Title:           Queen of the Jungle [Complete]
Author:          Dracononymous
Pastebin link:   http://pastebin.com/iYVhgUBK
First Edit:      Wednesday 20th of January 2016 11:26:19 PM CDT
Last Edit:       Last edit on: Tuesday 8th of March 2016 08:48:12 PM CDT

>Enter Queen Chrysalis, ruler of Equestria.
>You've just overrun the small tribe--the only tribe--of rebel ponies, led by none other than Zeccora.
>After promptly eliminating her, you'd captured the rest of the ponies and had them tied up.
>That left but one being. Anonymous, by the names you heard shouted.
>He's an alien.
>Furthermore, in all the emotions you could feel in the camp, not one ounce of love was directed at him.
>He's useless as far as food goes, but perhaps you can still have some fun with him.
"Are you still here, Anonymous? There's no reason for us to take you prisoner. After all, nobody loves you."
 
>Anon just keeps looking at the fire blazing within the confines of its tiny little rock circle.
"Hello? I said nobody loves you."
>No response comes from him.
>No tears, no nothing.
>You at least wanted to see some hint of sadness on his face.
>You grunt and pull over one of the ponies you just captured.
"Why isn't he doing anything?"
>"He only moves in response to one word."
"What word is that?"
>"I-I don't know. Only Zeccora knows."
"Didn't I exterminate her?"
>The pony meekly nods.
"Shit. Well what's he supposed to do anyway?"
>"He kills."
>Suddenly, the man's head jerks up.
 
>The two of you slowly turn your heads to meet eyes.
>His stare, once blank and empty, now struck deep into your heart.
>It was cold, but hot at the same time.
>You could feel a burning hate so wild that it wasn't even directed at anything, and it was buried underneath a sheet of ice that seemed to separate him from the world and what he was about to do.
>The wrinkles forming on his face as it contorted turned him into a different man.
"It's 'kill', isn't it? The word is kill."
>With that, he grabs a rock from the fire circle and explodes off the ground, kicking up dirt behind him.
>He tears through the air, stepping right past you and to the changeling holding your captive.
>With a mighty swing, he buries the stone within your soldier's skull, causing it to go limp.
>Before it can even hit the ground, he grabs the sleek horn on its head and snaps it off, then makes his way for another changeling.
>Enough is enough, you decide, and with power of your own, fire off a burst of magic from your mangled piece.
>The hot energy singes the air as it approaches the wild man.
>Making contact with his back, it rips through his flesh and sends him tumbling onto the ground.
>The pony that was once at your side has tried to make a daring escape since her "release".
>You grab her in your aura and pull the mare over to yourself once again.
"What was that just now?"
>"I-I won't run away again! I swear! Please don't hurt me!"
"Answer me," you shout, emphasizing your point with a shake.
>"W-we found him in the jungle a few weeks after you took over Equestria. He was sitting next to some dead mare and went crazy when we asked if he killed her."
"And?"
>"A-and Zeccora managed to use some kind of magic to calm him down! We've been using him as a guard since then. He only ever answered to one word."
>You snarl and look over to his body.
>Well, you would if it was there, that is.
>...Hey wait a second.
 
>A rustle in the bushes.
>No, it's in the trees.
>You scan the area, finding one of your changelings gone.
>Two, three, four more.
"What have you done to him?" you ask with a hint of desperation in your voice.
>That magic bolt had enough power in it to take down a manticore.
>It should have ended him.
>What horror can drive a beast to walk after that?
>"I don't know. Zeccora said it was all very delicate. She said that whenever we needed a guard, that he would help us."
"A guard? You call this demon a guard?"
>"We just trusted her. She saved us from you. She saved us from the jungle. We figured everything she was doing was for the best."
>Anon, over sized with coagulate, explodes from the treeline.
>He holds a massive branch coated in gore and swings it into the bodies of your precious soldiers.
>Their shells are worthless against the force and shatter like glass.
>In the motion, he turns his back to you.
>You can see the burns. They're puffy, angry, and dripping with blood.
"How do I stop it?"
>"Why would I tell you?" the mare asks, more confident now.
"Because I'll make sure to kill you before it kills me!"
>Eight, nine, ten.
>Your forces are dwindling.
>Try as they might, the monster seems unaffected by their attacks.
>The magic rips through it again and again, but the rabid beast presses on.
>Its body, underneath the heaps of blood not its own, is covered in cuts and burns.
>You can feel the emotions emanating from it. They're angry and hateful.
>Such bitterness that it almost brings you down yourself.
>Yet under all of it...you can feel something else.
>It tastes salty, sort of like sadness.
>The man possessed...he is suffering.
 
"Answer me, girl," you growl.
>The mare shakes her head.
>"I don't know. I really don't. Zeccora never shared any of that with us."
"You're lying to me."
>"I'm not, I swear!"
>You're getting nowhere with her.
>Judging by how fast your army is dropping, it's best to cut your losses.
>With a twitch of your magic, her head twists around and snaps.
>Great sadness.
>You need to work with that. Somehow.
>A way to appeal to the man inside him, maybe?
>What kind of magic did Zeccora use on him?
>It's a potion for sure, but you're just not sure what kind of dark magics could do this to someone.
>What horrors could bury a personality so deep underneath such intense hatred and rage.
>Perhaps...it'd be best to just go.
>Perhaps you could--
>Anon charges up to you, hands balled up into fists, and swings at you.
>You step back just in time.
>The two of you dance. Swing, step. Swing, step. Swing, step.
>Eventually, your flank is to a tree and there's nowhere to go but up.
>With a flutter of your wings, you take to the air and soar right over his head as he smashes his fist hard against the trunk.
>What sound echoes from his hand resembles snapping twigs.
>Anon howls in a mix of pain and anger.
>He sinks to his knees, for the first time since that fateful word was spoken.
>This is your chance--while he's not obsessed with bludgeoning you with those ghastly appendages of his!
"Anon, I know you're hurting inside. You need to stop this. Stop and I can help you."
 
>The man gets up off the ground and runs at you again.
>His punches are slower and sloppier, likely attributed to his only using one arm.
"Whatever Zeccora did to you, I can undo. I just need time. I need you to stop this."
>His eyes grow wilder as you talk.
>The remains of your army close in behind him, but you order them to stop.
>The man is hurt, but you're not going to risk any more of your children.
"I can feel it inside you. I can feel the hurt. I know you want to get out. I know you don't want to be this monster!"
>"Shut up," he shouts at the top of his lungs.
>His voice is hoarse from disuse for so long.
>The shock causes you to misstep and fall right into a punch.
>It sends you reeling, almost knocking you over.
>"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Talking! Talking! Always talking! You and her! Them! Nobody shuts up!"
>With both his hands so injured, he begins to kick at you.
>"Shut up! Die! Die! Die! Die! Leave me alone!"
>"Three years in this camp! Three years a slave!"
>"Nobody leaves me alone!"
"I can help you," you plea.
>"No! Nobody can help! She did it! She did this! She made me this! Nobody can help!"
"What did she do? Tell me!"
>He charges, slamming his body against your own and knocking you onto the ground.
>The distance between you closes in an instant, followed by a flurry of elbows and shoulders.
>"No more potions! No more magic!"
>"No more talking!"
>Now you could use some help.
>Yes, changelings. Consider that an order.
>After what seems like an eternity, the blows stop coming.
>Something warm drips onto your chest. For a second, you mistake it for urine.
>Slowly and fearfully, you open your eyes.
 
>There's a sharp stick inches from your eyes, coated in blood.
>Anon falls off you, leaving a trail from your chest to his resting spot.
>The branch from earlier is lodged within him, sticking into his back and protruding through his gut.
>The anger fades from his face and is replaced with something resembling relaxation.
>All the bitterness from his emotions disappears.
>Even the salty sadness vanishes as well.
>What's left is something sweeter.
>Not so much love as it is...happiness. Content.
>"It's so quiet," he mutters.
>Your soldiers close in on him, horns glowing.
>You stop them before they can attack.
>"I can finally hear myself think."
>His eyes travel up to meet yours.
>They lack any fire they once had.
>They're weak, almost. Light seems to leave them as fast as his blood does.
>"Thank you."
>His voice is less than a whisper.
>With that, his eyes close and he goes limp in the dirt.
>That was...an experience.
>You look around the scene. Dead changelings litter the area.
>The few ponies who hadn't escaped their bindings sit huddled together with fear painted on their faces.
>Speaking of faces, boy does yours hurt.
>That Anon can sure hit...
>You don't know what happened to him.
>Quite frankly, you hope you never will.
>Whatever that cursed zebra did to make him like this...it should never happen again.
>Nothing deserves to live like that.
>To have every moment filled with anger.
>To have every thought crushed by the weight of their hate.
>To be locked in a cage of their own body, doomed to kill on another's order.
>You'll remember Anon.
>Somebody has to.