Pastebin launched a little side project called HostCabi.net, check it out ;-)Don't like ads? PRO users don't see any ads ;-)

Untitled4 sec ago
Untitled8 sec ago
FACEBOOK SCRIPT9 sec ago
Untitled13 sec ago
Untitled13 sec ago
Untitled13 sec ago
Untitled16 sec ago
UntitledPHP | 18 sec ago

Tracy is Best Mom: Part 2

By: Skeptic_Writefag on Feb 11th, 2014 | syntax: None | size: 41.56 KB | hits: 67 | expires: Never

download | raw | embed | report abuse | print

Text below is selected. Please press Ctrl+C to copy to your clipboard. (⌘+C on Mac)

>You are young Anon once more and you are a very sore and confused child.
>You were just so certain that you were doing a good job when it came to your assignments with your new mom, Tracy (or Ms. Cage when she’s teaching), but unfortunately, her grading is almost as cruel as her treatment of you;
>No matter how well you felt you were doing on your anatomy homework, she always seemed to hold you back on that same chapter every night for the past week.
>Was there something you were doing wrong? Surely not, because she would always give you a decent grade at the end when you asked how you did, almost dismissively.
>You are Anon, the 13 year old adopted child of Tracy Cage, and you love your mom no matter how much her tough love hurts some times.
>You know with every curse and swear she sends your way; she would always show you how much she loved you 10 times more.
>She treated you like crap because she cared, and kept you from becoming a spoiled brat, not to mention it made you treasure the moments of compassion she –did- rarely exhibit.
>She yelled at you every day over nonsense because she wants you to be perfect, and so do you.
>She hits you sometimes because for every bruise you suffer, you learn from your mistakes, and even grow a little stronger!
> You know this is had to be true, because she told you so herself. Momma never lies. You trust her 100%.
>It wasn’t always so easy to take though. You were skeptical at first, but momma beat that right out of you. Who were you to call your own mother a dirty liar? Nobody, that’s who.
>Every day you spent under her roof was a day to be thankful. You could end up a homeless human, or worse, you could be snatched up and end up as a “MISSING” poster out in the middle of town square like all those of colts and fillies that have been springing up recently.
>You felt bad for most of them, but you couldn’t help but crack a smile when you found out the bullies from your school had also ended up on that board. Who’da thunk it? Karma really does catch up to ya in the end!
>You’re not sure what happened to them, but you’re certain it was the work of bad ponies. That’s what Mother Tracy says anyway.
”… but it’s okay,” she tells you, when you’re scared in her arms, “Momma-Tracy will keep you safe from all the bad ponies, little Anon.” hooves tightening around your neck, seemingly lost in her own thoughts for a moment, “Even if Mommy has to carve them some new holes and f—“ and from then on, you knew you’d always love her, and take care of her too, for as long as you lived.
>As grateful as you were for all of that, you knew there was nothing you could do to show your appreciation for her protection from the monsters you kept hearing around the house recently.
>You couldn’t believe it the first time you thought it either, but there are –actual- monsters in the house, it seems!
>At first you figured it was just the house settling, but then you started hearing what sounded like voices.
>You reasoned with yourself that it was probably mom, doing whatever it is she does behind closed doors [spoiler]even if you really didn’t care to find out what that was[/spoiler], but then you started hearing the sounds coming from random places in the house. You even heard it coming from the A/C one day.
>Before you could even try to come up with another explanation, the incomprehensible mumbles formed words.
>”Downstairs.” It echoed through the ventilation ominously, “Come down..”
>Oh god why did they have to form words?
>You’d tried to get mom to hear the voices too, but all she did was yell back at you to shut up, until you finally mentioned that you heard it come from the vents. Then she deadpanned and threw you in her room, telling you to go read your dusty old books while she started getting the food for dinner ready.
>That’s mom; always worried about your health, even when you’d already eaten not 10 minutes prior.
>Ever-obedient, you sat yourself on her bed for what seemed like hours [spoiler]really though, it was about 20 minutes[/spoiler] going through a book from mom’s collection titled “Mane Kampf”. Most of it didn’t make any sense to you, but pretending to understand some of the words as you read over them several times gave you a sense of progression.
>Slowly, your eye-lids begin to droop a little, your head bobbing a few times as you come closer and closer to falling asleep from boredom, when you hear an ear piercing wail emanate from somewhere in the house.
>The sound was so sudden that it incites probably the fastest duck-and-cover under the bed maneuver since the Cold War back on Earth.
>You wait a few seconds, eyes shifting back and forth between the door and the closet. If any of those old movies taught you anything, is that the moment you try to open one door, another door will open and the monster gets you from behind. ‘Well, not this time,’ you think to yourself, ‘I’m not your average Anon!’ digging yourself in like a trench.
>Camping in one area may be cheap in video games, but it’s a legitimate strategy nonetheless. You’re just luck your psycho-mom keeps knives literally –everywhere- in the house.
>A few minutes of waiting for something to happen pass by uneventfully, almost to your dismay. You were really looking forward to bayonetting what was probably a ghost with sharp objects attached to even more sharp objects.
>Your 13 years of living have gifted you with much experience and wisdom, but unfortunately it did nothing for you in terms of patience. Squirming in prone position, you crawl your way out of your bed-bunker, commando style. And hold your knife-blade-spear at attention, poised at the door as you slowly approach it.
>Creeping forward inch by inch, the tenseness of moment shoots through the roof as the door opens a pinch with a low groan.
>This is it.
“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!” You roar your fierce war cry, charging forward blindly the moment the door open enough.
*SHNK*
>Your eyes and teeth clenched, the spear makes contact and abruptly stops.
>A moment passes by and you slowly peek out one eye to see what you’ve struck, expression slowly becoming one of a surprise and revelation as you stare eye-to-eye at the pale blue mare in the doorway, carrying a now penetrated box.
>”Wow. Got to say, I’m almost impressed with how close you came there, squirt.“
"M-mom?"
"What, you've already forgot who your own mother is? I was gone for 30 minutes, at most." She asks with a tone of bitterness, as she turns around and starts walking towards the front door.
"N-no, I jus.. I got surprised, an-and I almost hurt you, and I'm so so so so sorry!"
>She groans, "Christ, did you become a pussy again too? Seriously? Close your mouth for, like, 2 minutes. Shit."
>The door opens to a bright and sunny day outside, with the birds chirping and the trees swaying in the wind.
>You stick one leg out to walk through the door, only to have it smashed between it and the frame.
"AH!! Mom, that really hurt!"
>"Stay. Just stay. You can go out later." she replies, hefting the box and keeping it balanced on her back. "I need to do my gardening. You know how I need my privacy while I do my gardening."
>You did. She never let you come out around back while she was working in her 'garden', if you could call it that.
>It only had 1 tree and several tents with potted plants.
"But Mooooooom, why can't I go to the market? It’s the weekend and I want to go somewhere other than the house for once" You whine.
>She considers it, knowing you honestly stopped caring about her dumb garden and habit of secrecy when it became boring.
>"Fine, but if you leave you aren't allowed back home until... midnight, so you'll have to find something to do until then."
"YES!" You nearly jump for joy. Your mom is awesome. She lets you stay out as long as you want and you can do whatever you want too! You just wish you had some money to do things though.
>Making your way into town, you can't help but smile ear to ear at the colorful sights coming into view.
>You may have hated school, but boy did you love town. It had stalls for all your basic needs, a bakery shaped like an actual cupcake, a gigantic treehouse library, lovely meadow home petting zoo, and animal nursery.
>You really liked the pegasus there; she was super nice and treated all your injuries without a second thought.
>There was also a stage in front of town hall where the ponies would announce events and stuff!
>Hey there's a meeting going on now!
>You double time it over to the crowd of colorful equines and listen intently. You don't want to miss another town fair.
>There's an older mare, Mayor Mare specifically, at the podium shuffling papers and preparing to speak as all the others, start to get comfortable and find a place to sit.
"Everypony, settle down. I know you're all anxious to know why I've brought you here today, and I assure it is a matter of the utmost importance."
>The din of the audience simmers down and the mayor smiles softly.
>"Thank you. Now, as I'm sure many of you have been noticing, we've recently been losing a frightening number of our children at an alarming rate."
"THAT'S RIGHT. MY FILLY ROSE TUMBLE IS GONE AND I CAN'T FIND HER ANYWHERE!" A shrill cry rises from the crowd.
"MY BABY BITTER SHAFT WAS JUST PLAYING ON THE PLAYGROUND AND SUDDENLY DISAPPEARED WITHOUT A TRACE." another concerned mother sobs.
"WHERE IS MY LITTLE COLT"
"I WANT MY BABY BACK"
"WHAT COULD HAVE HAPPENED TO THEM??"
"What's going on?!"
"Maybe it's Timberwolves!!!"
>"Ponies, please! Settle down!" the increasingly distressed Mayor shouts, "I know we are all concerned for our young, but rabbling on all at once isn't going to clear this situation up any!
>You're starting to shake a little. The bad ponies got them, you think to yourself. It's such a blessing that you have a mother that cares so much about you.
>The mayor takes a step back from the podium's microphone as a familiar teacher steps forward.
>"Excuse me everypony. My name is Miss Cheerilee, as some of you have come to know me." she starts out shakily, "I have been a teacher to many of your children at the Ponyville Schoolhouse."
>You smile and wave erratically hoping maybe she'd see and recognize you. Turns out you missed some of these old faces after being taken away from them for so long.
>Sure enough she makes eye contact with you for a moment, giving a kind smile and a slight wave, before returning to what she was saying.
>"It is with a heavy heart that I find out several of my students have gone missing under my supervision when you entrusted me with their safety."
>More rabbling from the crowd before the Mayor settles them down again; a quick nod of approval to Miss Cheerilee to continue
“Now I realize that this makes it my responsibility for having lost them, and I accept that.” She says with watery eyes, “I… I love those little fillies and colts too. They’re my children as well in a way, and I will do whatever I can to find them.”
>Several ponies in the crowd looking to each other, murmuring amongst themselves, some nodding in agreement. Mayor Mare herself looks quite sad but gives a slow nod as well before casting her gaze to the stage floor.
“Then it’s agreed,” says Cheerilee, “I’ll be off right away until I can find those fillies and colts, don’t you worry everypony.”
>and with that the meeting is adjourned, the audience dispersing and heading back to their homes: all except for your old teacher, Miss Cheerilee, and Mayor Mare.
“Anon, please come up here if you would, I have something very important to ask you.”
>You make your way up to the stage and climb up nimbly, patting yourself down before standing astute with a small grin,
“Hi Miss Cheerilee! It’s so wonderful to see you again! How’ve you been? Sorry I never got to turn in the homework.” You apologize.
“That’s quite alright, Anon.” she smiles fondly, “You can turn that in some other day if you do end up coming back. I have to ask though, where have you been? I was worried sick to hear what happened to you.”
>Aww… she worried about you.
“Don’t worry Miss Cheerilee. Momma has been taking care of me while I’ve been gone.”
“Your... Momma? Anon, I thought you lived in the orphanage?” She inquired quizzically.
“Yeah! Miss Cage! Tracy! She took me in close to two weeks ago, and has been teaching me at home about Ana... Anat... umm...”
“Anatomy?” she finishes.
“Yeah that one!”
>With the shake of a head, she takes you by the hand and leads you down through town.
“Anon, I think it’s time we finally had that parent-teacher conference.”
>The two of you made your way across town, several eyes glued to every one of your moments.
>this is getting a little awkward for the two of you.
>It’s as though they expect the two of you to be at fault.
>Seemingly noticing this, Cheerilee turns to you with a smile and a small nuzzle on your cheek
“Don’t worry my little Anon. You’ll be okay. We’ll get all this sorted out, one way or another.”
>Her words are reassuring but you get a niggling of doubt in the back of your mind.
>Why do they think it’s Momma though?
>She’s a pretty cool guy. She fight monsters, keeps your safe, and doesn’t afraid of anything.
“Why my momma though?” you ask her quizzically.
>For a moment her faces crunches up, trying to come up with a good excuse for someone your age.
“Honey, we don’t think SHE took those poor ponies, but we do think maybe your mom can help us?”
>Yes, that’d be enough to fool Anon for now.
“Okay, but she’s a very quiet pony... Well, not quiet: she actually yells a lot. She doesn’t like talking to other ponies. She’s…”
“Shy?” she finishes for you.
“Yeah! Kind of.”
>With a slight scowl, Cheerilee picks up the pace, muttering a low “I doubt that.”
>You’re both on the outskirts of the town by now.
>There are a few ponies just now turning out the lights in their homes, heading off to sleep.
>Meanwhile you and Cheerilee stand outside your door ready to enter.
>Cheerilee takes a step to knock but you dive suddenly and hold her back giving a hoarse,
“Waiiiiiit!”
“What is it Anon??” she asks jumping back startled.
“What time is it?”
>She stares at your bewildered.
“Anon I realize she might be sleepy but these are pony’s lives we’re talking about here!”
“No no, you don’t understand! Mom said not to come back until midnight!”
>Cheerilee gives you another questioning look.
“You mean you have to be home BY midnight, correct?”
“No.” you answer simply.
>A silence blooms between you two. Cheerilee looks to the town, although dark, searching for the town clock tower.
> 11:05 PM
>She looks at you and then the door; her face becoming one of slight anger.
“I-it’s okay Miss Cheerilee. We can go back to town and get some late night ice cream from Pinkie!”
>She’s still shifting glances as you speak, clearly not enjoying this outcome.
“Anon, I’m sorry, but this is a pressing matter and we simply must go in.”
>her hoof reaches for the door once more.
“No, Cheerilee, no!”
>She hesitates for a moment, truly concerned for your outburst before you hear the voices again.
>The monsters are screaming at you and Cheerilee from below your feet.
>It’s at that point that she takes the initiative to mouth a silent apology before shoving you aside and throwing her weight into the door.
>You’re a bit dazed, having hit your head a little on the ground. Good thing the bush broke your fall.
>You get up and rub your head, searching frantically for your teacher but find no trace of her aside from the now wide open door to your home.
>You ground yourself and regain your balance, making your way inside cautiously, the screams from the monsters echoing from below once more
>You didn’t want this. You didn’t want your teacher to get hurt. You tried to stop her.
>It’s around this time that Tracy is usually taking care of the daily hauntings by the monsters.
>You stalk silently as you did your first night with her.
>Ninja Stealth Activated
“Ch-Cheerilee..?” you quietly whisper-call to her.
>Your whisper goes unheard and unanswered.
>Your stalking didn’t even need to go all that far as you came upon the living room, cracked coffee table and sugar all over the ground.
>The place looked like a mess.
>You’d pull your detective mode out, but it seems almost useless as your eyes come upon a frail quivering form on the ground.
“Miss... Cheerilee…? Is that you..?” You call out to her quietly again.
>You take a small step past the TV and creep closer to the pony on the ground
>The door slams behind you.
“Welcome home, Anon. I see you’ve brought a guest.”
>This is the end.
>This is the end and it's all your fault.
"Mom... why..?"
>Be a beaten and bruised Anon.
>You are in so much pain right now you can't even begin to describe it.
>You aren't talking about the physical aspect either. No, what you're most hurting in is your heart.
>There she stands; that pale blue horse with the coldest eyes, and colder steel.
>She stood on her hind legs, brandishing her butcher's choice of weaponry and approached, stepping over the teacher you held closest to your childhood.
"I never asked for this Anon. I never asked for a shitstain of a son like you."
>That was an outright lie, she adopted you didn't she?
"I never wanted to have to take care of some faggot who couldn't even use his spine as a fucking crutch if he tried." She spit angrily.
"I didn't even ask to have to feed the little shit who stuck his nose where it didn't belong."
>She now stood only a foot away, dropping down on all hooves, biting down onto the handle of her grisly weapon.
"Now I've got to worry about the whole fucking town on my ass looking for this bitch, and it's all your fucking fault."
>She takes a swipe at the air where your head had been, but being the nimble fucker you are, you back up just in time.
>You almost wish you hadn't. What kind of life is this where not even your own family wanted you?
>Where even Mom despised every fiber of your being
"I... I love you, mom... please don't..!"
>Another swipe, and you're backed up against the wall, cheek bleeding slightly.
>That one was far too close for comfort, and let you know, this wasn't just her being her usual angry self.
>this time, she actually wanted you gone.
>pinpricks for pupils gaze upon your cowering form, waiting for something. Anything.
>This gives you time to reflect on all the time you've had with her. With the school. With all these fucking horses in this world.
>You miss home on Earth, but that's never coming back.
>And then.. something in you snaps.
“Fuck you.” You curse under your breath.
>Her ears perk at this and her anger flares.
“WHAT. WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU SAY TO ME, YOU LITTLE BITCH?”
>You get up to your feet, her body not moving an inch as you get up. No going back now.
“I said, FUCK. YOU.” You scream those last words.
>This is it.
>The rebellious stage you never went through.
“I’m so SICK of your SHIT, Mom!” Your chest heaving as your breath heavily, nostrils flaring.
>She stays frozen in place, change never changing to tell you what other emotions she may feel aside from her anger.
“Every day I’ve spent in this house, I’ve dealt with you yelling and beating me, and making me feel like it’s all my fault, but I’m so.. SICK OFIT.” You start to choke up.
>Shit, no hold it together Anon, you need to show you’re strong.
“So FUCK YOU. I want to leave. I don’t care if I go live on the streets anymore, because it’s better than spending any more time here with you!! I HATE you. I hate you so much!”
>At that she flinches, and you can see her fore hooves begin to buckle slightly.
“I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN, YOU FUCKING WHORE.” You bellow, driving the nail in the coffin.
>The room echoes with how loud you shouted that. The monsters in the house going quiet as well. Cheerilee stirring from her nasty fall.
>Tracy Cage stands there, her eyes widening now, her angry demeanor draining into one of understanding. Almost. She finally speaks up.
“Go to bed, Anon.”
She takes a step closer. Hell no, you didn’t take a risk like that to be sent to your room like a child.
“No, Tracy, I-“
“Anon! GO. TO. BED.”
>Then you do something you thought you’d never do again.
>Your hand stings like white hot needles have pierced the flesh, as your recover from bringing your palm across your own mother’s face.
>You’re standing there, a look of horror spreading across your features, as you begin to grasp what you had just done.
>The knife falls from her hoof, and she looks at you with a face of mixed anger and disappointment.
>Before you know it, she’s on you, throttling you against the ground, banging your head against the carpeting roughly
>She’s gone berserk, screaming at the top of her lungs with a fury that Ares himself couldn’t match.
“I’LL TEACH YOU TO DISRESPECT ME, YOU LITTLE SHIT.” She foams at the mouth, unbridled rage infused with her strength.
“I’LL FUCKING SHOW YOU TO TOUCH ME LIKE THAT. I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU, ANON, AND YOU GET TO WATCH ME DO IT.”
>She holds you to it, as your eyes are forced open with fear and pain as you stare into her eyes.
>In that moment as you feel the very last of the air escaping your lungs, her eyes go wide. Wider than they had been. This time in surprise.
>Her eyes trail down your body.. No, they trail down her own, to something protruding from her gut, blood leaking onto you.
>Contrary to what you thought would happen, Mom.. No, Tracy, doesn't scream or screech and tear up at the fact one of her own knives are sticking through her.
>You can't even come to form coherent sentences with how shocked you are to see that blade slide up agonizingly slow, as her organs spill out onto you.
>I'm 13 and what is this?
>Your eyes widen, unsure of what to think.
>Was it a good thing that she's about to die?
>She's your mother! You not a minute ago, told her you loved her, and yet here you are, underneath the soon to be corpse of the mare that brought you back from a shitty life into one that taught you to stand up for yourself.
"Anon" you hear your mentor, the sane one that is, whisper to you hoarsely.
>You snap out of your shocked state only really moving your eyes to meet hers, as the blade retracts from the rapidly cooling body on top of you.
>You shove the late Tracy Cage off of you and do your damndest not to start bawling right on the spot, but Cheerilee knows better, and immediately takes a hold of you in her loving hooves, wrapping you in the warmest embrace you've had in a long time.
>The little orbs of salty water fall from your eyes in what seems like a torrential waterfall.
>You can't stop yourself now, crying loudly, wailing over so many things at once, emotions mixing and twirling in such a short time
>Cheerilee does what she can to slow down the tears, whispering condolences, words or encouragement, telling you things would be okay..
>How could she know that? Things were clearly not okay.
>Things were not going to be okay for a VERY long time
>As a developing teen, you may not even be aware of it, but this is clearly going to scar you for life.
"Is this the end, Miss Cheerliee?" You finally manage to utter.
"No, sweetie.. I don't know what will happen next, but this is definitely not the end for you."
>She stops to look at the body, still twitching a little, and instinctively holding you away from it so you can't see the macabre image.
"Anon, I know you've been through a lot today, but I still need you to help me here."
>How? What possible use could you be now?
>You're about to ask but are cut short by the sounds of the monsters from the depths of the house.
>Cheerilee hears it too, and looks you in the eye.
"We need to find out what it is making that noise, Anon."
>She at least gives you the courtesy of relaxing for a few more minutes the tenseness of this entire situation slowly ebbing away.
>The two of you finally got up and made your way to another room, Cheerilee trying her hoof at the locked door from your nightmare when you first arrived here.
"It won't work. It's locked."
"I can see that, Anon." She answers flatly with a slight hint of frustration.
>She's gritting her teeth and you're almost forced to look back at your feet.
>Why is it everything you do pisses ponies off?
>Noticing the terseness of her tone, she apologizes swiftly, winning little more than a modicum of a smile and a nod from you.
"So.. do you know where the key is?" she asks.
"Not really," you answer with a little disappointment, "I only had a dream of going in there. I never imagined actually having to go in and I really don't want to."
>Another wail shot through the house, echoing from within the ventilation again.
>this is when Cheerilee tells you to stay put and speeds off into Tracy's room.
>Normally you'd tell her to mind her privacy, but you're quickly reminded of the way she stared into your soul while her's quickly faded from her eyes on top of you.
>You really don't want to keep remember those eyes.
>After you hear some rummaging and groans of disgust come from the other room, that she returns
"Anon, do you trust me?"
"Well sure Miss Cheerilee, I tru--"
>'Anon, you trust mommy don't you?'
>OHHHHH, NOPE. NOPE, BAD MEMORIES GO AWAY.
>'Mommy will never hurt you.'
>STOP STOP STOP.
"STOP STOP STOP AHHHHH"
>and you're being shaken repeatedly
"Anon!" your teacher wakes you from your induced, traumatic memories, "ANON! SNAP OUT OF IT!"
>You look at her in bewilderment, apologizing profusely.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry it's just that.. Momma would always say that and.."
"I understand Anon, but you have to get a hold of yourself, and you have to do it now, because you're not going to like what I have to say next."
"YOU WANT ME TO WHAT?" You cry out
"I told you it was going to sound bad, Anon." she repeated.
>You can't believe she's even suggesting this. Go into the room? The nightmare room? Much less the vents?
"you're crazy!" You protest, albeit very childishly,
>Then again, you're 13 years old. You have every damn right to be a child about this.
"Anon, please! This could be the only way we can find and save the ponies that went missing!"
>You think long and hard about it, and you consider all the different options..
>Go? Or don't go?
>Let the ponies live? or Save yourself?
"Well Miss Cheerilee.. when you put it like that..." you trail off, "NOPE"
>You are about to take off in the opposite direction but are promptly tripped by an unamused school teacher.
>Tripped by an EXPERIENCED school teacher, and then dragged by the feet kicking and screaming bloody murder to a nearby vent as she stares at it wondering how she'll open it while holding on to you.
"Anon."
"NOOOO, I DON'T WANT TO GO, YOU CAN'T MAKE ME"
"Anoooon?"
"I'LL SUE YOU, I'LL CALL THE POLICE!"
"anon, stop, you're old enough to face your fears."
"I'M NOT GOING TO DIE IN THERE,"
"Anon!" She raises her voice
>maximum annoyance achieved.
"SHUT UP." She shouts.
>You finally stop and listen.
"What if.." she begins mulling thoughts over, "What if I took you in myself."
>This catches your attention.
"What if I took you in as my own. It'd be hard, but maybe I could finally teach you something worthwhile."
>Well. It's either that or go to the orphanage again..
>You shudder.
"Well okay, but I'm still sore from the last anatomy lesson Tracy taught me, and I don't want to have to learn yet another long lesson about a mare's pussy."
>the frankness of your tone catches her way off guard and she blushes beet red.
"Anon did your mother.. did your mother rape you?"
"What? She taught me how foals were made, like how they teach in school."
>She looks at you horrified at what she's hearing and her eyes well up with tears.
"Okay anon.." she sighs dejectedly, "We have a deal. No more anatomy lessons."
>With that you dust yourself off, and she gives a swift kick to the rusty grate of the ventilaton shaft.
>It pops off with ease and releases several puffs of dust and creepy crawlies.
>You almost turn 360 degrees and walk away at the sight of that, but another look at Cheerilee's worried features inspires bold new confidence.
>If there was anything you figured, was that you have to know how to take care of those around you.
>To face your fears.
"W-wish me luck."
>She doesn't say anything at first, but instead replies by wrapping you in yet another bear hug, before giving you a peck on the cheek.
"I believe in you, Anon. You don't need luck. You were, and always have been, my brightest student."
>You force back tears of happiness from that statement and adopt a fierce look of confidence, as you salute to her.
>You duck down and crawl headfirst into the vents not saying another word, and taking to the metal shafts commando style.
>You traverse this metallic and echoing plane alone and afraid, but you had to stay strong.
>"Stay the course" you tell yourself, hitting dead end after dead end.
>"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.." A wail erupts through the ventilation shafts.
"St-stay the course, stay the course, stay the course.." you mumble.
"Anon??" You hear a shrill voice from beyond the tight walls, "Are you okay?"
>Looks like you aren't alone after all. Her voice soothing you in this dark, dank environment.
"I'm okay, Cheerilee! I can't find the door though. I keep getting lost."
"No Anon, you aren't! You're really close! I'm actually standing right next to the locked door!"
>Oh! well that means..
>You look at the 3 way split you've come upon.
>Visualizing the house, you see a path leading to wear the vents would dip into the room.
>Perfect.
>You finally find the right path and come upon the grate, musty and moist.
"I think I found it!" You call out to her.
>No response.
"Cheerilee?" you sound off louder.
>Still nothing.
>Even the wails and screams simmered down to what sounded like groaning and whimpers.
>Staring into the abyss, you can't make out anything.
>It's now or never Anon.
>with a mighty kick, you shoot the grate a good 3 yards before it lands with a grating thud and the room is enveloped in silence once more.
"I liked it more when I at least heard the screams.."
>You hop down hesitantly, really unsure of wanting to go there, but realizing that you'd do nothing more than sit there doing idly.
>This was eerily similar to what you remember from your nightmare, which gives you the idea of mapping it out as you had before.
>Lets see.. if this wall was here.. and that column was there..
>You sidle your way through the dark, eyes taking their sweet time adjusting to the pitch black.
*thump*
>You're frozen.
>What the fuck was that.
>Shit shit fuck shit what was that?!
>You frantically look left and right, not realizing the futility of your search efforts, the dark looking all the same to you.
>Why didn't you think to bring a flashlight?? WHY?!
>Sidling faster you reach a corner as the sound of something worming its way to you draw near.
>It's right behind you, muttering and groaning.
>In the frantic sidling you forget to feel ahead and come face first into a stone wall.
Ow.
"unghh..." something sounds from right behind you. It's voice coarse, but feminine in nature.
>A wave of panic rushes over you and you kick behind you instinctively, hopping over whatever your foot connects with
>It lets out a pained yelp as you sprint into the dark, a string colliding with your face and making you stop.
"LIGHT! PLEASE BE LIGHT!"
>You tug at the string and are blinded for a moment as several lights around the room ignite at once, flooding the room in bright white color.
>You finally open your eyes, and almost wish you hadn't as your eyes meet with walls coated in splotches of an almost rustic red color.
>Several machines line these walls, some empty, others writhing with the lives of bound and gagged ponies.
>A few are blindfolded, but those that aren't struggle furiously against their bonds, desperately moaning and pleaing for their freedom.
"Hmph!!"
"MM!!"
"HRNHHh!"
>There are at least 7 of them attached to tables spreading their hooves apart, various patches of their coats are matted down in a mess.
>All of their eyes are covered in long since dried tears.
>Some look violated, quivering in place, others still unconscious or so you think. Aren't you quite the optimist?
"Who.. who are.. how..?"
>Your eyes lead you all around the room, several sacks lying here and there, some still moving.
>You meet with one that you kicked not too long ago, it's quivering making you very uncomfortable.
>You immediately approach one of the many tables and start undoing the several ropes and chains, only now taking note of all the various tools next to them.
>Among those tools you see a note. It's addressed to you.
“Hello Anon.” It starts out, you notice a little star next to your name and a subnote on the top right saying [spoiler]”If this ISN’T my little baby, fuck right the hell off.”[/spoiler].
>You shake your head and continue on, the bodies around you becoming restless.
“I’m assuming if you read this that you’ve killed me, or at least someone has, and you got snoopy trying to find the key to my ‘office’ up my ass.”
>Ew.
>You shake your head and continue.
>There were another two asterisks next to that sentence, and you follow the page to find the proper subnote to that, which reads, [spoiler]and if you found a way into her while I’m still alive, you better believe I’m going to strap you to one of these tables, and fuck you silly just like your little friends.[/spoiler]
>You tear your eyes from the note and look at some of the fillies, colts, stallions, and mares on the tables and realize that you do recognize one of them as the main bully from school.
“No idea how long it’ll take your monkey brain to understand any of this, but I don’t really care either. The reason I write this is because I have a last choice for you to make something of yourself rather than being such a pussy all the time. A way to take what’s rightfully yours, without letting the chance slip away again.”
>You look once more to the look of desperation in the colt’s eyes as you step up to his table.
“You hurt me a lot,” You tell him, a dark undertone making its place in your voice.
>Of course the gag in his mouth won’t let him say anything, but the whimpering is a good indication that he knows what’s coming.
>You’re understanding this chance Tracy has given you. She’s dead and gone, and the monsters she implanted in your head have since been disbanded.. or have they?
>memories of each day afterschool flood you as you look into the face of fear itself.
>This is no longer intimidating, and you’re the one in control now.
>It’s just one colt.
>One miserable piece of garbage that has hurt so many before you.
>You’re doing this land a favor.
>Yet in the midst of this thinking, a voice calls out to you.
“Anon? Are you okay in there? Anon??”
>A thumping is heard from behind, the door rattling a little.
>Cheerilee! What would she think of you if you did what you did.
>Then again, she might not know. He could have been like this before she came in
“I’M STILL TRYING TO FIND THE LIGHTS!” You call out to her, “EVERYTHING IS OKAY!”
>Lying to her stings inside, but you need some time.
>Picking up one of the tools, a scalpel, you trace an ‘X’ over his hyperventilating chest.
“You hurt me a lot, and so did your friends.” You tell him again, “I think maybe it’s your turn.”
>you draw a line down his forehoof, pressing down and making an incision all the way down.
>even with his gag, he makes quite a bit of noise howling in pain and tearing up.
>Looking down at his slit hooves, the blood leaking out in a slow dribble.
>Christ, he’s crying like a foal. You wonder if he’s hurting as much as you had been.
Nah.. probably not.
>You look to the set of tools and pick up a jar filled with what looks like salt.
>Popping the cap, you use your other hand to cut another few incisions along the abdomen before sprinkling the salt in lightly.
>His face contorts into an even tighter grimace as the pain shoots through his arm and his muffled screams continue.
>At first your anger at all the memories of him and his friends began to soothe you, slowly melting away, but now it became something else..
>Something of a sort of pleasure to hurting someone as they had done to you.
>Your mind was racing now. Where had all the other ponies been to help in your time of need?
>Why didn’t your friends try to help you after the bullies stopped hurting them?
>Why did you deserve all that pain?
>Lost in thought, you don’t even notice that the colt is seizing up and closing his eyes until the rattling of the table stops.
>The shock from all the pain had been too much for him.
>You frown and look at him longer before seeing his table is capable of moving around.
>You sneer wickedly and flip him upside down and brushing aside his tail to reveal his ass.
>It looked worse for wear, covered in cuts, and opened a little more widely indicating it’d be used.
>Tracy must have really went to town on him knowing he had been the one hurting you in school.
>Realizing all this you begin to think to yourself again,
“Am I really going to do this? He’s so young, maybe he didn’t know what he was doing.”
………………
>You raise your arm back and slam the half full jar of remaining salt into his puckered hole, and walk away
>Yup. Worth it.
>You turn the lights out and return back up the stairs, fiddling with the door, pressing close to it and saying , “I think I found it!”, as you pretend to fumble with the handle and open it, with a grin of accomplishment.
“Oh thank goodness!” She says, squeezing you tightly in relief, “I was so worried about you Anon!”
> she retreats from you in revulsion, and you fear that she might have noticed something you hadn’t.
>sweatingbullets.gif
“Celestia, what is that stench?!”
>You give a mental sigh of relief before answering her with a confused expression, “I-I don’t know..” you reply feigning a shakiness in your voice.
>She deadpans and takes a few steps down, blindly trailing her hooves on the wall as you had the first time you’d been down here.
“I can’t see anything!”
>Thoughts cross your mind of what you could do to her in this situation.
>You slap yourself.
>You meant to think “do to help” in this situation.
>Starting to not like where this new mindset is going. No way in hell you want to end up as terrible a pony/person as Tracy.
>You stumble your way towards the center of the room, and ‘accidentily’ hit yourself with the string for light again.
>You give it a quick tug, and the lights return once more, 2 of them burning out immediately.
>Cheerilee gives a quick “eep!” as the lights turn on in a flash and she’s forced to cover her eyes at first.
>Tension gnaws at you as you wait for her reaction to what she’s about to see next.
>She slowly opens one at a time, squinting until her eyes get used to it before suddenly shooting open in a mixture of revulsion, confusion, and disbelief.
>She mutters incoherently, unable to form the right words for what she’s thinking, taking in the sight of several hung, and strapped up ponies.
And then it happens.
>She screams with such a high intensity that you have to cover your ears to drown out a fraction of the sound, between her shrill wail and all the bodies beginning to writhe and moan in response.
>You rush to her side and hold her, trying to hide her eyes from the horrors of this basement and you keep her there, like the good son you’ve tried to be.
>You immediately lead her outside and let her catch her breath at the top of the stairs.
>Now it was your turn to comfort her.
>You did so taking the initiative to lead her out of the house and back into town, her sobbing and cries dragging the attention of the ponies previously sleeping.
>You want to take her back to her home.
>You want to comfort her and tell her it’ll be okay.
>You want to be there for her and take care of her so that she may forget the horrors that befell all those missing ponies.
>She insisted however, through her tears, that you make a beeline straight to the station, and you obliged.
>The authorities upon hearing your story were incredibly skeptical, but became otherwise convinced when Miss Cheerilee stepped in full of rage, shaking one of the officials and pleading your case.
>After having restrained the panicked mare before she was to be taken away to the crazy-house, you beg them to believe you, and send a group of police ponies up to the house.
>Sure enough you could tell they found what they were looking for the moment they stepped through the door of the station with a look of franticness and horror.
>In the end, everything was taken care of.
>You and Cheerilee were questioned tirelessly by several of these ponies, but eventually got off scotch free, commended for having taken care of the menace that haunted Ponyville.
>Cheerilee kept her end of the bargain keeping you in her modest home.
>It wasn’t much, but it was much better than living with Tracy or in the orphanage.
>She treated you right, and kept you healthy and educated.
>She was, for lack of a better term, just like a mother to you.
>You only suffered minor bouts of PTSD at seemingly random intervals through the time you spent with her, but with time, those too had become far and few in between.
>It all worked out better than expected.
>You are Anon, and you couldn’t be happier.
-Fin-

create a new version of this paste RAW Paste Data

>You are young Anon once more and you are a very sore and confused child.
>You were just so certain that you were doing a good job when it came to your assignments with your new mom, Tracy (or Ms. Cage when she’s teaching), but unfortunately, her grading is almost as cruel as her treatment of you; 
>No matter how well you felt you were doing on your anatomy homework, she always seemed to hold you back on that same chapter every night for the past week. 
>Was there something you were doing wrong? Surely not, because she would always give you a decent grade at the end when you asked how you did, almost dismissively. 

>You are Anon, the 13 year old adopted child of Tracy Cage, and you love your mom no matter how much her tough love hurts some times.
>You know with every curse and swear she sends your way; she would always show you how much she loved you 10 times more. 
>She treated you like crap because she cared, and kept you from becoming a spoiled brat, not to mention it made you treasure the moments of compassion she –did- rarely exhibit. 
>She yelled at you every day over nonsense because she wants you to be perfect, and so do you.
>She hits you sometimes because for every bruise you suffer, you learn from your mistakes, and even grow a little stronger!
> You know this is had to be true, because she told you so herself. Momma never lies. You trust her 100%.
>It wasn’t always so easy to take though. You were skeptical at first, but momma beat that right out of you. Who were you to call your own mother a dirty liar? Nobody, that’s who.
>Every day you spent under her roof was a day to be thankful. You could end up a homeless human, or worse, you could be snatched up and end up as a “MISSING” poster out in the middle of town square like all those of colts and fillies that have been springing up recently. 
>You felt bad for most of them, but you couldn’t help but crack a smile when you found out the bullies from your school had also ended up on that board. Who’da thunk it? Karma really does catch up to ya in the end! 
>You’re not sure what happened to them, but you’re certain it was the work of bad ponies. That’s what Mother Tracy says anyway. 
”… but it’s okay,” she tells you, when you’re scared in her arms, “Momma-Tracy will keep you safe from all the bad ponies, little Anon.” hooves tightening around your neck, seemingly lost in her own thoughts for a moment, “Even if Mommy has to carve them some new holes and f—“  and from then on, you knew you’d always love her, and take care of her too, for as long as you lived. 

>As grateful as you were for all of that, you knew there was nothing you could do to show your appreciation for her protection from the monsters you kept hearing around the house recently. 
>You couldn’t believe it the first time you thought it either, but there are –actual- monsters in the house, it seems!
>At first you figured it was just the house settling, but then you started hearing what sounded like voices. 
>You reasoned with yourself that it was probably mom, doing whatever it is she does behind closed doors [spoiler]even if you really didn’t care to find out what that was[/spoiler], but then you started hearing the sounds coming from random places in the house. You even heard it coming from the A/C one day.
>Before you could even try to come up with another explanation, the incomprehensible mumbles formed words. 
>”Downstairs.” It echoed through the ventilation ominously, “Come down..” 
>Oh god why did they have to form words?
>You’d tried to get mom to hear the voices too, but all she did was yell back at you to shut up, until you finally mentioned that you heard it come from the vents. Then she deadpanned and threw you in her room, telling you to go read your dusty old books while she started getting the food for dinner ready.
>That’s mom; always worried about your health, even when you’d already eaten not 10 minutes prior.
>Ever-obedient, you sat yourself on her bed for what seemed like hours [spoiler]really though, it was about 20 minutes[/spoiler] going through a book from mom’s collection titled “Mane Kampf”. Most of it didn’t make any sense to you, but pretending to understand some of the words as you read over them several times gave you a sense of progression. 
>Slowly, your eye-lids begin to droop a little, your head bobbing a few times as you come closer and closer to falling asleep from boredom, when you hear an ear piercing wail emanate from somewhere in the house. 
>The sound was so sudden that it incites probably the fastest duck-and-cover under the bed maneuver since the Cold War back on Earth.
>You wait a few seconds, eyes shifting back and forth between the door and the closet. If any of those old movies taught you anything, is that the moment you try to open one door, another door will open and the monster gets you from behind. ‘Well, not this time,’ you think to yourself, ‘I’m not your average Anon!’ digging yourself in like a trench.
>Camping in one area may be cheap in video games, but it’s a legitimate strategy nonetheless. You’re just luck your psycho-mom keeps knives literally –everywhere- in the house. 
>A few minutes of waiting for something to happen pass by uneventfully, almost to your dismay. You were really looking forward to bayonetting what was probably a ghost with sharp objects attached to even more sharp objects. 
>Your 13 years of living have gifted you with much experience and wisdom, but unfortunately it did nothing for you in terms of patience. Squirming in prone position, you crawl your way out of your bed-bunker, commando style. And hold your knife-blade-spear at attention, poised at the door as you slowly approach it. 
>Creeping forward inch by inch, the tenseness of moment shoots through the roof as the door opens a pinch with a low groan.
>This is it. 
“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!” You roar your fierce war cry, charging forward blindly the moment the door open enough.
*SHNK*
>Your eyes and teeth clenched, the spear makes contact and abruptly stops. 
>A moment passes by and you slowly peek out one eye to see what you’ve struck, expression slowly becoming one of a surprise and revelation as you stare eye-to-eye at the pale blue mare in the doorway, carrying a now penetrated box.
>”Wow. Got to say, I’m almost impressed with how close you came there, squirt.“

"M-mom?" 
"What, you've already forgot who your own mother is? I was gone for 30 minutes, at most." She asks with a tone of bitterness, as she turns around and starts walking towards the front door.
"N-no, I jus.. I got surprised, an-and I almost hurt you, and I'm so so so so sorry!"
>She groans, "Christ, did you become a pussy again too? Seriously? Close your mouth for, like, 2 minutes. Shit."
>The door opens to a bright and sunny day outside, with the birds chirping and the trees swaying in the wind. 
>You stick one leg out to walk through the door, only to have it smashed between it and the frame. 
"AH!! Mom, that really hurt!"
>"Stay. Just stay. You can go out later." she replies, hefting the box and keeping it balanced on her back. "I need to do my gardening. You know how I need my privacy while I do my gardening." 

>You did. She never let you come out around back while she was working in her 'garden', if you could call it that.
>It only had 1 tree and several tents with potted plants.

"But Mooooooom, why can't I go to the market? It’s the weekend and I want to go somewhere other than the house for once" You whine.

>She considers it, knowing you honestly stopped caring about her dumb garden and habit of secrecy when it became boring. 

>"Fine, but if you leave you aren't allowed back home until... midnight, so you'll have to find something to do until then."

"YES!" You nearly jump for joy. Your mom is awesome. She lets you stay out as long as you want and you can do whatever you want too! You just wish you had some money to do things though.
>Making your way into town, you can't help but smile ear to ear at the colorful sights coming into view. 
>You may have hated school, but boy did you love town. It had stalls for all your basic needs, a bakery shaped like an actual cupcake, a gigantic treehouse library, lovely meadow home petting zoo, and animal nursery. 
>You really liked the pegasus there; she was super nice and treated all your injuries without a second thought.
>There was also a stage in front of town hall where the ponies would announce events and stuff!
>Hey there's a meeting going on now!
>You double time it over to the crowd of colorful equines and listen intently. You don't want to miss another town fair. 
>There's an older mare, Mayor Mare specifically, at the podium shuffling papers and preparing to speak as all the others, start to get comfortable and find a place to sit. 
"Everypony, settle down. I know you're all anxious to know why I've brought you here today, and I assure it is a matter of the utmost importance."
>The din of the audience simmers down and the mayor smiles softly. 
>"Thank you. Now, as I'm sure many of you have been noticing, we've recently been losing a frightening number of our children at an alarming rate."

"THAT'S RIGHT. MY FILLY ROSE TUMBLE IS GONE AND I CAN'T FIND HER ANYWHERE!" A shrill cry rises from the crowd.

"MY BABY BITTER SHAFT WAS JUST PLAYING ON THE PLAYGROUND AND SUDDENLY DISAPPEARED WITHOUT A TRACE." another concerned mother sobs.

"WHERE IS MY LITTLE COLT"
"I WANT MY BABY BACK"
"WHAT COULD HAVE HAPPENED TO THEM??"
"What's going on?!"
"Maybe it's Timberwolves!!!"

>"Ponies, please! Settle down!" the increasingly distressed Mayor shouts, "I know we are all concerned for our young, but rabbling on all at once isn't going to clear this situation up any!
>You're starting to shake a little. The bad ponies got them, you think to yourself. It's such a blessing that you have a mother that cares so much about you.
>The mayor takes a step back from the podium's microphone as a familiar teacher steps forward. 
>"Excuse me everypony. My name is Miss Cheerilee, as some of you have come to know me." she starts out shakily, "I have been a teacher to many of your children at the Ponyville Schoolhouse." 
>You smile and wave erratically hoping maybe she'd see and recognize you. Turns out you missed some of these old faces after being taken away from them for so long. 
>Sure enough she makes eye contact with you for a moment, giving a kind smile and a slight wave, before returning to what she was saying.
>"It is with a heavy heart that I find out several of my students have gone missing under my supervision when you entrusted me with their safety." 

>More rabbling from the crowd before the Mayor settles them down again; a quick nod of approval to Miss Cheerilee to continue
“Now I realize that this makes it my responsibility for having lost them, and I accept that.” She says with watery eyes, “I… I love those little fillies and colts too. They’re my children as well in a way, and I will do whatever I can to find them.”
>Several ponies in the crowd looking to each other, murmuring amongst themselves, some nodding in agreement. Mayor Mare herself looks quite sad but gives a slow nod as well before casting her gaze to the stage floor. 
“Then it’s agreed,” says Cheerilee, “I’ll be off right away until I can find those fillies and colts, don’t you worry everypony.” 
>and with that the meeting is adjourned, the audience dispersing and heading back to their homes: all except for your old teacher, Miss Cheerilee, and Mayor Mare. 
“Anon, please come up here if you would, I have something very important to ask you.”
>You make your way up to the stage and climb up nimbly, patting yourself down before standing astute with a small grin, 

“Hi Miss Cheerilee! It’s so wonderful to see you again! How’ve you been? Sorry I never got to turn in the homework.” You apologize.
“That’s quite alright, Anon.” she smiles fondly, “You can turn that in some other day if you do end up coming back. I have to ask though, where have you been? I was worried sick to hear what happened to you.”
>Aww… she worried about you. 
“Don’t worry Miss Cheerilee. Momma has been taking care of me while I’ve been gone.”
“Your... Momma? Anon, I thought you lived in the orphanage?” She inquired quizzically. 
“Yeah! Miss Cage! Tracy! She took me in close to two weeks ago, and has been teaching me at home about Ana... Anat... umm...”
“Anatomy?” she finishes.
“Yeah that one!”
>With the shake of a head, she takes you by the hand and leads you down through town. 
“Anon, I think it’s time we finally had that parent-teacher conference.”


>The two of you made your way across town, several eyes glued to every one of your moments.
>this is getting a little awkward for the two of you.
>It’s as though they expect the two of you to be at fault. 
>Seemingly noticing this, Cheerilee turns to you with a smile and a small nuzzle on your cheek
“Don’t worry my little Anon. You’ll be okay. We’ll get all this sorted out, one way or another.”
>Her words are reassuring but you get a niggling of doubt in the back of your mind.
>Why do they think it’s Momma though?
>She’s a pretty cool guy. She fight monsters, keeps your safe, and doesn’t afraid of anything.
“Why my momma though?” you ask her quizzically.
>For a moment her faces crunches up, trying to come up with a good excuse for someone your age.
“Honey, we don’t think SHE took those poor ponies, but we do think maybe your mom can help us?”
>Yes, that’d be enough to fool Anon for now.
“Okay, but she’s a very quiet pony... Well, not quiet: she actually yells a lot. She doesn’t like talking to other ponies. She’s…”
“Shy?” she finishes for you.
“Yeah! Kind of.”
>With a slight scowl, Cheerilee picks up the pace, muttering a low “I doubt that.”

>You’re both on the outskirts of the town by now. 
>There are a few ponies just now turning out the lights in their homes, heading off to sleep. 
>Meanwhile you and Cheerilee stand outside your door ready to enter. 
>Cheerilee takes a step to knock but you dive suddenly and hold her back giving a hoarse,
“Waiiiiiit!”
“What is it Anon??” she asks jumping back startled.
“What time is it?”
>She stares at your bewildered.
“Anon I realize she might be sleepy but these are pony’s lives we’re talking about here!”
“No no, you don’t understand! Mom said not to come back until midnight!”
>Cheerilee gives you another questioning look.
“You mean you have to be home BY midnight, correct?”
“No.” you answer simply. 
>A silence blooms between you two. Cheerilee looks to the town, although dark, searching for the town clock tower. 
> 11:05 PM
>She looks at you and then the door; her face becoming one of slight anger.
“I-it’s okay Miss Cheerilee. We can go back to town and get some late night ice cream from Pinkie!”
>She’s still shifting glances as you speak, clearly not enjoying this outcome. 
“Anon, I’m sorry, but this is a pressing matter and we simply must go in.”
>her hoof reaches for the door once more.
“No, Cheerilee, no!”
>She hesitates for a moment, truly concerned for your outburst before you hear the voices again.
>The monsters are screaming at you and Cheerilee from below your feet.
>It’s at that point that she takes the initiative to mouth a silent apology before shoving you aside and throwing her weight into the door.

>You’re a bit dazed, having hit your head a little on the ground. Good thing the bush broke your fall.
>You get up and rub your head, searching frantically for your teacher but find no trace of her aside from the now wide open door to your home. 
>You ground yourself and regain your balance, making your way inside cautiously, the screams from the monsters echoing from below once more
>You didn’t want this. You didn’t want your teacher to get hurt. You tried to stop her.
>It’s around this time that Tracy is usually taking care of the daily hauntings by the monsters. 
>You stalk silently as you did your first night with her.
>Ninja Stealth Activated
“Ch-Cheerilee..?” you quietly whisper-call to her.
>Your whisper goes unheard and unanswered. 
>Your stalking didn’t even need to go all that far as you came upon the living room, cracked coffee table and sugar all over the ground.
>The place looked like a mess. 
>You’d pull your detective mode out, but it seems almost useless as your eyes come upon a frail quivering form on the ground.
“Miss... Cheerilee…? Is that you..?” You call out to her quietly again. 
>You take a small step past the TV and creep closer to the pony on the ground
>The door slams behind you. 
“Welcome home, Anon. I see you’ve brought a guest.”

>This is the end.
>This is the end and it's all your fault. 

"Mom... why..?" 

>Be a beaten and bruised Anon. 
>You are in so much pain right now you can't even begin to describe it.
>You aren't talking about the physical aspect either. No, what you're most hurting in is your heart. 
>There she stands; that pale blue horse with the coldest eyes, and colder steel.
>She stood on her hind legs, brandishing her butcher's choice of weaponry and approached, stepping over the teacher you held closest to your childhood.

"I never asked for this Anon. I never asked for a shitstain of a son like you."

>That was an outright lie, she adopted you didn't she?

"I never wanted to have to take care of some faggot who couldn't even use his spine as a fucking crutch if he tried." She spit angrily. 
"I didn't even ask to have to feed the little shit who stuck his nose where it didn't belong."

>She now stood only a foot away, dropping down on all hooves, biting down onto the handle of her grisly weapon. 
"Now I've got to worry about the whole fucking town on my ass looking for this bitch, and it's all your fucking fault."

>She takes a swipe at the air where your head had been, but being the nimble fucker you are, you back up just in time. 
>You almost wish you hadn't. What kind of life is this where not even your own family wanted you? 
>Where even Mom despised every fiber of your being

"I... I love you, mom... please don't..!"

>Another swipe, and you're backed up against the wall, cheek bleeding slightly. 
>That one was far too close for comfort, and let you know, this wasn't just her being her usual angry self.
>this time, she actually wanted you gone. 

>pinpricks for pupils gaze upon your cowering form, waiting for something. Anything. 
>This gives you time to reflect on all the time you've had with her. With the school. With all these fucking horses in this world. 
>You miss home on Earth, but that's never coming back. 
>And then.. something in you snaps.
“Fuck you.” You curse under your breath.
>Her ears perk at this and her anger flares.
“WHAT. WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU SAY TO ME, YOU LITTLE BITCH?”
>You get up to your feet, her body not moving an inch as you get up. No going back now.
“I said, FUCK. YOU.”  You scream those last words.
>This is it. 
>The rebellious stage you never went through. 
“I’m so SICK of your SHIT, Mom!” Your chest heaving as your breath heavily, nostrils flaring.
>She stays frozen in place, change never changing to tell you what other emotions she may feel aside from her anger. 
“Every day I’ve spent in this house, I’ve dealt with you yelling and beating me, and making me feel like it’s all my fault, but I’m so.. SICK OFIT.” You start to choke up.
>Shit, no hold it together Anon, you need to show you’re strong.
“So FUCK YOU. I want to leave. I don’t care if I go live on the streets anymore, because it’s better than spending any more time here with you!! I HATE you. I hate you so much!” 
>At that she flinches, and you can see her fore hooves begin to buckle slightly.
“I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN, YOU FUCKING WHORE.” You bellow, driving the nail in the coffin. 
>The room echoes with how loud you shouted that. The monsters in the house going quiet as well. Cheerilee stirring from her nasty fall. 
>Tracy Cage stands there, her eyes widening now, her angry demeanor draining into one of understanding. Almost. She finally speaks up.
“Go to bed, Anon.” 
She takes a step closer. Hell no, you didn’t take a risk like that to be sent to your room like a child.
“No, Tracy, I-“ 
“Anon! GO. TO. BED.” 
>Then you do something you thought you’d never do again. 
>Your hand stings like white hot needles have pierced the flesh, as your recover from bringing your palm across your own mother’s face.

>You’re standing there, a look of horror spreading across your features, as you begin to grasp what you had just done. 
>The knife falls from her hoof, and she looks at you with a face of mixed anger and disappointment.
>Before you know it, she’s on you, throttling you against the ground, banging your head against the carpeting roughly 
>She’s gone berserk, screaming at the top of her lungs with a fury that Ares himself couldn’t match.
“I’LL TEACH YOU TO DISRESPECT ME, YOU LITTLE SHIT.” She foams at the mouth, unbridled rage infused with her strength.
“I’LL FUCKING SHOW YOU TO TOUCH ME LIKE THAT. I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU, ANON, AND YOU GET TO WATCH ME DO IT.”
>She holds you to it, as your eyes are forced open with fear and pain as you stare into her eyes.
>In that moment as you feel the very last of the air escaping your lungs, her eyes go wide. Wider than they had been. This time in surprise.
>Her eyes trail down your body.. No, they trail down her own, to something protruding from her gut, blood leaking onto you.

>Contrary to what you thought would happen, Mom.. No, Tracy, doesn't scream or screech and tear up at the fact one of her own knives are sticking through her.
>You can't even come to form coherent sentences with how shocked you are to see that blade slide up agonizingly slow, as her organs spill out onto you.
>I'm 13 and what is this?

>Your eyes widen, unsure of what to think. 
>Was it a good thing that she's about to die? 
>She's your mother! You not a minute ago, told her you loved her, and yet here you are, underneath the soon to be corpse of the mare that brought you back from a shitty life into one that taught you to stand up for yourself.

"Anon" you hear your mentor, the sane one that is, whisper to you hoarsely.

>You snap out of your shocked state only really moving your eyes to meet hers, as the blade retracts from the rapidly cooling body on top of you.

>You shove the late Tracy Cage off of you and do your damndest not to start bawling right on the spot, but Cheerilee knows better, and immediately takes a hold of you in her loving hooves, wrapping you in the warmest embrace you've had in a long time.
>The little orbs of salty water fall from your eyes in what seems like a torrential waterfall. 
>You can't stop yourself now, crying loudly, wailing over so many things at once, emotions mixing and twirling in such a short time
>Cheerilee does what she can to slow down the tears, whispering condolences, words or encouragement, telling you things would be okay..
>How could she know that? Things were clearly not okay. 
>Things were not going to be okay for a VERY long time

>As a developing teen, you may not even be aware of it, but this is clearly going to scar you for life. 

"Is this the end, Miss Cheerliee?" You finally manage to utter.
"No, sweetie.. I don't know what will happen next, but this is definitely not the end for you."

>She stops to look at the body, still twitching a little, and instinctively holding you away from it so you can't see the macabre image. 

"Anon, I know you've been through a lot today, but I still need you to help me here."

>How? What possible use could you be now?
>You're about to ask but are cut short by the sounds of the monsters from the depths of the house. 
>Cheerilee hears it too, and looks you in the eye.

"We need to find out what it is making that noise, Anon."
>She at least gives you the courtesy of relaxing for a few more minutes the tenseness of this entire situation slowly ebbing away.
>The two of you finally got up and made your way to another room, Cheerilee trying her hoof at the locked door from your nightmare when you first arrived here.

"It won't work. It's locked."

"I can see that, Anon." She answers flatly with a slight hint of frustration. 

>She's gritting her teeth and you're almost forced to look back at your feet. 
>Why is it everything you do pisses ponies off? 
>Noticing the terseness of her tone, she apologizes swiftly, winning little more than a modicum of a smile and a nod from you. 

"So.. do you know where the key is?" she asks.
"Not really," you answer with a little disappointment, "I only had a dream of going in there. I never imagined actually having to go in and I really don't want to."

>Another wail shot through the house, echoing from within the ventilation again. 
>this is when Cheerilee tells you to stay put and speeds off into Tracy's room. 
>Normally you'd tell her to mind her privacy, but you're quickly reminded of the way she stared into your soul while her's quickly faded from her eyes on top of you. 

>You really don't want to keep remember those eyes.

>After you hear some rummaging and groans of disgust come from the other room, that she returns

"Anon, do you trust me?"
"Well sure Miss Cheerilee, I tru--" 

>'Anon, you trust mommy don't you?' 
>OHHHHH, NOPE. NOPE, BAD MEMORIES GO AWAY.
>'Mommy will never hurt you.'
>STOP STOP STOP.

"STOP STOP STOP AHHHHH"
>and you're being shaken repeatedly

"Anon!" your teacher wakes you from your induced, traumatic memories, "ANON! SNAP OUT OF IT!" 

>You look at her in bewilderment, apologizing profusely.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry it's just that.. Momma would always say that and.." 

"I understand Anon, but you have to get a hold of yourself, and you have to do it now, because you're not going to like what I have to say next."
"YOU WANT ME TO WHAT?" You cry out

"I told you it was going to sound bad, Anon." she repeated.

>You can't believe she's even suggesting this. Go into the room? The nightmare room? Much less the vents? 

"you're crazy!" You protest, albeit very childishly, 
>Then again, you're 13 years old. You have every damn right to be a child about this.

"Anon, please! This could be the only way we can find and save the ponies that went missing!" 

>You think long and hard about it, and you consider all the different options.. 
>Go? Or don't go?
>Let the ponies live? or Save yourself?
"Well Miss Cheerilee.. when you put it like that..." you trail off, "NOPE" 
>You are about to take off in the opposite direction but are promptly tripped by an unamused school teacher. 
>Tripped by an EXPERIENCED school teacher, and then dragged by the feet kicking and screaming bloody murder to a nearby vent as she stares at it wondering how she'll open it while holding on to you.

"Anon."

"NOOOO, I DON'T WANT TO GO, YOU CAN'T MAKE ME"

"Anoooon?"

"I'LL SUE YOU, I'LL CALL THE POLICE!"

"anon, stop, you're old enough to face your fears." 

"I'M NOT GOING TO DIE IN THERE,"

"Anon!" She raises her voice
>maximum annoyance achieved.
"SHUT UP." She shouts.

>You finally stop and listen.
"What if.." she begins mulling thoughts over, "What if I took you in myself." 
>This catches your attention. 
"What if I took you in as my own. It'd be hard, but maybe I could finally teach you something worthwhile."

>Well. It's either that or go to the orphanage again.. 
>You shudder.
"Well okay, but I'm still sore from the last anatomy lesson Tracy taught me, and I don't want to have to learn yet another long lesson about a mare's pussy." 

>the frankness of your tone catches her way off guard and she blushes beet red. 

"Anon did your mother.. did your mother rape you?"
"What? She taught me how foals were made, like how they teach in school."

>She looks at you horrified at what she's hearing and her eyes well up with tears.

"Okay anon.." she sighs dejectedly, "We have a deal. No more anatomy lessons."
>With that you dust yourself off, and she gives a swift kick to the rusty grate of the ventilaton shaft.
>It pops off with ease and releases several puffs of dust and creepy crawlies. 
>You almost turn 360 degrees and walk away at the sight of that, but another look at Cheerilee's worried features inspires bold new confidence. 
>If there was anything you figured, was that you have to know how to take care of those around you. 
>To face your fears. 

"W-wish me luck." 

>She doesn't say anything at first, but instead replies by wrapping you in yet another bear hug, before giving you a peck on the cheek.

"I believe in you, Anon. You don't need luck. You were, and always have been, my brightest student." 

>You force back tears of happiness from that statement and adopt a fierce look of confidence, as you salute to her.
>You duck down and crawl headfirst into the vents not saying another word, and taking to the metal shafts commando style.
>You traverse this metallic and echoing plane alone and afraid, but you had to stay strong.
>"Stay the course" you tell yourself, hitting dead end after dead end. 

>"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.." A wail erupts through the ventilation shafts.

"St-stay the course, stay the course, stay the course.." you mumble.

"Anon??" You hear a shrill voice from beyond the tight walls, "Are you okay?"

>Looks like you aren't alone after all. Her voice soothing you in this dark, dank environment. 

"I'm okay, Cheerilee! I can't find the door though. I keep getting lost." 

"No Anon, you aren't! You're really close! I'm actually standing right next to the locked door!" 

>Oh! well that means..
>You look at the 3 way split you've come upon.
>Visualizing the house, you see a path leading to wear the vents would dip into the room. 
>Perfect.

>You finally find the right path and come upon the grate, musty and moist.

"I think I found it!" You call out to her.
>No response.
"Cheerilee?" you sound off louder.
>Still nothing.
>Even the wails and screams simmered down to what sounded like groaning and whimpers.

>Staring into the abyss, you can't make out anything. 

>It's now or never Anon.
>with a mighty kick, you shoot the grate a good 3 yards before it lands with a grating thud and the room is enveloped in silence once more. 

"I liked it more when I at least heard the screams.." 

>You hop down hesitantly, really unsure of wanting to go there, but realizing that you'd do nothing more than sit there doing idly. 
>This was eerily similar to what you remember from your nightmare, which gives you the idea of mapping it out as you had before.

>Lets see.. if this wall was here.. and that column was there..
>You sidle your way through the dark, eyes taking their sweet time adjusting to the pitch black. 

*thump*

>You're frozen. 
>What the fuck was that. 
>Shit shit fuck shit what was that?!
>You frantically look left and right, not realizing the futility of your search efforts, the dark looking all the same to you. 

>Why didn't you think to bring a flashlight?? WHY?!
>Sidling faster you reach a corner as the sound of something worming its way to you draw near. 
>It's right behind you, muttering and groaning.
>In the frantic sidling you forget to feel ahead and come face first into a stone wall. 

Ow.

"unghh..." something sounds from right behind you. It's voice coarse, but feminine in nature.

>A wave of panic rushes over you and you kick behind you instinctively, hopping over whatever your foot connects with 

>It lets out a pained yelp as you sprint into the dark, a string colliding with your face and making you stop. 

"LIGHT! PLEASE BE LIGHT!"

>You tug at the string and are blinded for a moment as several lights around the room ignite at once, flooding the room in bright white color.
>You finally open your eyes, and almost wish you hadn't as your eyes meet with walls coated in splotches of an almost rustic red color. 
>Several machines line these walls, some empty, others writhing with the lives of bound and gagged ponies. 
>A few are blindfolded, but those that aren't struggle furiously against their bonds, desperately moaning and pleaing for their freedom. 

"Hmph!!" 
"MM!!" 
"HRNHHh!"

>There are at least 7 of them attached to tables spreading their hooves apart, various patches of their coats are matted down in a mess.
>All of their eyes are covered in long since dried tears. 
>Some look violated, quivering in place, others still unconscious or so you think. Aren't you quite the optimist?

"Who.. who are.. how..?"

>Your eyes lead you all around the room, several sacks lying here and there, some still moving. 
>You meet with one that you kicked not too long ago, it's quivering making you very uncomfortable. 

>You immediately approach one of the many tables and start undoing the several ropes and chains, only now taking note of all the various tools next to them. 

>Among those tools you see a note. It's addressed to you.


“Hello Anon.” It starts out, you notice a little star next to your name and a subnote on the top right saying [spoiler]”If this ISN’T my little baby, fuck right the hell off.”[/spoiler]. 
>You shake your head and continue on, the bodies around you becoming restless. 
“I’m assuming if you read this that you’ve killed me, or at least someone has, and you got snoopy trying to find the key to my ‘office’ up my ass.”
>Ew. 
>You shake your head and continue. 
>There were another two asterisks next to that sentence, and you follow the page to find the proper subnote to that, which reads, [spoiler]and if you found a way into her while I’m still alive, you better believe I’m going to strap you to one of these tables, and fuck you silly just like your little friends.[/spoiler] 
>You tear your eyes from the note and look at some of the fillies, colts, stallions, and mares on the tables and realize that you do recognize one of them as the main bully from school. 
“No idea how long it’ll take your monkey brain to understand any of this, but I don’t really care either. The reason I write this is because I have a last choice for you to make something of yourself rather than being such a pussy all the time. A way to take what’s rightfully yours, without letting the chance slip away again.” 
>You look once more to the look of desperation in the colt’s eyes as you step up to his table.

“You hurt me a lot,” You tell him, a dark undertone making its place in your voice. 
>Of course the gag in his mouth won’t let him say anything, but the whimpering is a good indication that he knows what’s coming.
>You’re understanding this chance Tracy has given you. She’s dead and gone, and the monsters she implanted in your head have since been disbanded.. or have they? 
>memories of each day afterschool flood you as you look into the face of fear itself. 
>This is no longer intimidating, and you’re the one in control now. 
>It’s just one colt. 
>One miserable piece of garbage that has hurt so many before you. 
>You’re doing this land a favor.

>Yet in the midst of this thinking, a voice calls out to you.
“Anon? Are you okay in there? Anon??”
>A thumping is heard from behind, the door rattling a little.
>Cheerilee! What would she think of you if you did what you did. 
>Then again, she might not know. He could have been like this before she came in 
“I’M STILL TRYING TO FIND THE LIGHTS!” You call out to her, “EVERYTHING IS OKAY!”
>Lying to her stings inside, but you need some time.
>Picking up one of the tools, a scalpel, you trace an ‘X’ over his hyperventilating chest. 
“You hurt me a lot, and so did your friends.” You tell him again, “I think maybe it’s your turn.”
>you draw a line down his forehoof, pressing down and making an incision all the way down.
>even with his gag, he makes quite a bit of noise howling in pain and tearing up.
>Looking down at his slit hooves, the blood leaking out in a slow dribble. 
>Christ, he’s crying like a foal. You wonder if he’s hurting as much as you had been.
Nah.. probably not.
>You look to the set of tools and pick up a jar filled with what looks like salt.
>Popping the cap, you use your other hand to cut another few incisions along the abdomen before sprinkling the salt in lightly.
>His face contorts into an even tighter grimace as the pain shoots through his arm and his muffled screams continue.

>At first your anger at all the memories of him and his friends began to soothe you, slowly melting away, but now it became something else..
>Something of a sort of pleasure to hurting someone as they had done to you.
>Your mind was racing now. Where had all the other ponies been to help in your time of need? 
>Why didn’t your friends try to help you after the bullies stopped hurting them? 
>Why did you deserve all that pain?
>Lost in thought, you don’t even  notice that the colt is seizing up and closing his eyes until the rattling of the table stops.
>The shock from all the pain had been too much for him. 
>You frown and look at him longer before seeing his table is capable of moving around.
>You sneer wickedly and flip him upside down and brushing aside his tail to reveal his ass.
>It looked worse for wear, covered in cuts, and opened a little more widely indicating it’d be used.
>Tracy must have really went to town on him knowing he had been the one hurting you in school.
>Realizing all this you begin to think to yourself again, 
“Am I really going to do this? He’s so young, maybe he didn’t know what he was doing.” 
………………
>You raise your arm back and slam the half full jar of remaining salt into his puckered hole, and walk away 
>Yup. Worth it.

>You turn the lights out and return back up the stairs, fiddling with the door, pressing close to it and saying , “I think I found it!”, as you pretend to fumble with the handle and open it, with a grin of accomplishment.
“Oh thank goodness!” She says, squeezing you tightly in relief, “I was so worried about you Anon!”
> she retreats from you in revulsion, and you fear that she might have noticed something you hadn’t.
>sweatingbullets.gif
“Celestia, what is that stench?!”
>You give a mental sigh of relief before answering her with a confused expression, “I-I don’t know..” you reply feigning a shakiness in your voice.
>She deadpans and takes a few steps down, blindly trailing her hooves on the wall as you had the first time you’d been down here.
“I can’t see anything!”
>Thoughts cross your mind of what you could do to her in this situation.
>You slap yourself.
>You meant to think “do to help” in this situation.
>Starting to not like where this new mindset is going. No way in hell you want to end up as terrible a pony/person as Tracy.
>You stumble your way towards the center of the room, and ‘accidentily’ hit yourself with the string for light again.
>You give it a quick tug, and the lights return once more, 2 of them burning out  immediately.
>Cheerilee gives a quick “eep!” as the lights turn on in a flash and she’s forced to cover her eyes at first.
>Tension gnaws at you as you wait for her reaction to what she’s about to see next.

>She slowly opens one at a time, squinting until her eyes get used to it before suddenly shooting open in a mixture of revulsion, confusion, and disbelief.
>She mutters incoherently, unable to form the right words for what she’s thinking, taking in the sight of several hung, and strapped up ponies.
And then it happens.
>She screams with such a high intensity that you have to cover your ears to drown out a fraction of the sound, between her shrill wail and all the bodies beginning to writhe and moan in response.
>You rush to her side and hold her, trying to hide her eyes from the horrors of this basement and you keep her there, like the good son you’ve tried to be.
>You immediately lead her outside and let her catch her breath at the top of the stairs. 

>Now it was your turn to comfort her.
>You did so taking the initiative to lead her out of the house and back into town, her sobbing and cries dragging the attention of the ponies previously sleeping.
>You want to take her back to her home.
>You want to comfort her and tell her it’ll be okay.
>You want to be there for her and take care of her so that she may forget the horrors that befell all those missing ponies.
>She insisted however, through her tears, that you make a beeline straight to the station, and you obliged. 
>The authorities upon hearing your story were incredibly skeptical, but became otherwise convinced when Miss Cheerilee stepped in full of rage, shaking one of the officials and pleading your case. 
>After having restrained the panicked mare before she was to be taken away to the crazy-house, you beg them to believe you, and send a group of police ponies up to the house. 
>Sure enough you could tell they found what they were looking for the moment they stepped through the door of the station with a look of franticness and horror. 

>In the end, everything was taken care of. 
>You and Cheerilee were questioned tirelessly by several of these ponies, but eventually got off scotch free, commended for having taken care of the menace that haunted Ponyville.
>Cheerilee kept her end of the bargain keeping you in her modest home. 
>It wasn’t much, but it was much better than living with Tracy or in the orphanage.
>She treated you right, and kept you healthy and educated.
>She was, for lack of a better term, just like a mother to you.
>You only suffered minor bouts of PTSD at seemingly random intervals through the time you spent with her, but with time, those too had become far and few in between.
>It all worked out better than expected. 
>You are Anon, and you couldn’t be happier. 

-Fin-

Pastebin.com Tools & Applications

iPhone/iPad

Windows

Firefox

Chrome

WebOS

Android

Mac

Opera

Click.to

UNIX

WinPhone