Eternity [immortality/dark]

>You are Twilight Sparkle.
>Equestria is eternal. The universe will undergo no heat death or issue with entropy. An immortal being would live to infinity.
>You are Graham's Number years old.
>You are interminably immortal.

--

>When you were 2000 years old, there was an assassination attempt against you; the pony stabbed you through the heart.
>The pain was splitting and unique: your heart, the very splint of your second-by-second existence, had been terminally cleaved.
>You realized that you were about to die, and though in shock, in your final seconds you felt a spiritual bliss at the divinity of existence, and the miracle that was your life.
>And then you were no more.

>Except, you were. Your earliest memory from after your assassination was of a muted, atemporal pain; there was no cognition, language, ego, or time, but there was breathing -- without cognition that it were breathing -- and there was pain.
>At some point you opened your eyes and entered full consciousness.
>Celestia knelt over you; she looked at you with deep, eternal eyes, and with a faint smile, said, "You still are."
>It was on that day that you learned of the resilience of your alicorn form.

--

>Your first suicide attempt was when you were 20,000 years old.
>You had read every book in Equestria and mastered every magic.
>You envied the the mortals whose tales with death bore an everlasting consummation.
>You wished to finish reading the book of your life. You had had a beautiful and full existence.
>You arranged all matters for a smooth logistic transition. Your life had no loose ends.
>Cognizant of the autonomous regenerative durability of your wingéd form, you constructed a guillotine to decapitate yourself.
>On the eve of a night of no particular meaning -- for you viewed all things with an aged equanimity -- you stretched forth your neck as you beheld the setting sun.
>Your countenance bore a smile, and in a blessed peace, tears trickled down your cheek of neither sorrow nor joy, but of the inexplicable Being.
>As the last rays stretched across the orb of earth and sky, you read the last sentence of the book of your life as the blade incised.
>Your head hit the floor, and the paradox of life resolved.

--

>You cannot count how many millions of times you have attempted suicide, but every time you eventually reconstituted, and the corporeal reconstitution was always helpless writhing agony as bone grew flesh grew skin.
>You also cannot count how many times you have been imprisoned and tortured with a promise of literally eternal suffering.
>In one instance -- in fact, one of the more mild instances -- you had been restrained within a machine that continuously ground away your horn and bones with circular gears and saws. Even the saw that continuously ground away your pelvis bone from inside your vagina was scarcely the worst. You were always screaming.
>They placed the machine deep below the earth with a perpetual energy source, with the intent that you be unfathomably tortured for literally all eternity. The mortals, like wind, soon forgot about you.
>You do not know for how long that indescribable torture lasted; you had gone insane after only a few days.
>By the 500th year, all you knew among your continuous autonomous writhing and madness was that this is your eternity. Time is meaningless; the suffering that awaits your immortal future is always the same: literally infinity. There is not death or end; there is only eternal torture and the weeping soul-torture of this eternal fate.
>Billions upon trillions of years passed, and the machine continued to grind away your perpetually regenerating bones and flesh, as it would for all eternity.

--

>No nested orders of magnitude can begin to describe for how many eons was that eternity before you were accidentally found and exhumed by archaeologists.
>After they literally vomited and dry-heaved in disgust at the unrivaled, absolute evil of what had been your ostensibly eternal fate, they were ecstatic for their find. Unfortunately for the archaeologists, for millennia you were a perpetually gibbering, flailing, profusely sobbing madpony, but your right mind eventually returned.
>Of course, your fist cogent decision was to terminate your existence.
>You failed, of course. The atoms remaining from the atomic disintegration of your body attracted each other and slowly formed a fleshy, oozing mound that, over time, grew into you. The whole experience was semi-conscious agony as usual.
>And then there remained the eternity of existence.

--

>You buried yourself deep beneath the earth, immobilized in a concrete.
>You could not end your suffering, but you could render it static.
>In your concrete coffin, you breathed and sobbed, and breathed and sobbed.
>You slept and breathed and sobbed and woke and sobbed and slept and woke.
>You are interminably immortal.
>You must exist forever.
>Infinity: suffering.
>Eternity: the difference between life and hell.
>And you suffered forever.