>Be Anon
>Living the life in the ponyvilian suburbs.
>Actually it was the only place you could afford.
>Having the Everfree Forest on your doorstep really downs a house's price.
>You take a walk on the forest checking on the traps you've set.
>Anon want meat. But Anon doesn't want to be meat.
>You prefer mornings. Nocturnal predators are retreating at this hour.
>While the diurnal ones are still groggy from sleep.
>You come across a black thing that looks like roadkill.
>On a fantasy medieval setting of eternal happyness.
>It's like a pony-thing but bigger, slimmer and with bug wings along with a gnarled horn.
>Upon closer inspection, you notice it's very skinny. You can see the bones.
>The wings look torn.
>Are those...holes on it's flesh?
>It's not just the morning cold that sends a chill down your spine.
>Strange. That's not how nature works.
>First, the predator would eat as much surface meat and gut as it could.
>Then, the scavengers would eat their fill.
>Followed by the vultures.
>And lastly, the worms and bacteria.
>Damn nature, you scary.
>But this looks like it's been passed on even by whatever wounded it.
>You pick a piece of wood from the ground.
>You prod the carcass half expecting it to explode or spill swarms of spiders and shit.
>You hear a strange noise. Like a moan.
>You draw your pocket knife.
>What kind of an idiot would enter a forest that houses half the castlevania bestiary unarmed anyway?
>You take a quick look 360 degrees around you.
>Nothing.
>You close your eyes and try to sense the threat.
>Another moan forces you to open them again.
>You witness the most disturbing sight you've seen in your life.
>The corpse is moving!
>It turns it's head with an effort and looks you in the eye.
>Man, this is fucked.
>You jump back, too scared to stay near and too horrified to look away.
>It opens it's mouth and whispers with failing strength.
>".......help.....meeee....."
>You don't even have the time to fight down the urge to vomit.
>Your courage is sapped at the sight of the living dead.
>Your mind races back on stories about insects and mammals being eaten alive from the inside by worms and larvae.
>You turn and run.
>You run as if the shadow predators that stalked man in times immemorable were after you.
>You further lose your shit when the sound of screams fills your ears.
>Your lungs burn by the lack of air.
>You finally exit the forest and into the morning sun's light.
>You stumble and fall down.
>You realize it was you who was screaming all along.
>You get up again and run all the way to Fluttershy's cottage.
 
 
 
 
>Be Fluttershy.
>You wake up at the sound of the rooster welcoming the new day.
>You yawn and turn on the the other side.
>You feel something tugging at your mane.
>"Not now, Angel Bunny."
>The tugging persists.
>"Five more minutes"
>The tugging stops. Good.
>Your heart skips a bit as something cold and wet hits you in the face.
>You are startled into consciousness.
>You must stop leaving a glass of water next to your bed at night.
>"Fine, fine. Let's get some breakfast."
>You sigh and get off bed. Time to feed the animals.
>Fast forward fifteen minutes and you're outside feeding the critters.
>You still haven't eaten anything.
>You are about to feed your chickens when you hear screaming.
>Screaming? Oh no! Something terrible must have happened!
>You see Anon come out of the woods screaming and running.
>His legs seem to be barely touching the ground.
>The sight of a creature walking on it's hind legs is odd.
>But watching it run with it's reverse-articulated legs and reach such speeds is pure mindfuck.
>You squeal and run back inside.
>The screaming stops.
>You risk a glance outside.
>Anon has fallen down.
>Your instict to help wounded creatures causes you to run towards him.
>Until he gets up and starts running towards you.
>You squeal in fear again and lock yourself in your cottage.
>A minute later Anon is banging on your door.
>"Fluttershy! Fluttershy open up!"
>Banging. Shouting. Moving. Urgency. Panic.
>"For Christ's sake Fluttershy, open up! I beg of you!"
>You hesitate but open the door. Anon is a friend after all.
>The man before you however doen't look like a friend.
>His hair is wild. Tears run down his cheecks and the fire of madness dances in his eyes.
>His whole bulk inflates and deflates as his body is furiously trying to catch it's breath.
>Something is seriously wrong here.
>You start to back away. This was a bad idea.
>Before you can back away enough, Anon reaches out and grabs you.
>"Anon, you are hurti-"
>"It was dead! DEAD! Why did it move? Why is it ALIVE?!"
 
 
 
 
>Be Twilight.
>You're in your library.
>Anon is here with you, in the next room.
>He was bewildered when he came.
>You turn to Spike.
>"How is he?"
>"Calmer" says the little dragon.
>"Did you give him the coffee?"
>"Yup. Extra strong, like you told me."
>"Good. He'll be out of his stupor soon."
>Spike is looking at you.
>"What?"
>Spike seems hesitant.
>"I don't know, Twilight. He didn't smell like alcohol to me."
>Oh Spike. When will he learn to not second guess you...
>You decide to talk to Anon.
>You put your ear on the door and try to hear. No noise.
>Bother. He didn't pass out on your floor, did he?
>You push the door with your cheek.
>No, there he is sitting on a stump you use as a table from time to time.
>Pony chairs can't quite...contain him.
>He is busying himself looking at his coffee instead of drinking it.
>His eyes are sullen and his face long.
>As you approach him, his eyes lift from the cup and look at you.
>"Are you calmer now?" you inquire.
>He nods weakly.
>"Yeah."
>He takes a sip from the coffee.
>He doesn't say it, but you can tell from his face that it's too sour for him.
>"Good. Now tell me calm and clear what happened."
>"Anon starts talking slowly, as if tasting each word in his mouth before letting it out.
>"I was taking a walk around the Everfree forest. Nothing strange. Until I found this...thing."
>You levitate a quill and parchment near you and start taking notices.
>...fatigue, withdrawal to self...
>"This thing. Can you describe it for me, Anon?"
>"I...I...don't remember much..."
>...lack of concentration...
>Anon continues after a second.
>"I thought it was a carcass. It looked the part. It had strange wounds".
>"Strange wounds?" you ask.
>Anon takes a breath and thinks for a moment.
>"Animals have teeth and claws, you know? They slash or tear their prey."
>The casualness with which Anon discusses gore still unsettles you.
>You briefly wonder if it's just him being mentaly ill or if it's his whole race who's so used to having suffering around them.
>"But this carcass had no such marks. Instead it missed whole chunks of it's flesh. Round chunks."
>"That's impossible. No animal has a round denture" you interrupt him.
>...add dillusions to the list...
>"I know. And what's even more strange is that the rest of it was skinny. Nothing had eaten it. It looked instead as if had starved to death."
>"So you were shocked at the sight of a corpse?"
>...fear of own mortality...
>Anon resumes staring at his coffee.
>"I've seen dead people before. It was..dreadful. Have you ever lost someone close to you, Twilight?"
>You feel unsettled by the maccabre conversation changing focus from him to you.
>"No, I can't say I have, thankfully".
>"Well, I have."
>You notice Anon's voice changing as if there's something on his throat.
>"Seeing a person just lying there...knowing it can't be fixed...an inanimate piece of meat...one you're used interacting with for most of your life..."
>Anon tries to clear his throat, but when he speaks again, you notice he couldn't.
>"To see it jsut lying there...I used to think death is natural, but from up close it looks like as if someone is stealing from us. Feeding on us."
>"I think you are afraid of mortality, Anon."
>Anon rubs his eyes. They are watery now.
>"That's not it. It's just that...when people are dead, they are't meant to move. But this...thing in the woods did. It turned it's head."
>"...Anon..."
>"It talked too."
>...advanced schizophrenia...
>"Oh? And what did it tell you?"
>Anon downs the rest of the coffee in one gulp.
>"It asked for help."
>...potentially irredeemable case...
>You put the quill and parchment aside.
>You walk up to Anon and on him.
>"What gives, Twilight?"
>You shush him and sniff him.
>Hmm... You can't smell any alcohol.
>"Keep your eyes wide open please. I need to examine them."
>Your horn flashes bright and you take a really close look at Anon's eyes.
>The vains, while showing a lot, are relatively normal as far as you know humans.
>The iris seems undamaged and the pupils react just fine.
>That doesn't add up.
>"Where were you last night?" you ask.
>Anon frowns. You don't believe him and he knows it.
>"Home. I was reading a book about the noble house Harponnen."
>"Have you recently consumed anything I've told you not to?"
>"I have done no foraging and have used only herbs that exist in my world too."
>You are running out of ideas.
>"How about alcohol? Have you drunk any?"
>"Not a drop. My kin has offered plenty of examples to avoid."
>"How about other...substances?"
>Anon raises an eyebrow.
>"Such as...?"
>It's not fitting for a proper filly like yourself to know about these things.
>"I dunno...But you seem to have befriended some questionable mares in your time here."
>Anon raises the empty cup.
>"So this is what this...this shot of jet black coffee is about?!"
>Anon is now towering over you, apparently angry. His throat is now clear and his voice is booming.
>"Listen here stupid and clear the jam off your ears. Burry doesn't get others drunk and Scratch isn't some STD-ridden junkie!"
>You don't reply. You've warned Anon that for every profanity he says, you won't talk to him for a minute.
>"You know Twilight, for a cunt you're such a dick. No wonder you never had friends in Canterlot. It's because they knew you."
>Anon stomps all the way out, stopping to call Spike a born slave.
>You sigh. How could Anon be so heartless as to say such things to you?
 
 
 
 
>Be Anon.
>It's night.
>Man, Twilight is such a stuck up bitch.
>You try to ask for help and she calls you a drunk and a tripper.
>You sigh. How could she be so heartless as to say such things to you?
>You look at the book resting on your bedside table.
>Books have been your late night companions for some time now.
>You want to sleep but you're too disturbed by today's encounter to relax.
>You lie on the bed deciding to read through the night.
>Tomorrow you'll go sleep at Lyra's.
>You should be safe at daytime and among other people.
>You pick up the book and flip to the page you've set your bookmark in.
>"...The Baron had two sons, Ginseng and Copec who antagonized eachother..."
>You read and read, until your vision blurrs and your concentration is gone.
>You set the book aside and rub your eyes.
>It's hard to stay up without internet.
>You look at the clock.
>It's almost half past 3am.
>Some call it the devil's witching hour back in your world.
>You wouldn't pay much mind to such superstitions if it weren't for your morning.
>Now you are creeped out and jumpy.
>You decide to get off bed and lock all doors and windows.
>You check the windows and bolt them.
>You check the door and make sure your wooden cudgel is in place next to it.
>You get back to your bed and lie on it thinking.
>You don't want to live in fear. You should go back to the forest to deal with the creature once and for all.
>Perhaps with a silver stake and a few stallions you c-
>A gentle rapping on the window pulls you back to reality.
>You open your eyes.
>Open?
>Crap, you fell asleep.
>You look at the window. Nothing there.
>*Thud!*
>Something fell.
>Something big.
>Something that a moment ago was on your window and trying to get in.
>You are being paranoid. You must keep it together.
>You hear shuffling from outside, as if something is dragging it's bulk through your garden.
>You get off the bed again and pick up the oil lamp from your your bedside table.
>You head for the door.
>The shuffling persists, although the direction of the sound is changing.
>It stops occasionally.
>You pick up your wooden cudgel.
>It doesn't hurt to be armed.
>Although you doubt anything could get in.
>After all, you locked all the doors and windows.
>Creaking. Thud. More shuffling.
>...Except for the basement door that locks from the outside...
>The shuffler is inside now. The weapon will come in handy.
>You stand there for a moment or two thinking about leaving the house and running outside.
>But there may be more outside...
>You make a dash from the internal basement door that connects the basement to the rest of the house.
>It doesn't lock. You'll have to prop a chair against the handle.
>But you wasted precious time.
>The door's handle backs away as you try to reach it and the door opens.
>You jump back startled. Good thing you didn't drop your oil lamp.
>Your hunter emerges from the darkness and into the soft light.
>It's that thing. The living corpse.
>Shuffling towards you.
>You grit your teeth and your knuckles go white as they squeeze the cudgel's handle.
>This is your home. You sanctuary. And this...thing dares to befoul it?!
>You raise the cudgel over your head and prepare to bring it down on a wide arc.
>The zombie pony stops moving and is staring at you.
>It's eyes are emitting an almost inpeceptible green glow.
>"...please...I won't...huuuuu...hurt you...."
>You hesitate.
>The creature falls on the floor and doesn't move again.
>You watch like a hawk for any movement.
>Nothing but shallow breathing.
>Shallow breathing?
>You kneel next to the creature.
>You leave the oil lamp a safe distance away from the creature.
>With your free hand you pin it's head on the floor.
>You slowly push your head against it's chest.
>You hear the faint, distant beating of a weak heart.
 
 
 
 
>Be Chrysalis
>You are the queen of the changelings.
>Or at least you were.
>It was your responsibility to find food for your subjects.
>You thought you'd found it. In Canterlot.
>Canterlot...The site of your downfall.
>You were beaten back. You failed to feed your subjects.
>You were exiled for this, and only because you managed to escape with your life.
>A new queen arised and turned your loved ones against you.
>You remember the moment of betrayal.
>"Off with her head!" she ordered her minions.
>Now here you are, starving, sick, near death and lost in a sea of fever dreams.
>You feel something cool brushing against your forehead.
>It feels nice.
>..........
>You wake up.
>You look around.
>You are in an unfamiliar place that looks like a storage room.
>You get on your hooves and walk around.
>You feel a little better.
>You must have fed off the affection the inhabitants of this place have for eachother.
>You need more nourishment.
>There are two doors out of this room but they are both locked.
>You hear commotion from the other side of one door.
>Heavy steps, followed by a deep voice.
>"Hey! Um...whatever you are. Are you awake?
>Ever since your swarm of a family turned on you all you've seen in the world is pain and danger.
>You decide to not reply.
>"I'm coming in. Stay where I can see you and don't try anything."
>There's a noise coming from the door.
>Whatever's on the other side is big and has you trapped.
>Paniced, you look for a way out. For a place to hide. Anything.
>The door opens and you come face to face with your host.
>It's big alright, but it's unlike any creature you've seen before.
>It's standing on it's hind legs which bend forwards.
>It's skin is like a pig's and it's coat is extremely thin. Almost inexistent.
>It's front legs bend backwards and it's hooves end up in five, very small, uneven legs.
>It's eyes are small, it's ears a completely alien shape, and it's snout abnormal.
>This is an abomination of nature.
>It's carring a wooden bowl on one hoof and a box on the other.
>"I see you are better. Good."
>You back away as he comes near you.
>You can almost taste it's feelings.
>Lots of bottled rage, malice, hate and loathing.
>No good thing could had birthed such a creature.
>"Don't worry. I won't hurt you" it says as it comes ever nearer.
>Your back is now against the wall.
>"Who-What are you and how did I get here?" you demand.
>"The creature looks puzzled and a little offended.
>"I'm a terran. More specifically I'm a male human, but I don't like associating myself to the rest of mankind."
>A hermit? Outcast like you, maybe?
>"As to your other questions, my name is Anonymous and you crawled all the way here from the forest, begging for my help."
>You couldn't distinguish reality from phantoms in your fever dreams.
>You relax a little, knowing that the monster didn't harm you when it had the chance.
>"And where is "all the way here" exactly?" you inquire.
>"Ponyvile."
>"Ponyvile?!"
>Oh no. By now every p0ny has heard of your actions on the castle and are hunting for you.
>Anonymous leaves the bowl and the box next to you and walks to the other door.
>"So, what is your name? And what are you?" he asks as he unlocks the door.
>"I'm..."
>You can't tell him. He is a ponyfriend.
>"I...have no name and kin. I'm an outcast, like you."
>Anonymous opens the door, letting some light in.
>"I'm not an outcast. I'm just stranded here" he replies.
>"I thought you were exiled."
>"As far as I'm concerned, it is I who exiled the rest of the world."
>What a strange creature.
>Anonymous kneels next to you and opens the box.
>You smell rubbing alcohol and cotton. Must be a first aid box.
>"Now, to clean your wounds."
>He takes one of your hooves at a time and examines it.
>He puts his small legs at the end of his front hooves in your holes.
>You find that disturbing but make no move.
>You can't help but blush a little, nonetheless.
>He raises an eyebrow.
>"Odd. There's no scar tissue, cuts, or different flesh colour. Are those holes...natural?"
>"Yes, they are natural and no, they are not wounds."
>"Same for the wings?"
>You look at your wings. Your beautyful wings. They are in tatters, but they'll heal.
>"They'll heal."
>Anonymous sighs and puts away the medical supplies.
>He offers you the wooden bowl.
>There's food in it. People food.
>"What is this?" you ask.
>"Mushed taters. Potatoes. I thought you couldn't chew in your condition."
>Is that...affection you feel?
>"I never eat...err, potatoes."
>Almost forgot yourself there.
>"What do you want then?" he asks.
>"Don't worry Anonymous. I'm fine."
>"Call me Anon. Say, what name do you go by?
>Oh yes. There's that issue.
>"What would you call me?" you offer.
>"Let's see...I didn't see any manparts on you and you look mysterious, kinda fairy-ish and feminine."
>You nod.
>"Fae Lass. How about it?"
>Time to feed.
>"I like it" you say with a smile.
>You rest your head on Anon's shoulder.
>"Thank you, Anon. Thank you for taking me in."
>He puts his front legs around you.
>"Think nothing of it, Fae."
>Yummy.