yourself unconscious with your left hand.”
>You give off a hateful growl
>It would seem that she holds all the cards
>Except, you look back to when you first woke up in this world
>You smile, wickedly
>“...What are you doing?”
>You thought it was all a dream
>One that you couldn't wake up from
>So you went to the nearest tree...
>“You wouldn't.”
>Oh, yes you would
>You walked over to the nearest obsidian outcropping, a gnarled tower that wound up from the ground
>You extended your hands around it and braced yourself
>“Stop! STOP!”
>You draw your head back, shut your eyes, and throw it forward into the hard surface
>The pain doesn't last long as you crumple to the ground
>Dreamless sleep takes you once again
>But this time, at least it's on your own terms


>Through early morning fog you view
>Visions of things that are due
>The pain which is withheld for you
>You realize and you construe...
>That you're still in hell
>FUCK
>Fuck
>God dammit
>Why do you get your hopes up like that?
>You forced yourself up onto your elbows and then brought one hand to your forehead
>You crease your eyes open and look up
>It can never be easy. Not when it comes to anything you want
>And you needed to stop waking up like this
>Splitting
>Headache
>Well, anyway, a quick check around you confirms a few things
>Your surroundings are different
>This concerns you
>The ground is still hard and smooth
>You knock against it with the knuckles of your left hand, and are answered with the 'tink' of glass
>It's obsidian, just as before
>But you couldn't see very far in any direction
>Just shadows
>And then the pain in your hand comes back
>You hiss, bite your tongue, and then curse before you grin and bear it
>If a horse biting you in the hand was the worst thing that ever happened to you, you'd be happy
>Frustrated the hell out of you, though
>But hey, that's A-okay
>Because as of late, you've been pretty lucky
>You escaped from the Styx
>You had a traveling companion
>Albeit one that you kind of wanted to get away from as soon as possible
>And hey, you also found those apples
>For being stuck in hell, you were doing good for yourself


>Before long, you could hear the sound of shoed hooves clopping towards you
>Two headlights light up above you – a pair of eyes – before their owner brings them down to your level
>“You alright?”
>The 'woman' asked
>It was Darkie Hooves
>Or, at least, that's what you knew her as
>You lifted a hand to shield your eyes before you gave her a beaming glare
>She knew the answer to that, if she knew as much about you as she boasted
>But she waits for an answer
>You draw it out as long as possible before you're forced to answer, if only to end the awkwardness for both of you
Yeah,
>You start, groaning uncontrollably from the pain that shunts through and around your brain case
Just give me a minute
>She lifts her head away from yours, and you see her horn glow
>Not this shit again
>You raise your left hand as high as you can and prepare to snap your fingers in her face
>Sadly, as you attempt, your fingers fumble
>Again
>And again
>Fuck
>Your right hand is loyal and capable. Your left hand is useless
>A purple aurora whips around your hand and forces your fingers to pry apart
>She glares down at you before putting a hoof to your chest, which ends up pinning you against the ground
>“Your antics have caused us enough delays”
>She warns
>You struggle to regain control of your hand
>But, alas, the grip is strong and you are admittedly weak at the moment
>Not that you were ever able to really resist unicorn telepathy, or whatever it was
>The light of the spell envelops your whole body, and you find yourself weightlessly levitated off the ground
>This was always humiliating
>As you slowly drifted into an uncontrolled tumble
>Eventually you touched down on a rocky corner
>You melt into a perfect half-laying position with a stalagmite, or something, supporting you
>It wasn't comfortable, but at least you were sitting up
>The field vanished from around you, and her eyes fell to a close
>Leaving you in complete darkness
>Well, that wasn't accurate
>Her position was marked by a nebula that wafted about on nonexistent currents
>You weren't going to thank her
>“You aren't as talkative as before.”
>She observes, and you detect a hint of a scoff in her tone
>You take a moment to nurture your headache before you give her your answer
Usually not
>To be completely honest, you were disturbed by her silence before
>You thought you could get her to open up by channeling Pinkie Pie, but that didn't work out so well
>Best leave it to the masters, you guess
>You exhumed a snort through your nostrils. You still had way too many questions
>“Don't tell me you're afraid of the dark...”
>She chuckles quietly in her deep voice
>It drives you up the goddamn wall
>To be honest? Completely honest?
>You were in Tartarus. There was every reason to be scared of the dark
>But, being the tough guy,
Nn...No!!
>Your defensive reflex just earns another laugh at your expense
>“You're such a foal.”
>You cross your arms and  lower your brows
>You want so bad to argue with her, but you remember a lesson from your past life
>Don't feed the trolls
>“While you were out the morning came, so we will be resting here for now.”
>She spoke matter of factly, and you could hear her body come down to the floor near you before she exhumed a yawn that echoed through the shadows
And where is 'here?'
>She was quick to respond
>“Luckily for us there was a cave near by. I would thank you to think before you act in the future.”
>You emit a low growl
>She's the one who made you do it!
>Well, didn't make you, but you don't intend to share what is left of your imagination and memory
>Oh well. You didn't feel like arguing
>But you did want to try and get a few answers
Why can't we travel by day?
>You asked
>Not like you weren't tired, but still
>“Because I can only maintain my powers in shadow, and I doubt you want me powerless when we run into trouble.”
>You pause for a moment, straining your mind to try and figure something out
>But you couldn't
>So you'd ask
And I don't just ditch you because...?
>You see a single eye open, flooding the cave with a beam of light that centers on you
>A feline pupil focuses upon your body, expanding and then shrinking as it adjusts to the light
>“Because I didn't leave you.”
>You curl your lips into a defeated frown
>Well, she had you pegged
>Then again, she had sloppy seconds with your mind
>She knew way more about you than you did her
>Time to approach this another way
Why did you drag me from the river in the first place?
>The search light of an eye slowly drifted closed
>“You ask too many questions.”
>You don't relent
You've had three chances to leave me, and three times you didn't. What's the deal?
>You can hear a low growl emanate from her throat
>“I take it back. You are exactly as talkative as before.”
>You sit up, supporting yourself with your hands on the cold ground behind you
Alright, alright. Just one more question, then.
>You can hear her groan with annoyance, her mane stretching out in a porcupine-like pattern
>You wait for an answer before you continue
>A silence hangs in the air for a moment before she finally gives a hefty sigh
>“If I must...”
>You smile at your victory
>However minor it was
Where -am- I following you to?
>Both of her eyes pry open, and you squint as two beams of moonlight settle upon you once more
>She takes a moment to consider your question, never bothering to actually lift her head off of the cold ground
>“You want to escape Tartarus, correct?”
>You nod
>Of course you fuckin' did
>“I do, too.”
>You stare into her eyes, just as she glares at yours, for what felt like minutes at a time
>You still had so many more questions for her
>But you could sense that she was tired, frustrated, and wanted to just get some sleep
>You could respect that, and in fact felt a sense of obligation to leave her alone for now
>She was sort of your, you know, savior
>And you did kind of promise
>You finally nod at her
>“Good. Now, good day.”
>She turns away from you and shuts her eyes

>You watch as she sleeps
>Like a creepy stalker
>You're channeling Lyra
>God dammit
>But, really, there was something nice about the mass of stuff that made up her mane
>It was random, always moving
>Like watching a mass of plasma, or fire, licking at the oxygen hungrily
>You should really get some sleep
>You're hurting, you're exhausted
>But something keeps you from resigning yourself to sleep
>Fear?
>That was probably part of it
>Who knew what was skittering around in the blackness in a world like this?
>You really, really hope Darkie Hooves made sure this winging cavern was safe
>With your luck, there was probably a giant purple worm or something in here that would eat you
>You ran your fingers through your beard
>You needed to lop this whole thing off
>And you needed a bath
>Unfortunately, Tartarus wasn't the most hospitable of places and certainly did not afford those kind of luxuries
>You ponder, actually, heading outside
>It's day, the ground is reflective
>Maybe you can find a shard of obsidian and use it as a razor
>Why are you even worried about it?
>Not like you're here to impress anyone
>Well, anyway, you can't find your way out of this tunnel
>That was probably the point
>You look to the throbbing cloud of Darkie's mane, cringing at her
>She didn't want you to leave, and she made sure that you couldn't
>Fuck
>She was clever
>'Because I didn't leave you'
>Bullshit
>Well,
>Time for sleep
>You bundle yourself up in your coat, allow your eyes to drift closed, and drop your guard
>Perhaps there would be safety in numbers

>The next evening, you are lead out of the cave by Darkie Hooves
>You refrain from speaking, and she does the same
>You didn't get a lot of sleep
>Woke up in a cold sweat
>You felt every bit as wet as you did when you just escaped the Styx
>You were pissed
>Your head throbbed, your bones ached, your very marrow screamed at you
>And then there was that ever-present torture of Tartarus' hold on your spirit
>It was like a million fucking pissed off cats grabbing hold of your body with their filthy kitty-claws
>So to say you weren't in the mood is an understatement
>She wasn't either
>That was by default
>So you were going to go ahead and make both parties happy
>Without saying a word, she took off at a marching pace
>Well, what you suspect is a marching pace for a pony
>Could you even call her a pony?
>You mean; She, Celestia, and Luna were taller than the others
>Were they full blown horses?
>Well
>Whatever
>She pauses and looks back at you, expectantly
>You realize what she wants, and nod apologetically before you follow
>Satisfied with your obedience, she turns back to her own business and continues
>Just as well
>Allows you to take stock of your own situation
>You lost your hat
>You fucking loved that hat, too
>God dammit
>Looked good on you
>Oh well
>You still had your coat
>You reach your hands into your coat pockets, seeing if anything useful remained in them
>Your eyes widen as your left hand comes over a plump apple
>You draw it from the pocket and eye it suspiciously as you walk
>Still looked good
>In fact, they didn't look at all damaged or bruised, even though they spent a few days in the river with you
>Hell, you would have expected them to have gone bad, period, after so much time had passed
>But these weren't ordinary apples
>These were evil apples
>And, evidently, evil apples were superior to normal apples
>You get an idea, looking to your traveling companion
Hey
>You speak
>This earns an instant reaction in the form of a throaty groan from the mare
>But otherwise, she ignores you
Hey
Darkie Hooves
>You try again
>The clopping of her armored hooves against the glass is the only sound you are rewarded with
>You furrow your brows, mildly frustrated
>You were getting a taste of your own medicine
>Clearly, she is only tolerating you
>Why did you really care?
>You didn't know
>But for some reason, you wanted her to do a little more than just tolerate you
>If your goals were the same, then you wanted to be able to at least be pleasant with one another
>...And annoying her probably wasn't the best way to go about that
>You frown at your realization
>You move forward at a jogging pace and wind up along side her
>She hears you approaching and shakes her head
>But she is forced to a stop, cocking her head back when you swing in front of her
>She looks at you with a curled lip and a disgusted expression
>You hold up the apple
You didn't have breakfast
>You speak, hopeful that she will accept the offering
>She looks down at the red jewel and scrunches her nose, clenching her teeth
>You lean forward, bouncing the apple in your hand to try and make it look more tantalizing
...Well?
>You goad
>Darkie Hooves emits a hateful sound from her throat and whips a hoof up to your hand, slapping the apple away
>It sails through the air before hitting the ground, exploding into a million pieces
>You, however, are more focused on caressing your shocked wrist, biting your lower lip and glaring at her for an explanation
>She answers, with a healthy dose of corrosive venom dripping from her words
>“Those are poison, you dunce...”
>She walks past you, continuing on the journey
>The color drains from your flesh as you gaze into the volume of space that she once occupied
>...How many of these apples have you eaten?
>This shit just never ends


So, I'm gonna die?
>“Yep.”
>You follow her, as per usual, but with a heavy slouch weighing down your shoulders
>Having someone so casually proclaim your death was bothersome
Hey, hey! It can't be that bad, right? I mean...
>“How many did you eat?”
>She asks, walking with her head elevated
>Something she doesn't usually do
>Your footfalls are muffled by the sounds of her armored hooves striking volcanic glass as you two journey
>You find yourself following her along the banks of the Styx once more
>But you can't find it in yourself to care
Like...
>You pause
Fifteen
Fifteen is good, right? I would have been screwed if I ate sixteen. But I only ate fifteen, so I'm fine.
>You do your best to be optimistic
>She chortles at your stuttering, idiotic rambling
>“Oh no, you're dead. You're so dead.”
>Your hopeful smile sinks into a helpless frown
>Your arms dangle at your sides, and you find yourself grinding to a halt
>So this is what kills you, huh?
>The brutal beatings, the hunger, the drought...
>Two pitfalls of doom
>Getting soul-swapped with a creepy snot-green lesbian unicorn otherkin wiccan bitch
>Powerful temptations from the spirit of Tartarus itself
>And even the legendary river of the Styx
>You've climbed sheer cliffs with crossbow bolts stuck in your ribcage
>You rescued kids you cared nothing for from a life of slavery
>You raised charity money for an orchard in Appaloosa
>And you've endured all the head-fucking from that goddamn Alicorn princess
>But no, none of that mattered
>It was fucking apples
>God dammit
>That tree was a lying piece of shit
>Deserved whatever he gets in Davy Jones' Locker, as far as you're concerned

>You grip the hair on your head, tufts of it jutting from between your knuckles
This is bullshit!
>You exclaim, frustration becoming you
>What was the point of going on, then?
>And this fucking pony, Darkie Hooves, can do nothing but laugh at your misfortune
>Fuck her
>She gets a few dozen yards from you before she notices that your footfalls have stopped
>From this distance, all you can really make out is the blue plates of her armor reflecting what little light they could
>Her ethereal mane
>And, of course, the glowing eyes as they focus on you with a turn of her head
>You can already feel the gut wrenching pain
>The apples are striking back, soon it will be over
>“You'll be...”
>You open your mouth and cut her off
Hey, Darkie, before I go I just want to say that I'm sorry.
>Her eyes narrow
>“Human, you-”
>You cut her off again
I mean, I've only known you for a few days and all, but...
>“Human”
>She calls
I only talked as much as I did because I wanted to...
>“Human!”
>She slapped a hoof to the ground,creating a crash of glass as it cracked in a spiraling web pattern under her body
>You silence yourself
>“You expelled them all in the river. I was toying with you. You'll be fine.”
>It takes a minute for you to take in her claim
>“Now stop whining and get moving. We can ill afford any more delays.”
>You bite your lower lip, wrap a hand around your neck, and feel the sweat falling from your pours
>But soon enough, you find your brows furrowing and your arms cross over your chest
Why would you even joke about something like that?!
>You begrudgingly start following her once more
>Not sure why you don't just start moving the other way
>Maybe you feel safe around her. You don't know
>Safety is something you haven't felt in a long, long time
>“Because seeing you in misery is mildly entertaining.”
You know what? You're a bitch.
>“And you're far too gullible for your own good”
>She retorts, her head lowering as she marches forward
>That was normal Darkie
>Now you feel more at-ease
You saying that I can't trust you?
>“You can't trust anything in Tartarus”
>She snaps back quickly
>You shift your lips into a pout
Then how do I know that you aren't just going to kill me?
>She exhumes a heavy sigh
>“This, again?”
>She asks, and follows it up with a frustrated groan
>“You need me to help you get back to your little world of 'friendship' and 'magic.'”
>There is a cold silence between you two for a moment
>“Besides, I've seen how lonely you are. You wouldn't dare abandon me.”
>That much she had right
>Fuck
>You were sick of being alone
>You felt alone before
>But here, in Tartarus? It was insane
>Endless expanses of nothing
>And whenever you did meet someone, they got killed
>This place was brutal
>And you banished yourself here because you thought that -you- were
>Makes you laugh, in retrospect
>But you just fall silent and follow your guide obediently
>And she is satisfied with this
>So much so that she picks her head up again

>Finally, she comes to a stop
>You almost bump into her, but stop just short
>She raises a hoof and directs your attention to the river
>The spirits of the damned struggle on the surface, which is in perpetual turmoil
>You remember that
>You used to be involved in that orgy of perpetual violence
>“We need to cross the river, since -you- put us on the wrong side when you struggled to the surface”
>Wait, was she seriously blaming you?
>Gah, whatever
>“This is the shallowest part”
>She says in a commanding tone
>There was something soothing about it
>She spoke coldly to you, but it was warm all the same
>It let you know you weren't on your own
>She shifts her hoof and draws your attention to a number of rocky outcroppings
>Each being the goal of its own host of struggling entities trying to claw their way from the sludge
>“I will fly to the other side. You can cross by leaping from rock to rock.”
>You immediately frown
...Just carry me over.
>You suggest, in a less-than-grateful tone
>She bares her teeth, looking at you
>“No.”
>She politely refuses
Yes!
>You rebuttal
In fact, this whole buckin' trip, couldn't I have just, you know,
>She glares at you
Ridden you?
>She lifts a hoof and immediately slaps it across your face
>Your eyes go wide at just how hard she can hit with so little effort; the blow nearly knocking you off balance
>It was a few seconds before you even managed to bring yourself around to look at her again
>And for a long time after you did, your face throbbed with a burning pain
>“Peasant!”
>She cursed
>This must be a pony thing
>You caress your cheek, and for once take a firm stand against your companion
And what happens if I slip and fall?
>“You better not, because I won't be subjecting myself to it just to haul you out again.”
>You glare at her right back
You know, that doesn't make me any more eager to go play extreme hopscotch
>You just notice that she has a set of vampire jaws
>And they're dripping
>She jabs your chest with a hoof
>You start to regret your sudden refusal when you can hear her hateful heaving of breath through her teeth
>“Why do you refuse to cooperate?!”
>She said in a booming voice, one which almost bowled you over
>“I've looked into your mind, and I've seen how reckless you can be!”
>You listen, squinting an eye
>You certainly didn't think your past feats were very heroic at all
>Well, maybe a little
>But you didn't know why the hell she was so upset about it
>She kicked a hoof against the ground and caused the shiny surface of the ground to chip before she turned from you
>“I bet if I was Celestia, you'd do it in a heartbe-”
>Absolutely-fucking-not
>Fighting diamond dogs was one thing. Messing around in Tartarus was something completely different
>But Darkie Hooves stopped herself at that and paused before looking back at you
>You lifted a brow, glaring into her eyes
>Her expression softened
>The glowing eyes dimmed
>And her nebula of a mane and tail reflected an easy-going, aloof nature
>She moved to you, wearing a smile on her lips
>“Hmm...”
>And, as she swung behind you with her equine body shifting against yours, you jumped
>She came around to your van, and her tail brushed against your face
>It was the closest thing you have felt to tranquility in a long, long time
>And, for a moment, it put you in a hypnotic, lust-filled trance
>“But of course, that's not your fault”
>“Celestia has been so cruel to you, hasn’t she?”
>She started
>“Taken that beautiful mind of yours and trampled it under her cruel hoof, sent your life into a spiraling torrent of misery and anguish...”
>You can't hide a blush as you shift your eyes to look to your far right, back down the river from where you two came
>“Planting all those dirty thoughts in your head, controlling you like a puppet. Her little human, that's all you ever were to her.”
>Probably true
>You always suspected that the mind control hasn’t quite ended that night at the hospital
>That, perhaps, your life up until recently hasn’t been yours to live
>“Celestia only ever saw you as a tool, a situational instrument. She never loved you. Your loyalty meant nothing to her.”
>Darkie unfurls her wings to an impressive span and slowly wraps them around you, pulling you closer and closer until she could get a good look
>She brought her eyes as close to yours as they could be provided the horn jutting from her skull
>“You need someone who would appreciate you, someone who would ~love~ you”
>Yeah, you did
>Not even going to lie
>foreveralone.jpg
>“I know what it's like to be lonely, Anonymous...”
>Wait, what? She knows your name?
>“And I know how to reward someone of your... special talent”
>You throw your hands up and knock her back
>She falters and stumbles, eventually catching herself before looking at you with her eyes fully open and in full glow
Are you seriously trying to seduce me?!
>You criticize, to which she snarls
Look at you!
Have you seen yourself?
I mean, you've invaded my mind. You know I have no attraction to ponies
But god damn, besides all that!
>You plant your left hand on your hips while your right extends, holding out your hand as you gesture to her various features
Okay, for starters, the horn is hideous
>She crosses her eyes to look up at her horn, as if trying to see what you're talking about
>You lower her hand to motion to her face
Your eyes are each bigger than my fists. And your head is way too small!
And that's way too much eyeshadow, lady
>You move on, lowering your hand to her neck
Your neck is freakishly long...
>She withdraws her head, and shifts her eyes left to right
>As if she was actually conscious of what you were saying
Have you checked your stomach, lately? It's nothing! You're way too front-heavy! At least Celestia has some meat on her bones!
>You withdraw your right hand to your waist, looking down at her legs
Speaking of meat, your legs are like tubes filled with black jelly. Seriously, where the hell are your knees?
WHERE ARE THEY?!
I can't see them!
>You can almost see her lip quivering
>But you don't care at the second
And to top it all off, you're bald!
>To this, she objects in a desperate tone
>“N..no I'm not! My mane and tail are magic, and...”
Is it hair?
>“...No”
Then guess what that means, baldy?
>You don't stop
Horn -and- wings? Sorry, but Celestia is the only one who can pull off that look with anything close to success.
What the hell do you know about her, anyway? You some creepy stalker-fan or something? Is that why you're down here?
>Her glowing eyes twitch
>You can see the hint of moisture in the corners of her eyes
>You lift your hands and spread your arms wide, looking her up and down
You're like a bald, anorexic, mutant brontosaurus with sausage legs and a narwhal horn glued to your forehead!
>You take a moment to judge her and render a final verdict, never minding the fact that she's looking like her world has just been torn down
Two out of ten. Would not love.
>At this point, her horn is glowing with all the intensity of a thousand flashlights, and her chest heaves with thunderous fury as she eyes you
And another thing...
>You continue as a shimmering aurora grows over your body

>The other side of the lake is a far cry from the glassy desert on the opposite side
>It was wet, damp
>Humid, hot
>Sagging willows dotted the landscape, rising and twisting in gnarled form from the eons-old mycelium
>There was a shallow layer of rancid, peach-colored enzyme inhabiting lagoons
>Each fed by an alien plant stalk that dripped its foul nectar from unknown sources beyond the comprehension of man
>Deep pits of mud served as covers for vents which bubbled and erupted with noxious fumes, illuminating the air with their eerie glow
>This land was very much alive
>But it was alive in the worst way
>It was a bog, with islands of fungus and forests lining islands which only just barely escaped the surface of the rancid stuff that made up the water line
>There was a chorus of insect chatter and warped croaking from unseen amphibians
>Foreboding diseases festered unchallenged through out this otherworldly biome
FFUUUU
>But the wicked designs of this otherwise peaceful place were interrupted, when an object crashed through the canopy
>Strings of curses escaped the sinful man's lips as he ricocheted off of many surfaces on his way to ground level
>With a snap of branches, a coated figure wrapped in a midnight aurora slammed into the muddy ground and found its stop as the land engulfed him
>All sound stopped for a moment, as if the swamp itself was waiting for signs of life
>Soon afterward, a black mare drifted from the skies and landed next to him with far more grace, her hooves barely making an indent in the ground

>After a moment, you push yourself up from the icky sludge that caked your body
>You look up to Darkie Hooves with furrowed brows
I said 'fly' me over! Not throw me!
>Darkie Hooves looks down at you with a wounded glare before she tosses her head back
>“Hmpf!”
>With pride in her step, she continues down the earthen path ahead of you
>It takes you a moment to escape the sucking mud traps before you get on stable ground
>And even then you have to wipe off excess mud that has accumulated in places you didn't even know you had
>You do your best to hurry up, and as she starts to shrink into the distance you move as you try to wipe yourself off
Darkie!
>You call
Come on! Don't leave me alone out here!
>You follow, stumbling after her
>She doesn't answer, of course
>It's a long, awkwardly silent march into the next morning


>You weren't too sure if this place was an improvement over your last terrain
>At least on the obsidian fields, you could see without much obstruction
>Here, there were trees and crap in the way
>And there was life
>Where there were plants, there were bound to be creatures
>And, with your luck, they would be creatures that wanted to eat you
>The air was thick and heavy
>Stagnant
>It almost felt like you were swimming just to move
>The mud, which should have dried on your body by now, was still dripping wet
>God dammit, you were hideous
>And you felt like slime
>Fuck
>Guess you had it coming
>You did lay it on a little hard with poor Darky, here
>But that's what she gets for making you think you were going to die
>...And this is what you get for fucking with an Alicorn
>Lesson learned
>You still try in vein to brush yourself off, uncovering little hell-leeches as you work
>Pulling them off hurts, and produces little splurts of blood from your flesh each time
>Each one makes you cringe
>And curse
>Your companion doesn't speak
>But hey, that's okay
>Last thing you need was her laughing at you right now, anyway
>Or telling you to shut up
>Or fucking with you
>It afforded you and she both a chance to cool off
>As much as possible in this hellish place

>Darkie Hooves didn't care, of course
>But you did
>And as you tried to clean yourself, you were creeped out by your passing surroundings
>It was dark, with the only appreciable light source emanating from the pools of fleshy liquid
>Speaking of that liquid, you passed near the bank of one of the pools
>Floating on the surface, you could see a thin crusty skin drifting over the viscous slime
>Disgusting
>There was a hiss of steam as a thick layer of brown goop ahead of you and Darkie bubbled, releasing pent-up gas
>It was like the ammonia of your old world, and it forced you to cover your nose
>Darkie Hooves was less fortunate
>You could not know, but her sense of smell was greater than yours, but she did not have a hand to cover it
>She was forced to endure
>After the gas dissipated, she unfurled her wings and, with a single beat, propelled herself to the other side of the large puddle before waiting for you
>She may have been really mad, but at least she was still determined to stay with you
>For whatever reason
>You follow suit, taking a few steps back and vaulting yourself over to the other side
>Without a word to one another, you two continue your quest
>Your attention falls back to your surroundings
>The trees have faces
>Much more defined than those on the banks of the Styx
>These are frozen into the bark, twisted expressions of horror carved from the trees themselves
>The eyes looked like they were following you
>You tried to convince yourself that it was an optical illusion
>Just like when you were a child in the magazine section of the local store, and all the characters on the hundreds of covers would follow you as you went up and down the aisle
>You had a feeling, though, that the spirits of this place were hungrily watching you and your companion
>Regarding you with envious eyes
>This sucked
>Wasn't what you expected at all
>Hell is supposed to be fire, ash, and brimstone
>Everywhere
>But this was a constantly changing landscape, each more horrible than the last
>This one, by far, was the worst
>Not because it pissed you off
>Not because of the omnipresent pain you felt, just being in Tartarus
>But because it scared you
>Terrified you
>Everywhere you looked, something disgusted you or shocked you
>God dammit, there was another leech
>You attack it with your fingers and pry it off your neck before it squeals, producing a squirt of blood
>You cast it aside

>As you pass, Tartarus resorts to its old tricks once again
>From the murk of the glowing pools rises the rough form of you
>Composed of earth and clay, dripping with the peach colored slime
>Reenacting parts of your life that you'd rather forget
>Sitting in a kitchen, running a long knife across your arm in a depressed psychosis
>You do your best to ignore it
>Another Simulacra pops up, each time in a place that you and your companion can clearly see
>This one of you getting your ass wrecked, quite pathetically, by your former coworkers
>Did you really throw your arms over your face like that? Oh, god
>You tried not to pay attention
>Darkie wasn't
>Her attention, you wager, was most likely on the earthen reflections of herself
>Which, admittedly, is where your own attentions wander
>Like some sort of play, you see the form of a distressed Luna hanging her head low
>And then a mass of clay coalesces from the surface of the liquid, overcoming her and transfiguring her into none other than Darkie Hooves
>After which she carries herself with more apparent confidence, and actually sets out to other scenes of her confronting Celestia
>You come to a stop and watch with squinted eyes at what is being shown
>Darkie stops soon after and looks to you, gritting her teeth
>“Don't look”
>She hisses
>But you are, and you continue to do so
>As if shaped by unseen hands, the claymation continues
>Telling of a disagreement between two former sisters
>And the eventual conflict that ensued
>She wheels around and watches herself
>As, eventually, the faux Celestia brings several magical artifacts to the field whose collective power are far too great for Darkie to fight against
>And, after a very short fight, she melts away into the glowing fluid
>First the flesh, then the muscle, and then rocky bones
>And Celestia stands victorious, but with her head held low in a pose of equine depression
>You think about what you just saw
>Unfortunately, a deep thrum of magic rips you back to reality
>The light is parted as a ray of darkness lances straight and true, boring a hole through the remaining simulacra's midsection and then causing it to combust with a wet splat
>You follow the dark beam back to its originator, which is a heaving Darkie who looks upon the liquid stage with hate and malice
>“Show's over. Come on”
>She demands
>But you don't move, opting instead to cross your arms and lay your scrutinizing view upon her
>It doesn't take long for her to wheel around and make her way towards you
>“Look, you”
>She starts
>“If it weren't for me you'd still be at the bottom of the lake, wallowing in torment and begging for your precious Celestia to come save you.”
>“So you'll do what I say,”
>Her voice is more aggressive than it was before
>She's tried ignoring you, she's tried seducing you, and now apparently she's going to try and scare you
>It's a good choice
>You aren't fearless
>And as you look into her serpentine eyes, and the fanged mouth just below her snout, you realize that she could just as easily be a monster as she was a savior
>You would be lying if you ever said your arms crossing wasn't to hold yourself together more so than to look as defiant as possible
>Her words begin to run together
>Something about throwing you back into the Styx if you disobey her
>And then it goes into something else
>“Why do I even put up with you?!”
>She asks, more to herself than to you
>She paces back and forth
>Good question
>You wait to see if she's going to answer herself
>She looks up at you and sneers
>“Oh, so now you're going to be quiet?”
>She asks, her nebula mane forming an appendage at its tip to cup your chin before it whips your nose, causing you to flinch
>She gives a hateful growl
>But she still hasn’t left yet, further confirming your suspicions
Do you want to talk?
>You ask
>Because according to Tartarus, Darkie Hooves has been involved in some pretty serious shit
>But you are willing to give her the chance to tell her side of the story
>Why do you care? Why don't you just ditch her? Well, maybe you should
>But you were never the sharpest knife in the block
>This catches her by surprise, and she cocks her head back
>You can see her large, slit pupils shift left and right before settling on you once more
>Her mouth shrinks to nothing
>You take her silence as a sign of uncertainty, turning your head a degree off center and raising your nearest brow
I've been doing a lot of talking. I wouldn't mind hearing you, for a change.
>You almost – ALMOST – see a red tinge cross her nose
>You make no presumptions that this isn't because you're asking her to do something that she doesn't do much of
>For all the little time you've known her, she's been a reactionary speaker
>But she remains silent, still, as if paralysis had taken hold of her frame
>You approach this another way
Okay. How about this
>You start, thrusting your hands in your muddy pockets
>You cringe before you invert them, letting the muck  fall out while you speak
The only way you'll shut me up, is to make me listen
>You lean forward, cant your head, and force a big, wide, Pinkie Pie-esque smile
>Trying desperately to sell your point
>All of her hate for your transgressions a while ago, at the river, seems to melt away
>Her eyes shift in random directions, failing to make eye contact with you
Pleeeeease~?
>You draw out, practically begging at this point
>You were about to offer to 'be her best friend'
>But, thankfully, she settles her eyes upon you one last time before she sighs with defeat
>“...Fine”
>For the first time in a long time, you give a genuine smile
>It's shallow
>But it isn't forced, or fabricated
>And with it, you feel less tense and more at-ease
>A victory, finally
>A meaningful one
>From her position, though, she looks upon your expression with misunderstanding and suspicion
>You must have been staring
>You blink and then hoist your shoulders upwards
Oh, sorry!
>She disregards you and looks to the left, and to the right, eying her surroundings
>“We will find a place to rest, first”
>She says, her commanding tone returning
>You don't mind it. You never did
>However...
Not sure if I would feel safe anywhere, here
>You explain
>“You shouldn't”
>She responds, to which you lower your head between your shoulders
>This was Tartarus. If any part of it was completely safe, it wouldn't be a very good hell, now would it?
>Just as before, she wheels around and heads down the way that you two were following
>She doesn't bother to check, this time
>She doesn't need to
>You tug the lapel of your coat and follow, obediently

>What seems like an hour passes
>Though you have no reference for that
>Without a watch, and without a sun or a moon, it was just impossible to tell time
>There was only day, and then there was night
>Each came from unknown and unseen light sources
>In this swamp, though, it was hard to determine exactly what phase the lighting was in
>Never the less, Darkie Hooves came to a stop and looked to a small island with a thick line of trees on its outskirts
>It seemed like it was just big enough to house two adventurers
>She looked to you, as if asking for your approval
>This struck you as strange
>Since when has your opinion mattered on anything
>You shrug at her
>It was as good a place as any
>A nice little fortress
>With your acknowledgment, she circles around it to find an area where she can get through the gnarled tree line
>After a moment of searching, she finds a gap of sufficient size and, with her powerful legs, leaps right on through
>You wait for a moment
>And, seconds later, there is a horrific crack of spell power
>The trees rattle, the enzyme surrounding the island heaves, and beams of soft blue light lance out from the gaps in the trees like beams of sunlight poking through broken clouds
>The lighting of the area suddenly becomes very dark, as if it was actually destroyed by the cantrip
>You recoil, your eyes going wide as lines of electricity crackle through the air
>It gradually fades, and as it does the lighting returns to normal
>“It's safe”
>She calls out to you
>You take a few steps back, sprint forward, and leap across the filthy river before latching on to the tree line and pulling yourself into the ad-hoc shelter
>What was that?
>You ask
>And then, you can't help but give a silly laugh
It actually looked kind of cool!
>She meanders about, looking for a suitable place to lay down as you speak
>“You are easily impressed”
>She comments as she searches
>“Such spells are sloppy and uncoordinated, but useful for cleansing a localized area.”
>You take a moment to look about your surroundings before you produce a shard of obsidian, hijacked from your trip through the volcanic plains
>Darkie double takes and watches with skepticism as you start to slowly, carefully, run it across your face
>You pause, tugging on your beard to give a superior cut
What?
>“What are you doing?”
...shaving
>“With glass?”
>To be honest, the beard was getting frustrating
>The whiskers were getting in the corners of your lips, all sorts of foul crap was getting in it
>You just wanted your face back
>She gives you a disapproving glare
>You turn your hand up and point to her with the broken shard
Hey, don't think I've forgotten. You have some explaining to do.
>Her heavy sigh indicates that she -did- hope you've forgotten
>You give her a smart-alecky little smirk
>“You know, you have no way to take me up on what I said earlier.”
>You give her a toothy smile, confident that she can see it with her nocturnal vision
Hey.
Hey, Darkie Hooves.
>You start
I'm talking.
To you.
Hey.
>She starts to grimace
I can go all day!
Want me to try?
Okay! Here I go!
>You suck in a breath
>She throws up a hoof
>“Enough!”
>You silence yourself and go back to what you were doing
>RIIIIP
>You cringe
>This hurts way more than you thought it would
>But now that you've shaved some, you have to get it all
>RIIIIP
>Ow, fuck
>Luckily, Darkie starts, which distracts you a little bit

>“Are you aware of the story of Nightmare Moon?”
>She asks
No.
>“Well...”
>She begins
>“Once upon a time...”
>Your eyes shoot open and you shoot her a glare before you chop through another tuft of beard
You're not telling me a bedtime story...
>She continues, completely ignoring you
>You just go back to your primitive shave
>OW FUCK
>Over the course of what felt like half an hour, she went over the whole tale with you
>How the two Alicorn twins controlled the sun and the moon, which you already knew
>How Luna's pent up depression and anger eventually manifested itself in this 'Nightmare Moon'
>And how there was a long conflict where both the moon, which supressed the sun's light, and the sun, which produced it, hunt in the sky
>The land was enveloped in what seemed like an eternal twilight as both bodies and their controllers vied for dominance over the skies of Equestria and the whole world
>Great
>So your companion is a tumor
>A tumor of malevolence and malice
>The climax comes when she was banished to the moon, the same celestial body that she held command over
>Well, she and Luna
>It is at this juncture that you interrupt
So... you're... Luna?
>She shakes her head, being somewhat mildly offended by the question
>You don't understand
But you were banished to the moon. Not Tartarus.
>“At first”
>She says
>You fall silent, continuing your simple, and very painful, grooming
>“As it was, a few years ago...”
>She spins the tale of certain stars aligning, and focusing their celestial power in such a way that >Nightmare Moon was able to capitalize on and escape
>A flaw in Celestia's plan
>God damn. Everyone you knew had some deal with the fucking stars
>She continued to explain how she trapped Celestia, using her new found powers
>And, ultimately, it came down to six teenagers with attitude who stood before her and world domination
>You paused for a moment mid-cut, making the connection just then
>She was speaking of your friends
>This just got extremely awkward
>But you continued, just as she did
>“...and the combined powers of those accursed elements separated me from my host and banished me to this blasted plane!”
>You remain silent, and Nightmare Moon kicks a hoof against the moist ground
>Her head hangs low, light coming in from between the trees betraying her position in thin strips of illumination
>“We just wanted friends”
>She admits, her tone losing much of its aggressiveness and assertiveness
>“...we just wanted to be loved.”
>You finish your final cut, gliding the edge of the shard over your now-burning face to make sure you level out any uneven strands
>Your face was going to hate you for a long, long time
>But at least you shed your beard
So,
>You start, slowly so as to warm her up to the idea of being questioned
When you said I was 'perfect,' what did you mean? Perfect for what?
>She hesitated to answer
>But you keep pressuring her, rubbing a hand over your face to feel for any places you missed
Does it have anything to do with the fact that I would potentially be able to get close to Celestia and Luna?
>You asked
>She narrows her eyes and gives a defeated sigh
>“I suppose there's no point in hiding it”
>She said
>“I wound up in the river, Styx. I bided my time, unable to fight my way out. All I needed was an adequate vessel.”
>“And then you came to me. When I penetrated your mind, I saw that you knew the very same people responsible for my plight.”
>“It was divine providence.”
>You pocket the shard and lean back against one of the many gnarled stalks which formed the natural palisade that offered to protect you
>Letting her words sink in, you cross your legs at the ankles and your arms over your chest
And you planned to possess me directly, using me to get your revenge on those who...
>She cuts you off, very suddenly
>“No!”
>You silence yourself, curious
>“Well, at first...”
>You tilt your head towards her in an 'oh, you' expression
>She isn't very amused
>“But I'm tired of fighting”
>She admits, something that catches you off guard
>“I just want out. I want to be free. I don't care about any of that, any more”
>She says
>And even though you shouldn't, you believe her
>“Even if my creator has forsaken me, even though the world will hate me...”
>“I just want to exist. I realized that a few days ago”
>“I hate all of this.”
>To this, you can empathize
>She and you were feeling similar pain
>Physically, the torment of Tartarus' grip
>Even if you tried to act tough about it, it was agony
>Ethereal chains that kept you bound, making even breathing a difficult, non-trivial task
>With painful binds and barbs that pinned you to this world, resisting any attempt to leave
>But there was also a longing for acceptance
>At least you felt like you had it at one point
>Nightmare Moon, here, has lived for far longer than you and has never experienced it
>Never felt the joy of real friendship
>The relationship between she and Luna was parasitic, from the sounds of it
>But now, she was her own individual
>And was forced to come to terms with being abandoned in the worst place imaginable
>You thought you had it bad
>Tartarus is putting a lot of things in perspective for you
>The sad truth of the matter, however, is that Nightmare Moon will suffer
>Even if she escapes Tartarus, you know from your own experiences that having no friends is enough to drive you to insanity
>You almost went there, once
>But to be honest, you felt a small reprieve from your own torment
>Like all the pain has eased, somewhat
So you don't need me
>You conclude
>She doesn't respond
>The slitted eyes just look you in your day walker eyes
>She had something of an unfair advantage, being able to see in pitch black and all
>But you can tell that she is in a corner
>She hasn’t needed you for her plans for a while now
>But she refuses to leave you, and has gone to length to make sure that you can't leave her
>“I suppose not.”
>Her eyes fall closed
>You make your way over to the entrance of the small enclosure, and you can see her ears pivot on their joints to follow your movements
>She opens her eyes at the sound of you removing your coat and tying it up by the sleeves to cover the entrance
>Something to impede the progress of any intruders
>And it shuts out much of the light that once poured in
>“Well?”
>She asks
What?
>You respond, looking back over your shoulder as you secure the makeshift gate
>“Aren't you going to leave?”
>You look back to your work, tugging on the coat several times to try and make sure it held fast
>A determined predator would tear it down easily, but at least you would hear it
Nah
>You finally respond
>“Why? I just said I don't need you”
>She questions, a few hoof beats signaling that she backpedals away from you
>You looked over your shoulder to her glowing eyes
>You were blind, but she was not
>You knew that she would see your grin
>Tartarus was trying to play on your distrust of her to drive you two apart, making you easier pickings
>But you are Anonymous
>And you weren't as dumb as everyone thinks you are
>Nightmare Moon regards you inquisitively
...Because friends are nice to have.


Required reading to understand the context of the story: http://pastebin.com/CMFVq49L
I would like to personally thank FAGGOTRY INC LLC for his interest in the story and the wonderful little character so long ago.

>Your eyes snapped open
>Your surroundings were different
>This alarmed you
>You rocketed up into a sitting position, your coiled sheets exploding from around you
>Sweat streamed down your face
>Your eyes shifted to all angles in your periph
>Bed
>Soft sheets
>Night stand
>Window
>Holy shit
>This was your house!
>Ponyville! Yes!
>You were out of hell!
>Oh, wait a second
>You furrowed your brows and tugged your sheets back around yourself
>Not falling for this shit again
>You look over to your digital clock, which reads '6:59 am'
>It's still dark outside
>And the clock never, ever budges from its stated digits
>It's like time has stopped
>You issue an audible growl and move to get up from the illusionary bed

>Alas, a hoof as black as the void of outer space rises from its place next to you, looping around your shoulder to stop you
>You look down from your elevated position to find that you are not alone in your bed
This needs to stop
>You warn, tightening the comforter around yourself
>“Mmm... you know as well as I do that this is the best place for us to be together”
>The voice is familiar
>Nightmare Moon takes her hoof back and coils it under herself, laying her head on your lap with a smile
>And so, the nightly ritual starts
I'm a human
>“Doesn't matter”
I'm gay
>“No, you're not”
This will be rape
>“Dream rape. Doesn't count.”
When I wake up, I swear to God I'll kick you in the head
>“No, you won't.”
>She looks up at you and smiles at your helplessness
>She finds it adorable, so she's told you
>You look right back down into her eyes, frustrated at your helplessness
>“Besides, I know you love it.”
>You slouch and exhume a breathy sigh
>She was right
>So tired of being alone
>You both were
>Never anyone that either of you could truly confide in
>Never anyone who either of you felt so comfortable with
>You stroke a hand through her ethereal mane, feeling the plasma tingle against your flesh in loving patterns
>At least here, in your dreams and with the help of Nightmare Moon, you could be happy
>It's a depressing thought, that you have to retreat to a daily holodeck just to feel loved
>And with someone of a species that you aren't in any way, shape, or form compatible with
>Nightmare knows your thoughts, for she is invading them, and lifts her head from your lap
>A kiss is planted on your cheek
>It's as cold as ice, causing your flesh to tense up
>But you enjoy it, anyway
>“No more sad thoughts”
>She teased
>“We're together, right now, and that is all that matters”
>You exhume a defeated sigh
You're right
>You admit
You're always right
I'm sorry.
>Accepting your apology without even a second's thought, she grins at you with those seductive eyes and drags you down into the turbulent sea of the mattress covers

>It was awkward for her, but she preferred to be on her back
>Hard to believe that she was a submissive
>Oh well, you and she took turns
>Fair was fair
>Careful not to damage her soft body, you straddled her with one knee on either side of her
>Your right arm hooked around the base of her neck while your left held her right hoof in place
>Without any thought for the consequences, content that there wouldn't be any in such a dream state, you drew your lips to hers
>“I love you”
>She muttered at an accelerated rate before your lips came to hers
>You allowed your actions to do the talking
>Your lips melded with hers, and you canted your head off center to ensure a superior fit
>Her wings flared uncontrollably  out from under her, causing the sheets to snag
>But you didn't worry about it
>As her prehensile lips explored the limitations of yours, you were keen to explore her inner cheeks with her tongue
>Likewise, she was more than happy to thrust hers against yours; filling your mouth with her long, massive organ
>You choked for a moment, thrusting your eyes open
Mmmf~!
>But soon enough, your eyes fall closed once more, just accepting the differences in your bodies
>She had advantages in mouth to mouth, but you had your own bonuses
>You withdraw your hands and cup them over her rounded cheeks, something which makes her giggle happily through the lip lock
>Gingerly, you trail your finger tips down her face, and then her neck, down to her shoulders
>Gently tracing them across the contours of her musculature
>Touching her in ways that hooves couldn't
>With precision that they could not match
>You draw your face from hers with a breathy moan, taking the moment to fill your lungs with fresh air
>She was quivering under your touch, and a single eye opens to peer upwards at you wantingly
>Your eyes fall half closed, and your fingers trace down the center of her chest, part while following her ribs, and find themselves at the stem of her outstretched wings
>“Oh!”
>She gasps, but you quickly muffle that by diving in for another kiss
>Her tongue fills your cheeks once more, and your tongue welcomes hers
>With the lightest of grips, your palms run up her humerus, radius, and then come to a stop at the joint with the alula
>She uncontrollably flaps her wings, which sends your covers all over the place
>Deciding that you were done with them, you bring your left hand to her shoulder
>Your right hand trails up to her horn, and you gently caress the base
>Her eyes shoot open, and you can watch as her slitted pupils roll into the back of her head
>With a mild grip, you take it between your thumb and index finger before pulling her head back into the pillow
>Her tongue slithers from your mouth and back into hers, after which she promptly moans
>“Oooh, Anonymous, not there”
There.
>You answer, massaging the sensitive bone with your lips free to explore the length of her neck
>“I love you”
>She repeats
>Your mouth is far too busy running a tongue down her body
>“Anonymous...”
>Your hand leaves her horn, and you crawl down her anatomy as your tongue explores her chest
>“Oh, oh my”
>She gasps
>Your eyes drift closed and you find yourself tasting her stomach
>Your hands gently pry apart her inner thighs and make way for the next base
>She lowers two hooves to your head, guiding you to exactly where she wants you to go
>Exactly where you want to go
>The heat of her excited sex wafts across your face
>Just like you always imagined

>“SHRMANON”
>Nightmare Moon screams in terror
>You rocket upwards from her, supporting yourself with your hands
>Nightmare's hooves coil up under her body, and she looks absolutely traumatized
>“I am the ghost of re-”
G—Gorp?!
>You stutter
>The mare in your bed cries
>“What is the meaning of this?!”
>The Ghost of Retardation Past recoils, finally coming to terms with what it just teleported into
>“What the FUCK?!”
>It stumbles
>“Shermanon! When I told you to find someone smarter to hit you whenever you did something dumb, this is NOT what I meant!”
>You roll off of Nightmare Moon and coil the sheets around yourself, hiding your shame
>She does the same, all eyes locked on the apparition
Not now, Gorpster! Get out of my head!
>It pulls its hood back, revealing the visage of Fluttershy
>You never thought you would be so humiliated in your own dreams
>Nightmare looks between you and it
>“No can do, Sherma-”
It's just Anonymous! Where the hell does this 'Sherm' shit come from?
>“Fine! No can do, Anonymous. I'm here until you wake up.”
Why the buck do you look like Fluttershy?!
>You ask, terrified
>“How should I know? I only look like what you want me to look like.”
>There's an awkward silence that befalls your dream room
>The Ghost of Retardation Past looks between you and Nightmare
>Nightmare looks between you and it
>And you?
>Well...
>Your face is buried in both palms
>Nightmare Moon leans closer to you, never taking her eyes off of the faux Fluttershy
>“...I want it to watch”
>You lift your head from your hands and furrow your brows
>Your hand comes smashing down against your alarm clock, setting it off
>Both of your guests scream in pain
>Your room erupts into a swirl of prismatic colors
>And, before you know it, you are violently ripped from your unconsciousness back to reality

D'uah!
>You jump
>You look at your surroundings
>Dark
>Really dark
>Yep, still in hell
>Improvement over that fucking dream sequence
>Nightmare opens one drowsy headlight of an eye, and a feline pupil narrows upon you
>“What?”
>She asks in an aggravated tone
>You take a moment to collect yourself before answering
>She waits patiently
S-sorry. Bad... dream.
>She looks up to the canopy and shakes her head before closing her eyes
>“Foal...”
>She calls you, slipping back into her own sleep
>It takes you a few moments, watching her plasmic aurora mane move about in random, beautiful patterns
>But, finally, you are able to achieve sleep again