Dead Anon: Chapter 2 (Among the Living)

>You shield your eyes as you awaken from your slumber.

>It’s been so long since you’ve seen the blinding rays of the sun.

>Yet instead of anger, you only find relief in the warmth it brings.

>Swinging your hips off the side you place your bare feet on the tiled floor.

>Yes, this was your home. Was…

>The nostalgia passes just as quickly as it came, your mind revisiting yesterday’s events.

>How could you have been so weak? To betray your very morals for personal gain…

>But in truth you’d do it over again in a heart beat.

>You made her a promise, and you never break your promises.

 

>You pick up the garbs next to your bed, the same clothes you’d worn for the past hundreds of years.

>Maybe it’s time for something new?

>Tossing them aside you open your closet, your old clothes still hanging neatly inside.

>Besides the obvious buildup of dust, it’s almost as if you never left.

>One particular set catches your eye and you take out the old denim pants and silk shirt.

>It’s been over six centuries since you first found yourself on Canterlot’s doorstep, give or take twenty or fifty years.

>The looks on the guard’s faces were hilarious, but you can reckon the one on yours was priceless.

>You remember sitting there on the dirt road staring back at the armor-clad ponies, completely dumbfounded by the sight.

>Most of the dirt has been washed off since, but you still find the same streak that has plagued the jeans since your arrival.

 

>These clothes had served you faithfully in your life. You’re tempted to don your old pals, but you’ve outgrown them quite a bit.

>Perhaps you can find somep0ny to tailor them for you, but alas, that’s for another time.

>Your eyes fall back to your discarded pair of clothes, seemingly the only pair that’ll fit.

>You sigh and slip back into your previous outfit with disdain. You were hoping for something a little… fresh.

>Hooves knock against your door, “Heya Anon? You in there?”

“What is it?”

>”Anonymous has requested your presence. Hurry up will ya?”

“Hold your horses. Damn, p0nies these days. No patience.”

>You finish up and open the door, the orange p0ny you saw yesterday waiting for you.

“Back in my day p0nies had respect for another’s time and being.”

>”Don’t you get all other timey on me, we got places to be.”

“Fine, after you.”

 

>She leads you out and through the castle halls.

“What did you say your name was again?”

>”I didn’t.” You didn’t know harpies flew this far south.

“Apple-something or other, right? Forgive me, but I’m terrible with names.”

>”I’m sure.”

“A little short with the words huh? Applejack! Your name’s Applejack.”

>”What made you remember?”

“You were being a jackass, so the shoe kind of fit.”

>She scoffs at your attempt at humor and gives you the cold shoulder.

>”So what’s your story? Another drop-in I presume.”

“I don’t exactly follow.”

>”Why’d he bring ya here?”

 

“How should I know? The guy snuck into my cell and broke me out so I could fight for him. I didn’t ask why.”

>”So you were a prisoner? I don’t know many prisons in Equestria.”

“Well Tartarus ain’t quite as nice.”

>She stops and stares at you, “Wait, you’re…”

“Dead Anon, at your service,” you say with a grin.

>”Why- How- But-“

“Ask that douche you call a leader. I’m just here for the reward.”

>”B-but what would you want? You’re dead!”

“The only thing a dead man would want. Life.”

>”You’re crazy.”

“Just enough to follow this freak, and what does that say about you?”

>”I got my own reasons to follow ‘im.”

“I’m sure you do.”

 

>You get ahead of her, “I do! I do, ya hear?!”

“Whatever you say AJ. Throne room? Throne room.”

>She angrily follows behind you, likely frustrated about how you called her out on the rug.

“To answer your question, I was a hero. Before I died of course. I took the title of those who came before me and did my job. Have you ever lost, but won at the same time AJ?

>”Can’t say that I have.”

“Well, it changed my life. It didn’t seem that way at first, but after I got used to her…”

>”You lost to a mare?”

>Her questioning words were meant to sting, but they fail to dampen your spirit.

“She was special, and I would do anything to be with her again.”

>”Are you sure she’s still alive?”

“Love is one thing that surpasses time. Yes, she’s alive.”

>You push open the throne room doors, ending the conversation there.

 

>”Anon, glad you could make it,” Anonymous booms upon your entry. “Applejack, you can take your leave now.”

>”Yes sir.”

>She breaks away from your side, “Come Anon, let’s relax a while.”

>He darts towards you and sits, a couch appearing at the snap of his fingers.

>”Éclair?” he asks brandishing a plate.

“No thanks, two’s enough for me.”

>He shakes his finger at you with a smile, “Oh you… Gustav told me someone snatched one last night. You sneaky sneak you.”

>A gleam catches his eye, “A toast then, to the beginning of great things.”

>Another snap and a chalice falls in your hands, “Bottoms up.”

>You figure “why not?” and gulp at the contents.

 

>You spit out the crimson liquid, spewing it over the floor.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!?”

>The taste of blood is extra potent, unlike the treated stuff you got back in Frostbite.

>”Drink up now, you need your strength.”

>Even with the little you ingested you can feel the tingle as its corruption spreads through you.

>But you prepared for this, just in case.

>You grab hold of the liquid within, focusing your mind and gradually clearing the infection from you.

>With a final push you spew the last of your contents from your gullet, the floor layered with your conquest.

>”How wasteful, blood doesn’t grow on trees you know… actually…”

>That… simpleton. The nerve! He’s lucky you acted as quick as you did.

 

>You grab him by the collar, the fucker just grinning happily.

“Do you think this is a motherfucking game? Have you any idea what you almost did?”

>”Yes,” He answers plainly, “Do you?”

>You pull back your fist to hit him. “I don’t think so,” a voice whispers in your head.

“No, you don’t win that easily.”

>”I think I just did,” he replies, lips unwavering.

>Even with all your strength your arm refuses to budge, your body seemingly locked into place.

>He carefully removes your hold on him and speaks, “I had hoped you’d be more understanding, seems I was wrong.”

“Can say that again.”

>His eyes flare with anger, the first time you’ve seen him like this.

>”I gave you a second chance, you damn well show me respect.”

“Fuck you.”

 

>A flash of pain washes over your fast as he rubs his fist, “You may have been some great man where you came from, but here-“

>He comes in with his left, “You’re just another dog you little bitch.”

>Your hand meets his own as he comes in again, “Wha-“

>Freeing yourself from his paralysis you throw his fist back.

“This dog has teeth.”

>He’s even stronger than you originally thought, a shame such power was wasted on his feeble soul.

>You know you can’t beat him in one-on-one combat, not without leaving either your body or mind open to his assault.

“Show me the right place to use them.”

>He blinks in confusion, “You’re not angry?”

“I know better than to let my emotions get the better of me.”

>You wipe the blood off your chin, the smell tantalizingly sweet, a façade to its devastating nature.

 

“So why’d you ask me here? Business or pleasure?”

>”I can’t just hang out with another person?”

>He looks to the floor, “Let’s take a walk so this place can be tidied up.”

>You follow his lead, walking out into the courtyard.

>A row of surly midgets in robes walk about in the courtyard along with all manners of foreign beings.

“I’ve never seen creatures like these before. I’ve been gone a long time it would seem.”

>”They aren’t native to this land. Anyone with a gaming console would recognize at least half of these guys.”

“Consoles… Far too long.”

>”Did they have consoles in your time?”

“Of course, but you guys must have flying cars and virtual reality shit by now.”

>He chuckles, “Don’t get your hopes up.”

 

>”I’ve brought them here in hopes of replacing the, less than formidable p0ny brigades at my disposal.”

“They’re certainly nothing extraordinary.”

>”And under normal circumstances I wouldn’t have to resort to such measures.”

“Is the threat you’re facing that great?”

>”Nothing I couldn’t handle myself, but I am a lazy man. Besides, I have something extra special up my sleeve.”

“Speaking of the opposition, you haven’t told me who I’ll be fighting.”

>”Minotaurs, griffons, the works.”

>At last, enemies worthy of fighting. Prison inmates don’t make very good game.

>”You won’t be fighting any of them of course.”

“Don’t fuck with me.”

>”I have a special assignment for you, a precautionary measure in case things go south.”

“I’m listening.”

>”You will be my bodyguard.”

 

“Bullshit.”

>”I can handle myself against any threat thrown at me, but recent events have led me to reevaluate that claim.”

>Interesting. He may not say it, but there’s an underlying fear in his voice.

“Who leads this band against you?”

>His grin is fatigued, a sliver of his humanity shining through, “My brother.”

“A family feud is it?”

>”He’s grown stronger than I estimated and has only continued to accumulate power.”

“So you want me to shadow you, and in the case that he gets the upper hand…”

>”I want you to drive your sword through his heart.”

>The light fades, the blackness of his soul complete.

“You can’t make me do what you ask. You aren’t thinking clearly.”

>”When the cards are down you have to make a choice. Life? Or Death?

 

>”You don’t have to make your decision now. Sleep on it. Roll around with it.”

“Where will you be?”

>He points to a tower back at the castle, “Where an old tyrant falls, another will rise.”

“You could’ve just said there.”

>”But that’s just sooo boring.”

>You can’t help but crack a smile.

“I’ll be there.”

>”Don’t disappoint me.”

>You nod your head respectfully and walk back into the castle.

>”Today is the eve of a golden age Mr. Anon!” he shouts after you.

>”And tomorrow all eyes will fall to Canterlot, watching the birth of this new age.”

>You nod and walk back into the castle, leaving him to his idiotic ramblings.

>The day is young, but even still you find yourself overcome by an unnatural drowsiness.

>A grumbling rolls from your stomach.

>Time for bed.

 

>You clench your side as you make your way back through the halls of Canterlot.

>The guards give you a few glances but stay at their post.

>You’ve felt the craving before, but never like this.

>Every p0ny you pass is a feast, their very being a buffet for you to feast upon.

>It wouldn’t take much. You can almost feel your teeth sinking into-

>No! You’re not a monster. You will overcome this. You’ve come too far to fall now.

>Unsheathing your blade slightly you shove the palm of your hand along the blade.

>It stings, but there are things much worse than a little cut.

>This time you’ve earned a few long stares from those around you.

“Got something to say?”

>They look forward in response.

“That’s what I thought.”

>You press the cut to your lips, your own flesh safe for consumption.

 

>”Ghastly!”

>You stop at your door and glare down the hallway at the white unicorn on approach.

>”What do you think you’re doing walking around like that? A filly dresses better!”

“Piss off.”

>The unicorn follows as you walk inside, shutting the door behind her.

“Are you deaf? I said go away.”

>”And just what are you, blind? I cannot allow such a disaster be walking around.”

>Calm yourself Anon, retain control. You suckle at your palm, kicking off your shoes.

>”My word, what did you do to your hand!?”

>She rushes to your side and tears your bleeding hand away.

>Your blood seeps slowly from your wound, the blackish ooze a frightening sight.

>Her mouth widens to speak but only to remain silent.

>She releases you from her grip and allows you to bandage the cut.

“I think it would be best for you to leave now.”

 

>She shakes her head, “I had heard you were… different, but not like this.”

“Look, miss-

>”Rarity.”

“Rarity. I’m tired, I just want to go to sleep. I’m sure that’s something you can appreciate.”

>”Fashion waits for no one. Not even the- the umm- people like you.”

“You want to make yourself useful? My closet’s right over there.”

>You strip off your clothing and put them on the nightstand.

‘You look like a mare who can work a set of clothes. Tailoring my old clothing should be no problem.”

>”It’s not that easy, there are so many measurements to take into account…”

“These should work,” you reply pointing to the nightstand.

>”I didn’t catch your name,” she says as you slip into bed.

“Anon. Goodnight Rarity.”

 

>You find yourself standing in the entrance of a tunnel, darkness looming before you.

“Hello?” you shout, your voice echoing through the passageway.

>No response. You look around at the nearby tundra, broken sediment beneath your feet.

>You’ve been here before, the stiffness of the air, the ever-present silence. It’s all too familiar.

>Most people would be intimidated by the black void before them. Likely a fear of the unknown.

>But you know what lurks beneath the shadows of the mountain.

>You know of the evil that waits behind every corner.

>It is not the unknown, it is the misunderstood.

>They lurk because they cannot shine in the sun.

>Their only evil doing is that they wish to survive.

>You step out into the darkness, back home.

 

>A thunderous roar pounds your ears, spiraling you back into the realm of the living.

>You roll out of bed, hitting the cold floor as your room visibly shakes.

>Screams cut through the air as you clamor to your feet.

>How long have you been asleep? Could you have slept for that long?

>You pick up your sword and rush to the door, naked except for your boxers.

>A note is pinned inside, “I started work on your clothes, but they may not be done by the time you wake up.”

>She obviously didn’t expect for you to sleep for that fucking long.

>”My room is on the north side of the castle. It’s not hard to find. With love, Rarity.”

>You sigh, slipping your shoes on as another tremor rocks the castle walls.

>Guards and other creatures rush past the door as you peek it open.

>As the surge passes you slip out into the hallway, your body exposed to the world.

>Gotta find Rarity’s room in a jiffy.

 

>You scamper alongside the wall, keeping your eyes peeled for anyone nearby.

>The sword in your hand stays tight to your chest, always at the ready.

>You peek around the corner, looks clear. But that’s just looks.

>One of the metallic p0ny creatures darts down the hallway beside the shattered windows.

>With a single shriek the creature disappears from view, a pair of talons sweeping in and dragging him away.

>Sneaky bastards. Shame that they revealed their position.

>You step into the hallway, eyes trained on the windows.

“That’s right, hear your prey as it walks into your trap. I’m just another target, nothing more.”

>You toss your sword into the shattered glass, the crunch signaling the attack.

>The griffon shrieks as it grasps at air.

“Gotcha.”

 

>You grab onto his arm and pull him inside, putting him on the defensive.

>He squawks in terror at his predicament, yelping for the help of his fellows.

“No one’s coming for you.”

>You paralyze him with a swipe of your hand and bring your foot crashing down upon his neck.

>He twitches weakly as you pull your foot away, his motions ceasing slowly.

>You pull your sword back to your hand and go on your way, another shriek piercing the air.

>Backup.

>You spin to your right, sword slicing open the oncoming griffon’s belly.

>He crumples to the floor as his kin pounces behind him.

>This is too easy.

>You throw the corpse straight into him, knocking him unconscious in turn.

>They’re green, inexperienced. They shouldn’t have neglected their training.

>Not like that would’ve helped them.

 

>You’re wasting time though. The sooner you put on some clothes the sooner you can reach Anonymous.

>You sprint along the northern end of the castle, scanning the doors for some kind of hint.

>Most of the doors are withered, wood chipping away, but one stands out.

>The door’s coated with a fresh layer of paint and seems to be in better overall condition than the others.

>The scent of perfume is almost pungent in its intensity, allowing you to piece that this is in fact Rarity’s chambers.

>Well, that and the giant sign above the door stating, ‘Rarity’s Bedchambers.’

>How could anyone miss this?

>You look around for anymore intruders. It’s safe enough.

>Twisting the handle you walk into her room.

 

“Rarity? You here?”

>Spools of cloth layer the floor, mannequins lining the walls.

>You look down to the floor, your prison clothes in shambles.

>Don’t worry Anon, she wouldn’t destroy the only set of clothes you had if she didn’t have another pair ready.

>At least you hope.

>You find the entirety of your closet here and there. Some are actually close to completion while others… May they know peace.

>They’re definitely rough drafts, and they still need some more work before you could actually wear them.

>It would only take a couple minutes for Rarity to come spruce them up for you, but she’s not here.

>You sit down on the bed which is a good deal fluffier than your own. She is a woman after all.

>All you wanted was a set of clothes that fit…

 

>Looks like you’re out of options here Anon ‘ol pal.

>You start picking up what you can out of the chaos, classifying what’s wearable and what’s unsalvageable.

>You look at yourself in the mirror, the clothes looking strange on you.

>But that’s when you see it, to the left of your reflection sits a small box, a piece you seem to have missed in your search.

>You move over to it, picking up the letter attached to it.

>”Dear Anon, if you’re reading this then slap yourself for going into a lady’s room without permission.”

 >Clever girl.

>”I only got one pair of clothes ready before I was called away for battle, such a shame. It should fit with a small amount of wiggle room, but I couldn’t seem to get that awful stain from those pants of yours. With love, Rarity.”

 

>You never could get that streak out.

>Opening the box you whisk out your old clothes, the texture of silk long forgotten by your hand.

>You practically jump back into your jeans and throw on your shirt, buttoning the front like days long past.

>Fits like a glove, you’ll have to thank Rarity for her handiwork, or would it be hoofdiwork?

>It doesn’t matter, what does, is that you’re back on track.

>You tie your sheathe onto your jeans and rest your sword within it.

>The tower should be nearby, once there you can finally put all this behind you.

>You clench your fist, a tinge of pain remaining in your wound.

“I will be whole again.”

 

>You waste no time in running through the halls towards the tower.

>The battle outside is in full swing, both forces devastating the other.

>How many cells are going to be filled after this is said and done?

>The warden’s going to have a lot of work on his hands.

>”Memory tells me that the entrance should be just down the hall,” a voice echoes down the hall.

>You duck to the floor, a small entourage of ponies walking across the hall ahead of you.

>“So I’m basically walking in his footsteps aren’t I?”

>It’s him, Anonymous’s brother. He’s definitely more intimidating than Anonymous is, but that’s just on appearance.

>You know that he’s far more powerful than he appears.

>”In a way, but this time he’s the one we’re after, the purple unicorn replies ahead of him.

>“Let’s get this over with. The troops below need a boost.”

>He doesn’t want this; you can sense it in his voice. He’s not some douche fighting for power.

 

>Shame he has to be in your way.

>You creep behind the group, concealing your presence.

>They enter the base of a staircase and being to ascend, the human taking the lead.

>You sprint silently to the door, listening as they continue to rise.

>You’ll have to wait for them to get further up before you follow, lest you give away your position.

>”Hey Anon!”

>Shit! Did they hear? No, thank Celestia for that.

>”What the hay are you doing? I thought we were meeting up in the throne room?”

>You turn to meet the mysterious voice, a minotaur walking over to you.

>”You ok Ano- Wait a minute…”

>So his name is Anon too? How interesting.

>The minotaur readies his flail, “You’re not him!”

“Good job Sherlock.”

 

>The minotaur comes in quick and light on his hooves, his flail swiping where your head used to be.

>You push him into the wall with your hand, your movements vastly superior to a minotaur, even one as trained as he.

>”Who are you?”

>You dodge his next swipe and plant your hand around his neck, to which he does in return.

>He squeezes your windpipe with his iron grip, but loosens when you smile back at him.

>”Impossible.”

>You head butt his snout and deliver a punch to his mail-protected belly.

“Just improbable.”

>You kick him back into the wall, the minotaur rebounding with impressive speed.

>You finally unsheathe your sword, focusing on the blade as it begins to glow.

>Let the heat of the sun grace my blade so that I may strike down my foes.

 

>You open your eyes and strike his weapon mid-strike, slicing through the tempered steel like butter.

>The ball comes crashing to the floor, the minotaur unwilling to surrender.

>He grabs your arm and kicks at your leg, missing obviously.

>Such a shame, he’s got skill.

>You twist your arm around until he’s locked in your armpit, and that’s when you begin.

>Your jabs strike hard against his armored form, bruising and fatiguing the strained minotaur.

>The more he struggles the quicker he finds himself cornered.

>Delivering one last series of jabs you pull back your molten blade and stab just below the chin.

>The effects are instantaneous.

>He falls into the corner, his strength failing to keep him on his hooves.

 

“You have my respect sir. It’s been an age since I was able to confront such an opponent.”

>His eyes glaze over as you retract the sword from his throat.

“I know how it feels to face the end before your time, but don’t fight it. Let go.”

>He attempts to rise, slumping further to the floor.

“There’s no shame in this, dying in battle. Honorable, if you’d call it that.”

>Your death was far less glamorous, lying on your bed, hand clenched to your chest.

“Let the shadows seep forward and take you home. Be free.”

>His body falls limp, his last breathe taken in this world.

“Find peace.”

>You swing open the door and start up the tower.

>Anonymous gave you a choice, a choice that you’ve made.

>And you chose life.