Oneshot: The Glory of the Glistening Oil

*Day of Compleation in Equestria

>It's morning
>You wake up, roll out of bed, and shuffle your way to the bathroom to begin your morning routine
>You are Anon, the only human in the world of Equestria
>You've been here for several years now, having been mysteriously transplanted from your home plane as a child
>The last thing you remember from your previous life is your home town being invaded by a dark and sinister force
>An army of flesh and metal horrors swarmed your town, harvesting your friends and neighbors
>Some went willingly, while most were simply murdered and hauled off
>A large resistance formed, and tried to protect the town and it's citizens
>When they failed, they then tried to evacuate everyone and flee into the countryside
>Both attempts were met in a similar manner;  any attempt to fight or run was met by a brace of rotting, mechanical horrors
>Those harvested or killed in battle were then assimilated into the collective; used as puppets to instil despair among the remaining population
>Most of the seige has been scabbed over by your memory, but a few things have been seared in forever
>Belching smokestacks raining ash
>The grinding and twanging of oil-soaked springs and gears
>The agonized shrieks of those around you
>The silent efficiency in which the monsters performed their tasks
>The most prominent memory, however, is the symbol this army flew
>It was simply a ragged circle, with a vertical line bisecting it
>This symbol was displayed everywhere, from banners, inscribed in their perverse holy tomes, and even etched in the flesh of their war-beasts

>You remember seeing your father try and protect you and your mother from one of these monsters, one they referred to as a 'Negator'
>He fought bravely, managing to strike the oily horror a few times before a hand full of emaciated claws pierced through his chest
>Thus impaled, he was lifted by his sternum and casually tossed at an insectoid machine following the beast, which extended a jointed foreleg and speared him mid-air
>The machine then began to methodically flay him, separating skin from muscle, then muscle from bone, all while you and your mother were forced to watch, cornered
>The horror then set it's sights on you, and your mother huddled over you to act as a shield
>In your mind's eye you can still see her anguished face as the beast sank it's claws into her back and ripped her, screaming, from you
>She was likewise tossed to the following machine, and was separated into neat piles
>The beast then turned to you, a grin forced across it's rows of needle teeth from the skin tightly pulled against its bloated, misshapen frame
>It cocked back an oil and gore soaked claw, and pistoned it forward at you
>You closed your eyes and screamed, and at that moment were engulfed in a flash of white light

>When you opened your eyes, what looked like a light purple horse was frozen in place, staring at you
>You stared right back, and you both began screaming
>After the freak-out session that is customary when you accidentally planeswalk away from your own death into a land of magic candy horses
>(And also Cheerilee's freak-out session when she was suddenly faced with a scared, dirty monster in her living room)
>You explained what you remembered, and also it seemed you were an orphan
>She sympathized, and said you could stay with her until you figured out what was going on
>Long story short, you were able to grow up, get a sembalance of an education, land a job and move out before you figured out your situation
>You still don't know why you were brought here, but the fact is you were and you're grateful for that
>You like it here
>It's more or less the only life you've ever known

>There's nothing here to remind you of your former life, and this land is more or less always peaceful
>One thing you could do without, though, is Fluttershy's constant sexual advances
>You befriended Fluttershy relatively early on in your stay here, and over time she developed a huge crush on you
>And by 'crush', you mean a creepy, stalker-esque relationship where she tried to force you into loving her
>You go out of your way to not lead her on, but you try to spare her feelings as much as possible
>But as uncomfortable as it makes you, she's not a real danger to you, and you know it's all out of love
>You finish your shower, get dressed, and throw some bread in the toaster for breakfast when you hear a knock at the door
>You look at the clock
>Huh
>It's too early to be Fluttershy;  she's always very punctual
>And besides that, she hasn't stopped by in the past few days
>In fact, you haven't seen ANY of the mane six for a few days....
>You can that thought as you answer the door
>You're greeted by... Angel, you think
>It LOOKS like Angel, but something seems off about him
>Even though he's completely clean, he just seems....
>Greasy

>You suppress a shudder
How's it going, Angel?
>His head twitches, and he starts to stare you down
>Without warning, he launches himself at your chest
>Surprised, you jump back, and he misses his target
>However, he grabs the bottom of your pants on his descent, pulls himself in, and sinks his teeth into the meat of your calf
THE FUCK!
>You begin violently thrashing your leg, trying to work the little bastard loose, when you feel a sharp pain in the chunk of flesh in Angel's mouth
>It almost feels like a hypodermic needle
>Scratch that
>The warm numbness rapidly spreading from the puncture wound would suggest that it was some sort of needle
>Your leg instantly goes numb, causing you to collapse
>Angel stares dispassionately at you, and the venom works it's way through your bloodstream
>In less than a minute, you're completely paralyzed
>As your vision starts to gray out, you see Angel's head snap around, and faintly hear a scrabbling, clicking sound
>That's all you remember before your vision goes black
-------------------------------------------------------------



>Some time later, you begin to stir
>The first sensation you get is that wherever you are, it's SO WARM
>Uncomfortably, stiflingly warm
>You've been blindfolded, which adds to the creeping sense of claustrophobia you're suddenly experiencing
>The next sensation to register is the smell of hot motor oil
>Wait
>MOTOR OIL
>Your body involuntarily spasms and jerks, and you find yourself vertically crucified to a lab table, arms and legs secured with heavy metal wire
>Every repressed memory floods your panicked mind
>Oh Gods
>The oil
>They found me
>You buck and jerk against your restraints, frantically trying to tear yourself free
<Note:  Subject showing signs of agitation, including elevated heart rate and epinephrine release>
>You freeze
>You felt that voice in your mind
<Subject's heart rate remains elevated, but Subject is no longer struggling.  Hypothesis:  Subject is receptive to short-range telepathy and can thusly hear me>
<Continuation:  Subject remains still so as to descern the source of telepathy.  Initiate full-body scan to determine reactions to compleated individuals>
>This voice is familliar...
Twilight?   Is that you?
<End notes; initiate recording devices.  Subject has adressed me verbally>
>You hear another voice come from what sounds like a doorway
>'Has Anon woken up yet, Twilight?'
<Yes, Mistress.  What shall you have me do?>
>'Remove his blindfold and aquaint him with his surroundings.  I shall fetch the others.'
<As you wish, Mistress>
>The sensation of cold chrome dances across your temples, and you feel a scalpel gently cut the blindfold off your eyes
>You blink hard to adjust your eyes to the sudden rush of hot air, and when you open them, you begin to scream in horror

>You find yourself in a grim mockery of Twilight's library
>There's only just enough light for you to be able to see clearly
>Where there was once healthy heartwood, only blackened, blighted wood remains
>There are streaks of bright copper and pale green patina intermingled in the diseased wood, as if it grew with the tree
>The floor is covered in a colorful patchwork quilt, seemingly expertly sewn out of scraps of discarded flesh
>Throughout the macabre design, you notice irregular patches of orange, purple, white, pink, and blue intermingled with the dominant bloodred
>And in the center of the room, seemingly suspended in mid-air above the central table, is the only obvious source of light
>It appears to be a symbol, carved out of black metal and glowing a sickly green
>Upon seeing it you freeze, your suspicions confirmed
>You watched your home and family be consumed by the blight to reality that flew this symbol
>And now it followed you here
>To this defenseless, pastel world
>You shudder to think what these creatures are going to do to Cheerilee, and your friends
>Your friends
>You realize that you could hear Twilight's thoughts;  she must be close
>You snap your head around to locate her, and once you do you're chilled to your very core
T..Twilight?

>What looks like an elongated chrome spinal column with a head is arched like a cobra in front of you, seemingly examining you
>You say seemingly, because even though the head looks mostly like a unicorn skull, you can't discern any eyes;  only flat, polished chrome where the eyes should be
>At the peak of the arch of her back, two large spines growing at a 45 degree angle from each other intermittently have an arc of blue energy run up them
>The portion of her in contact with the floor has rows of multi-jointed insectoid legs
>Upon attracting your attention, the creature scrabbles nervously, its centipede legs puncturing and finding purchase in the soft carpet of discarded flesh
>Its arms, which seem to be larger versions of its walking legs with more joints and various medical examining tools grafted onto them, fold into its chest
>The creature attempts a sembalance of a bow
<Greetings, Father>
>That was definately Twilight's voice
Twilight?  Is that you?
>The abomination before you grins, a difficult task considering its cheekless mouth is constantly forced into a humorless rictus
<You could say that>
What happened to you?  What's going on?
>Twilight curls her back portion around itself like a snake, keeping her front half elevated
>You assume this is what her version of sitting down and getting comfortable is
<Patience, Father.  I was instructed to not give you details until my Mistress returned with my Sisters>
>Your mind is buzzing with fear and frantic questions
Who's your Mistress?  And your Sisters?  Why do you keep calling me Father?
>Twilight's head cocks slightly, and her metallic horn sparks in irritation
<I repeat:  I was instructed to not give you details until my Mistress returned with my Sisters>
>Further questions are ignored, and you finally decide to wait in silence
>It's not like you can escape or anything
>After a few minutes, you hear a cacophony of footsteps coming from the doorway leading to the basement
>You and Twilight turn, and are met by a menagerie of horrors that shuffle their way into the room

>First through the doorway is a lanky, spidery figure that appears to be armored in cracked white porcelain
>Its stretched, emaciated frame is accentuated by an obvious lack of skin;  its entire form is wanting for it
>Blood slowly oozes out from the gaps and joints in the armor, flowing down and etching red rivulets in the otherwise pristine porcelain
>The creature's thin legs end in sharp, delicate points that sink deep into the flesh carpet
>Its head is adorned with an unbroken, eyeless helm of porcelain that encompasses the head but leaves the the lower jaw exposed
>Attached to where the hips are is a flowing piece of purple fabric, giving the monster a noble, regal appearance
>The impression you get from the creature is that of a beautiful, sad, broken doll
>That is, until it turns to look at you
>Its porcelain helm is only unbroken on one side; the other side having a large triangular chunk missing from the base of the deadly sharp horn down to the base of the mask
>Exposed on the broken side is a large, unblinking, crystal clear purple eye
>The lack of skin makes the eye appear to bulge and plead to be released from the confining mask
>If that sentiment was felt by the being, however, it didn't show;  Rarity sauntered over and stood next to the Twilight creature

>Next to appear is a being that obviously used to be Pinkie Pie;  its profile is that of the mare in her Gala dress
>That's where the similarities end, however
>Her mane, usually vibrantly pink and poofy, hangs in muted, oily strands matted to her face
>The skin on her face and forelegs has begin to decay in places; a strange, leaden metal peeking out from the wounds
>She likewise is sporting a major lack of skin, however it's less noticable;  she's at least wearing clothes
>It looks like she's wearing a dress made of a mixture of boiled leather and the carapice of a beetle;  it's pliable, but iridescent
>Thin black strands zigzag across the bare, raw flesh of her back, sewing her up in a grim corset
>Her back legs are completely obscured by the 'dress' she's wearing, but you don't see any obvious movement of legs underneath the hard fabric
>However, she's leaving several thousand pinprick footsteps in her wake
>She's giggling constantly, a noxious greenish gas escaping from her mouth, and also from various glowing chartruse vents spaced randomly around her body
>Her eyes are wide and frantic, pupils constricted and darting around the room at anything that catches her attention
>She's also silently weeping oily tears of mirth, the ichor cascading down into her grinning mouth full of pitted, leaden teeth
>Laughing like a maniac, she stumbles her way over to the other two monsters and degenerates into quiet giggles

>The next thing to force its way inside was easily three times as big as any of the others
>It had to squeeze itself to fit through the doorframe, and once inside it had to walk softly to avoid knocking anything over
>Its bristled, hunched appearance called to mind the thought of a bear mixed with a boar
>In leiu of hooves, it appeared to have the stealthy pads of some sort of large predatory cat
>In addition, rows of razor sharp teeth lined its drooling mouth
>It also sported a ponytail, braided out of long, thin spines growing out of the back of the beasts head
>Its mottled green/brown flesh was torn in places, exposing wiry bands of steel muscles underneath
>At various points around its massive frame, patches of hard, spiky bristles that served as protection and ornamentation broke through its leathery skin
>All in all, this massive beast was very plain, very practical
>Very deadly
>Very efficient at its prescribed task
>In essence, very Applejack
>She lumbers over to the group and plants her ass on the ground with a *thud* that shakes the room, obviously irritated at the confinement


>The last of the monstrosities to enter the room seems to be having a difficult time moving at such a slow pace
>It's smaller than the rest, about the size of a normal pegasus
>However, instead of wings, this creature has what appears to be two organic rocket pods growing from where normal wings would connect to the body
>Its body is skeletal and light, an orange-red glow eminating from inside its exposed ribcage
>Its legs were obviously not designed for walking; the back ones extend backwards much too far, assumably to make the creature more aerodynamic
>And its front legs are long, wicked scythes, able to pivot down as rudimentary legs, but more naturally accustomed to spreading wide and acting as rudders
>Or, in a pinch, severing a head at high velocity
>The head looks mostly equine, save for the fact that it looks like it's made of cast iron that's still red-hot in patches
>Its eyes are those of smoldering embers, occasionally hidden by the mane of rainbow fire that dances and flickers in an unfelt breeze
>Upon clearing the doorway, and seeing a straight shot to her seat, Rainbow fires up her engines
>She belches a short burst of fire behind her and effortlessly skids to a halt in front of you, leaving a path of charred skin in her wake

>As you stare in horror at the assembled mass, from the back of the group you hear:
>'Do you like them, my love?'
>A jaundiced yellow pegasus floats from the doorway and makes her way up to you
>Your stomach turns as you realize who it is
F-Fluttershy?
>Her eyes are simple black orbs, a shocking parody of their former beautiful teal color
>She also appears to be constantly weeping oil, it running rivulets down her muzzle and neck
>Her wings are ragged and in a desparate need of grooming, and her skin is hanging in bags off her frame
>'In a former life, I was known as Fluttershy, yes.  However, names have little meaning in Phyrexia, serving only to identify individuality and thus distance yourself from the collective'
>Phyrexia
>The very name sends waves of revulsion through you
>'My children have no major purpose yet, so we may refer to them as their former selves, but you may refer to me by my title, Mistress of Machines'
>'Mistress, for short'
>Your mind reels and your head goes light, threatening to black out
Fluttershy...
>She interrupts
>'Mistress, if you don't mind'
I DO mind.  Fluttershy, what's going on here?
>She scoffs
>'Your impudence and resistance will not bode well for you in the future'
>'At any rate, you do deserve an explaination'
>She bites her lip, and grins seductively
>'Firstly, I'd like to thank you'
>'You have the distinct honor of bringing the glory of the Glistening Oil to this weak, fleshy world'

>You choke, and then cough as the weight of the words hit you
This... is MY fault?
>Mistress Fluttershy floats up to you and nuzzles her oil-soaked face into your chest
>'Not FAULT, my love.  'Fault' implies a negative connotation.'
>'You were the glorious vessel in which the perfection of this world came'
>This doesn't make any sense
I-if I really DID bring the oil, wouldn't I have known it by now?  I mean, I'm not like you....
>The abomination formerly known as Twilight stiffens at this
<Mistress, if I may, I believe I have an answer>
>Fluttershy turns to the chrome monstrosity
>'Proceed, my child'
>Twilight turns to face you, and begins projecting:
<The Glistening Oil is the proliferation engine in which Phyrexian progress spreads>
<Living organisms exposed to it soon begin to hear whispers of the ancient collective knowledge, and begin to hunger to have their weak, mortal bodies replaced with pristine, beautiful machine>
<Additionally, blueprints of successful creations are stored in the history of the Glistening Oil>
<One of the simplest, but most effective, of Phyrexian creations is the 'sleeper agent', a seemingly normal being immune to the oil, that in fact unintentionally distributes it and lets it fester>
<Occasionally, sleeper agents are made when a being that has come in contact with the oil escapes compleation, and the oil goes into dormancy, covertly spreading and multiplying until such a time in which it can re-assert itself>
<We believe you are a Phyrexian sleeper agent, Anon>
>A feeling of cold dread overcomes you
>Mistress Fluttershy interjects:
>'You may have noticed some strangeness about my beautiful Angel'
>'I expanded on the sleeper idea, and turned him into a covert abduction unit'
>She smiles
>'He's such a good bunny'

>Your mouth is dry, and your mind is reeling from this new information
>This is your fault
>You're close to a mental breakdown;  not only did your home fall to this plague, but your adoptive home seems to be heading that direction too
>And it seems you're an unintentional agent of everything you hate
>After a second of stunned silence, you finally ask:
Why did you kidnap me?  What do you need from me now?
>You hear yourself, and your voice sounds defeated
>Fluttershy continues to nuzzle your chest, looking up at you with those void, soulless eyes
>'That's the best part, my love'
>'The nature of Phyrexia demands that it have a rigid caste system, with a central figurehead serving as Lord and God over all'
>'We yearn for a being to deify and worship, a focal point for our love and adulation'
>'Seeing as you were the progenitor of our Glorious Infection, we thought it fitting that you be our Father of Machines'
>The bottom drops out of your stomach
>Rainbow pipes up, with a voice that sounds like a red-hot sawblade skipping across concrete:
>'No one deserves this title more than you, man'
>Pinkie manages to giggle 'We-hee-hee-hee love you, Anon!  Think of how much FUN we could have with you as the Father!'
>Rarity, with a voice like a knife dragging across a plate, whispers:
>'You could unite us, darling.  Think of how beautiful it would be.'
>Applejack booms: 'THE WHOLE WORLD, UNDER THE COMFORTING BLANKET OF PHYREXIAN LOVE.  YOU COULD DO IT.'
>Twilight interjects:
<This is the ultimate form of friendship and love.  A collective conciousness, all helping each other and perfecting itself as a whole>
>Fluttershy grins, and slowly ascends in front of you
>'And you could be the driving force behind it, my love!  A new age of unending love is at our fingertips!  What do you say?'

>What do you say?
>To being the leader and figurehead of this chapter of the blight of the Multiverse?
>To standing for everything that has given you nightmares for most of your life?
>Your heart begins to pound, and your blood begins to boil
>There's a primal energy surging up inside you
What do I SAY?
>Years of fear and anxiety boil down and condense into pure, raw hatred
>You know of their brand of love
>And you want nothing to do with it
I say... FUCK YOU!
>You thrash violently against your restraints, eager to break free and tear these abominations apart
>You lock eyes with Fluttershy, and continue to rage at your bindings
>You're so angry you're actually foaming at the mouth
>You are going to MURDER-FUCK EVERYTHING
>EVERYTHING
>It doesn't matter that it's six-on-one, and that they are perfectly tuned killing machines
>The only thought in your mind is inflicting as much pain and suffering on these THINGS as possible
>With a wrathful surge of strength, your right arm works free of its bindings, and begins to frantically claw at your other hand
>You work your fingers bloody tearing metal cable off your left wrist, but you don't feel it
>Fuck pain, all you feel is RAGE
>And in your mind, you hear
<Fluttershy, I don't think this is working>

>You hear Applejack boom:
>'AH AGREE, SUGARCUBE.  IT DOESN'T LOOK LIKE HE'S ENJOYING THIS AT ALL.'
>Rainbow agrees: 'He looks more mad than anything else'
>Fluttershy shakes her head, and says:
>'No, you're wrong.  I'm sure I've got it this time.  Phyretic Compleation just HAS to be his fetish'
>Upon hearing this, you freeze and your head snaps around
...f..f..fetish?
Fetish?
FETISH?!?!?
>And with that, your mind breaks
>Rage overcomes you, and you begin to frantically swipe at Fluttershy's floating form with a bloodied claw
>You notice that your left shoulder dislocates, and you jerk an extra few inches closer to your target
>Twilight sighs, and the blue arcs of electricity running up her spines cease
>In a blink, Twilight's illusion spell dissolves
>You're in Twilight's library as you remember it, with the mane six standing in the same positions their Phyretic counterparts were
>Fluttershy, still hovering in front of you, asks:
>'So... it's NOT your fetish, then?'
I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU, YOU CRAZY NEON HORSE!
>Rarity scoffs
>How rude!  Fluttershy, dear, how did you come to the conclusion that Anon had a fetish for Phyrexia?'
>She blushes, and looks at the ground
>'He, uh, talks in his sleep'

>You're still clawing at Fluttershy, determined to choke the life out of her
>There's an awkward silence among the mane six
>That tends to happen when you accidentally collectively expose someone to to their deepest nightmare in an attempt to get your friend laid
>Meanwhile, you're still foaming and snorting, trying to break free
>Twilight says 'You know, Anon, we should let you out, but as it stands right now I think it'd be better for everyone involved if we kept you there'
>'You might accidentally hurt somep0ny if we let you out now'
IT WON'T BE AN ACCIDENT, YOU AUTISTIC PURPLE BITCH!
>She looks awkwardly at the ground, and says 'Yeah, we're just going to go for a while.  We'll be back to let you out in a few hours'
>She re-secures your hand with magic, and rotates the table so you're lying on your back
>You hear hoofbeats shuffling toward the door, and the door latch shut
>And you're left strapped to a table, with the rage of a thousand white-hot suns coursing through you
>Fucking Twilight
>Fucking Fluttershy
>Fucking Phyrexia
>Fucking EVERYTHING