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				<a id="mw-mf-last-modified" data-timestamp="1476647995" href="http://mulpwiki.org/index.php/Special:History/A_Princess%27_Monster" data-user-name="HotRobotSlave" data-user-gender="unknown" class="top-bar truncated-text">Last modified on 16 October 2016, at 19:59</a>		<script>
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			<h1 id="section_0">A Princess' Monster</h1><ul id="page-actions" class="hlist"><li id="ca-edit" class="icon icon-32px icon-edit" title="Edit the lead section of this page."></li><li id="ca-talk" class="hidden icon icon-32px icon-talk"><a href="http://mulpwiki.org/index.php?title=Talk:A_Princess%27_Monster&amp;action=edit&amp;redlink=1" title="Discussion about the content page [t]" accesskey="t">Discussion</a></li><li id="ca-watch" class="watch-this-article icon icon-32px"><a href="http://mulpwiki.org/index.php?title=Special:UserLogin&amp;returnto=A+Princess%27+Monster" title="Add this page to your watchlist [w]" accesskey="w"></a></li></ul>		</div>
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<td><b>Writefag</b>
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<td> Djinn-Archieves
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<td><b>Pastebin link</b>:
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<td><a rel="nofollow" class="external free" href="http://pastebin.com/XRt0E9cy">http://pastebin.com/XRt0E9cy</a>
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<td><b>Pastebin creation</b>
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<td>Tuesday 15th of March 2016 08:49:33 AM CDT
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<td><b>Last Pastebin update</b>
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<td>Wednesday 15th of June 2016 08:45:27 PM CDT
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</div><h3><span class="mw-headline" id="A_Princess.27_Monster">A Princess' Monster</span><a href="A_Princess'_Monster#/editor/1" title="Edit section: A Princess' Monster" data-section="1" class="edit-page icon icon-32px icon-edit enabled">Edit</a></h3><div>
<div dir="ltr" class="mw-geshi mw-code mw-content-ltr"><div class="gettext source-gettext">&#160;<br />~A Princess' Monster~<br /><span class="br0">&#91;</span>Part I<span class="br0">&#93;</span><br />|Deal With the Devil|<br />~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br /><br /><span class="co4">&gt;1288 C.E</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;Anon the Ripper terrorizes Canterlot, preying on lone mares who stray from their homes at ungodly hours!</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;The peaceful city is wracked with fear. Citizens are unable to leave their homes for fear of death.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;Forty-seven mares have already fallen to this monster's bloodlust and the body count rises!</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;Seven mares have gone missing this week alone, and with the nefarious creature lurking about, they are presumed dead!</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;&quot;.....Our hearts go out to each and every family who've lost loved one to this wild beast. It is advised that citizens stay indoors past sundown...&quot;</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;Princess Celestia trails off as she places the days newspaper down on the table and resumes her tea.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;&quot;How convenient...&quot;</span><br /><br />~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br /><br /><span class="co4">&gt;Lightning illuminates the dark skies over Canterlot. Rain crashing down like cats and dogs, hitting the cobble stone streets and going pitter-patter, pitter-patter.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;A shadowy figure stands over a corpse, blood mixing with water as it pooled around its boots.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;He was male. Tall and scrawny, almost sickly so. His eyes were those of a maddened bull and his teeth were razor blades fixed to his jaws. His clothing concealed the rest of him. Dressed in the height of fashion. At least, a popular aesthetic from where the creature originated. A very tall hat that rested lazily on his head. A long coat that stopped just by his calves. A very dapper suit hugged him closely in the cold rainy night.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;Lightning boomed across the sky again with an encore of thunder. He could see his reflection then, in the puddle of watered down blood. Rather, -you- could see your reflection.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;You crouch down by the corpse. She was still fresh, your latest kill. Your gaze traces her figure, starting at the hooves and making its way to her heart. There, protruding out of the mane's chest was a dagger. Blood ran from her mouth, as well as tears from her pinpricked eyes. You could still hear her struggling to breath as blood surged into her lungs. You shiver, perhaps because of the chill in the air or the adrenaline.</span><br /><br /><span class="co4">&gt;You gingerly reach for the hilt of the dagger, wrapping your hard leather gloves around it. Giving a mighty tug the dagger comes loose with a thick sopping sound. You shiver again.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;With your other hand you reach into your coat pocket and retrieve a handkerchief, dry with the blood of previous prey. The dagger quickly returns to its reflective metal form, no longer stained with the murky thick ichor of the innocent mare.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;After tucking the dagger away safely, you stand. It was getting colder by the minute. The longer you stayed out the higher chance you gave yourself to sickness.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;But before leaving, there was something you had to do. Something you do with ever mare after their life's ending. Very carefully, as careful as a mouse you stick your boot out and move it under the mare's dress.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;You apologize to the mare for what you were about to do and raise your leg, revealing the mare's cutie mark. A golden lyre.</span><br />&quot;How quaint.&quot; you say looking at the lyre that lay snapped in half beside her.<br /><span class="co4">&gt;Withdrawing your foot you back away and give a deep respectful bow.</span><br />&quot;You were extravagant. There hasn't been a mare like you in quite some time. And as I take my leave, I fear there won't ever be a mare quite so amazing as you.&quot;<br /><span class="co4">&gt;You tug on the lapels of your coat before turning to saunter away, leaving the mare damp and soaked.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;As you stroll through the rainy alleys of Canterlot, you whistle to pass the time. Your voice meshes with the sound of your leather heels on the cobble. Bouncing off the walls and skipping back to you.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;It had been an eventful evening for you. One that probably warranted your bounty raised another several hundred bits.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;The alleyway was illuminated by magical street lamps that gave the dark walkway a purplish glow. Looking down, you could see the light dance in the still puddles of rain.</span><br />&quot;Damned pegasi.&quot;<br /><br /><span class="co4">&gt;It had been raining all this week and didn't look like it would let up any time soon. You couldn't say you liked rainy days. They obscured your vision at night and dampened your fine clothes. Not to mention mares caught in the rain were slightly less appealing than on a clear night.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;Regardless you still made an effort to make your rounds. If you hadn't, mares would go unattended under Luna's pale moon.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;Suddenly a flash of cold wind tackles you, grappling with you until you are completely still. You halt, listening to your surroundings. You were very paranoid, and rightfully so. Any self-respecting serial killer would be paranoid, right?</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;You are stone; a craft worthy of Michelangelo as you stand perfectly still. For awhile you hear nothing. So you opt to wait a while longer. You wait until all your whiles are spent, finally taking up your stroll again.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;Then you hear it. The sound of whistles screaming into the brisk air. Harsh and heavy hoof steps trampling over cobble. Hoarse voices calling into the night at one another. They must have found her.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;Lighting becomes your ally as it throws its thunder out to conceal your own running footsteps. Your steps are masked by nature as you resume your route home in a hasty fashion.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;You count off in your head the number of twists and turns.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;Left, another left. Three rights while avoiding the lights. Over and under, concealed by thunder. It's always done without a blunder.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;Your legs bring you still as you take a moment to regain your breath.</span><br />&quot;Have I always rhymed in my head?&quot; you ask aloud. To no one in particular other than yourself. But you don't respond.<br /><span class="co4">&gt;Instead you continue walking, too tired (or too lazy) to run.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;You were about a few yards away from home. A nice abandoned house that sat between a bakery and shop for daggers and combs. It had been your stay for a very long time. So long in fact that you don't remember.</span><br /><br /><span class="co4">&gt;Time is almost meaningless to you now. When you came to Equestria the concept of time deteriorated. Slowly but surely. Now you can't even tell if you ripped your good shirt a week or a month ago.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;You open the large wooden door to your home and slither inside. The rain becomes muffled after you close it behind you, giving you the sense that you had walked into someplace else.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;There were no lights, only filtered rays that hung quietly in the air from the outside lights.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;Despite the darkness, it was very easy for you to maneuver. You knew where everything was,right down to the inch.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;Picking up where you left off you begin whistle. You go through your systematic ritual of undressing.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;First you peel away your long coat and with it the day's stress. Next you remove your hat, something that should be done first thing when entering a building. You remove your gloves, slowly peeling your hands out of the tight leather grasps of false fingers.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;You turn around, stuffing your gloves in your coat pocket and hanging it on the coat rack along with your hat. Then you turn around again, take five steps before removing your baldric.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;The leather strap comes off you with ease. The buckle a faded silver and discolored brass. Carefully you set it down on the table in front of you. Afterwards you take the dagger and place it on its pedestal with the delicacy of a bee on tulips.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;Your most prized possession. Eight inches from hilt to tip, a stunning metallic majesty that soaked its lusty fangs into countless mares. The hilt, which you admired so, was a combination of gold and bronze. A beautiful diamond lay encrusted on each side of the hilt. It was by far the fanciest thing you owned.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;You stare at the blade as it sits on the pedestal, as best you could in the dark anyway. At the end of each night you find yourself entranced by the murder weapon. Perhaps because you admired it so, or perhaps you loved the stories it held. Or maybe you envied it.</span><br /><br /><span class="co4">&gt;Men aren't made for murder. They simply choose it, whatever their motive might be. But a dagger is a weapon. A weapon meant for only one thing. Simply to kill. That purpose alone is what it was born for. It had no choice in its destiny. It simply existed and by doing so immediately became of use to others. Weapons have a simple life. One that will always be fulfilled so long as one fills justified in crafting such things.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;But a man is different. Men aren't merely tools granted a purpose upon their birth. Men have it harder. They must first grow, mature, think about what they're going to do before actually doing it. Men search for their purpose, and sometimes they don't never find it. For many, purpose comes hand-in-hand with death. They only realize their reason of life right before they take the big sleep.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;You weren't sure if you had found your purpose yet. Or if you even had one. Sometimes you argue that your purpose was stolen from you the moment you fell into this magical world. You had no destiny, nothing you'd be remembered by. It hurt, but only slightly. If you weren't going to be remembered as a whole then your legacy would be fragmented and spread across the whole of Equestria. In the hearts of each mare who stumbled around dumbfounded in the late night. Like any monster you would take your place in the fear of others. That would be your memoria. Or so you hoped.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;You break away from your trance and move past the dagger. Heading for the lights, which was a single oil lamp that was low on oil.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;You feel around in the darkness for the tinder box, not remembering exactly where you had placed it. Unlike most things.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;Eventually you find it and strike the match, lighting the lantern.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;The room around you begins to soften and open up. The darkness steps back and bows its head to the light.</span><br /><br /><span class="co4">&gt;You hold the lantern aloft to get a proper vista of your home. It was the same as always. But for some reason you feel as though it kept changing with each day. As if the building around you was slowly withering away. And who knew, it may have been. Time marches on wards as you sit still. Never really going anywhere.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;You sigh, something you often did when home. You enjoy it, so much so you take another deep breath and slowly exhale. It feels good to breath. Breathing was a blessing. Nothing came better to you than the good clean air of home.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;You continue to breath as you move through your home, the light casting away the darkness that dare encroach on your residence.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;It was very natural for you to do this. Rather, it became natural. You love walking through your home, not going anywhere, just walking.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;But this time the ritual is broken.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;Never have you -not- wandered aimlessly around your home. And for something to disturb you was very unpleasant.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;You happened to stop in the living room. A room with high walls and wide spaces. Nothing in the room save for a couch, two chairs, a folding chair, a lounge chair, and a fireplace.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;The fireplace is lit. Strange considering you've never tended to it in all your days, weeks, months, or years living here. So why were flames gayfully dancing in the pit?</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;The flames filled the room with a pleasant autumn red and orange that flickered off the burgundy striped wallpaper. On the walls were shadow-plays of light fighting dark, moving back and forth in a timeless tug-of-war. But you ignore it.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;Your left eye looks to the right and your right does the same, for it could do nothing but follow the left. You see nothing, which troubles you more than pleases.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;Looking to the right, you again see nothing. But... you're sure someone is there in the room with you.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;Or maybe you did see them... and chose to ignore them? For some reason you find yourself afraid. Your breath halts and arms shake. You're no longer able to keep the lantern aloft and drop it by your side.</span><br /><br /><span class="co4">&gt;Suddenly the room became the Sahara as heat bombards you from every direction. As if you were taking an early trip to Hell. The smell of sulfur rudely intrudes into your nose causing you give a disgusting gag. Fire. All was fire as it swirled around you and into you. Heating you to the point you were sure you'd burst into hot burning coals!</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;You buckle over, closing in on yourself like a dying spider. Your tongue hangs ragged from your mouth, any trace of saliva evaporating into the air. You want to burst through your clothes. Drown yourself in the icy arctic waters of the north. Yet you could hardly move.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;Great fiery chains wrap around you and constricted your movements. It was like Great Beelzebub himself sprang out of the rock and wrapped his molten claws around your person.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;And then suddenly it stopped. Just when you were about to submit yourself to the madness of the heat.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;Your panting breath fills the now distilled air and you fall to your hands in knees, still feeling your internal thermometer drop rapidly.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;You look up and for the first time (in a very long time) since your stay in Equestria, you felt fear.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;There were only five things that frightened you. Stingrays, for their affinity with great Satan. The dog in Mr. Pantywaist's yard. Most amphibians. Commitment. And Princess Celestia.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;I'll give you a chance to guess what held your fear at present.</span><br />&quot;Seventeen-sixty. Seventeen-sixty. The mare in the wagon goes by Trixie....&quot;<br /><span class="co4">&gt;You recite yourself a rhyme to calm your nerves. Maybe she didn't notice you yet. But if you kept breathing so harshly you were sure to gain her ire.</span><br />&quot;Thirty-three and thirty-two. Paul has an ox that's blue...&quot;<br /><span class="co4">&gt;You look at the still form sitting in your favorite chair by the fireplace.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;She was massive. Imposing her figure on the world around her. As if gravity itself would bend to the weight of her will alone!</span><br /><br /><span class="co4">&gt;There was no way she could possibly be real. The laws of causality wouldn't allow her to even take her first breath. For nothing warranted her existence. Yet she walked liked normal ponies, flew like birds, created miracles like God. She loved like a woman and hated like a man. She was hot to the touch, yet immensely cold.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;Celestia seemed to fade in and out of reality. As she peacefully sat in your chair you worked on regaining your composure. You were getting used to her presence. Albeit very slowly.</span><br />&quot;Twenty-nine, eighty-two. Three mice in my shoe..&quot;<br /><span class="co4">&gt;Your breathing calms and you no longer feel the heat. Your body is returned back to you and you are granted control again. But you opt to stay perfectly still. You won't even breath. You won't even move your eyelids or blink. But what you would do is rhyme.</span><br />&quot;Seven-hundred and thirty-four. Eight knocks on Heaven's-&quot;<br /><span class="co4">&gt;&quot;I would greatly appreciate it if you stopped that senseless prattling.&quot;</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;A voice rings out that isn't your own causing your blood to freeze white. Only to quickly heat up again and boil.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;That's definitely her. No doubt whatsoever. Though you aren't entirely sure you could trust your own mind, it seemed like instinct. A primal instinct shouting at you that someone was there in the room with you. And that someone's name was larger than life.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;You stand, shaking in the knees. You shiver as you feel that familiar sensation wrack your body. Despite your best efforts, you can't help but feel giddy inside.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;Celestia isn't looking at you. She's quietly gazing into the flickering flames of the fireplace.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;The sight of her makes your heart pound. Like it was tearing through your ribs in order to break itself free from your body. And you'd let it.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;She is very beautiful. A beauty that is sometimes incomprehensible and always understated. No one man, whether he be the most skilled poet or wordsmith can one-hundred percent depict her. She is simply 'above' mere words and thought. Something beyond mortal thinking.</span><br /><br /><span class="co4">&gt;Her beauty makes you want to turn and flee, because you knew her beauty would hold an unstoppable power over you. It was coupled with age old wisdom. The kind your grandmother would only hint at. You can practically -feel- Celestia's life just by standing in her presence.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;It makes you want to cower. And also rush towards her and bring her into your embrace.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;You open your mouth to speak but are interrupted by her shooting her deathly stare at you. You turn away, if you had gazed a moment more you would have drowned in the sheer intensity.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;&quot;Anon the Ripper. Anon short for Anonymous. Full name, unknown. Age, unknown. Blood type, yet to be determined. A 'human' who found his way into our world. An urban legend in some small towns in the countryside. Each one exaggerated and inflated to the point of out right tall tales and lies. No different from a mythical beast. You shouldn't even exist. Yet here you are. Standing before me like a terrified child. I have to say I'm disappointed. I would have thought Canterlot's infamous monster to be more...intimidating.&quot;</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;She looks away, dismissing your existence.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;How dare she?</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;Who does she think she is?</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;Who does she think you are?</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;Well, she has every right. You can't hope to stand up to someone of her caliber.</span><br />&quot;Intimidation is a tactic employed by bullies and barbarians. I am neither of the two. If I am a monster, then I prove the case that we monsters are indeed civilized.&quot;<br /><span class="co4">&gt;Anon, what are you doing? Don't give the God princess any lip!</span><br />&quot;You insult me. My honor is damaged, as well as the honor of all monster kind. We are good people. I can assure you that. But you... you've broken into my home. Sat in my favorite chair. And now impede on my honor. If I am only a monster, what does that make you?&quot;<br /><span class="co4">&gt;You're putting up a front. There's no way you could be this confident in front of her, is there?</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;At least, that's normally the case. But you've always had the knack of faking it til you made it.</span><br /><br /><span class="co4">&gt;Celestia finds herself looking at you again, this time you don't look away.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;To your surprise there was no nefarious intent in her sightseers. There was no longer the stifling feeling of oppression suffocating you. You were free to breath normally and rhythmically.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;&quot;All buildings, persons, items and objects within the realm are mine to subjugate, dominate, and command. Therefor, this chair has been commandeered by the monarchy.&quot;</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;What?!</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;You huff, folding your arms and turning your nose up.</span><br />&quot;To hell with that business. That's my favorite chair and it's going nowhere. Remove yourself from the throne of the great Anon!&quot;<br /><span class="co4">&gt;You shoot a glare at the princess and it is returned ten fold. But you can't back down now. You have to fight for what you believe in. And right now all your belief, faith, and religious fortitude is placed in that single peace of furniture.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;&quot;I will not relinquish the best seat in all Equestria to some lowly murderer who doesn't even have the decency to hide the body. Really, you made it easy for me, Monster. It's a wonder how the guard hadn't found you. But that's the price you pay for a decorative task force.&quot;</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;You tuned her out a long while ago. Now you were trying to wrap your head around how exactly she was sitting in that damned chair. -Your- chair.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;Celestia's horn was now glowing gold and so was something by her side. With her magic she lifted your dagger into the air. Rotating it and cocking her brow as she studied it.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;You grind your teeth, wanting even more to grind them on her big stupid face!</span><br />&quot;That is mine!&quot; you say as threateningly as you could manage.<br /><span class="co4">&gt;However, Celestia isn't phased. She only continues to look over the blade. Sometimes scoffing at its 'crude' craftsmanship</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;&quot;Need I remind you? All buildings, persons, items and objects within-&quot;</span><br />&quot;Enough! Return my dagger and remote yourself from my cathedra!&quot;<br /><br /><span class="co4">&gt;Surprisingly you find it within your self to approach her. But as soon as you take the first step, that terrible heat rushes towards you and collapses your knees. Celestia's sheer will alone throws you to the floor and you hit it hard. You cry out an &quot;Oof!&quot; before rolling over, turning the room upside down.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;She bears down on you with her heat of a billion burning worlds. Her stare is entire planets crumbling and bending to gravity as they are pulverized and consumed by the celestial flames.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;You are motionless. Trapped in the chaos of her pupils.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;&quot;I am not one for games, Monster. I did not come here to play with you.&quot; she says in a stern voice.</span><br />&quot;So why -are- you here, Majesty? Come to kill me? No, had that been the case I would be in shackles and hurried off to your dungeons until my chopping day. Or is it hanging day? Or are your people too soft to actually end the life of another?&quot;<br /><span class="co4">&gt;You begin to squirm, trying to break yourself free of her will. All the while keeping eye-contact with 'Her grace'. She was enjoying watching you struggle. You knew this by the very slight smile that tugged at her lips. It pissed you off.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;&quot;On the contrary. Killing is precisely why I've taken time to walk upon the ground and sift through the endless mounds of garbage in lower Canterlot. The philosophy of death is exactly why I personally took it upon myself to find its most committed agent.&quot;</span><br />&quot;If you've come to flatter me save it for someone who needs it. Besides, what could princess want to know about murder. Nonetheless an immortal one. Get to the point you zounderkite!&quot;<br /><span class="co4">&gt;Your loud mouth earns you an inflammation of the lungs and you cry out to the high ceiling.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;&quot;I've come to you Monster because I feel you can be of use to me. Despite your lowly existence beneath a ruler's hoof. Out of the great benevolence of my own heart I am offering you grander things.&quot;</span><br /><br /><span class="co4">&gt;Celestia then craned her neck downward. Her face came within inches of yours and you were granted a front row seat to the chaos in her eyes.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;There was nothing but insanity evoked by centuries of unending life. After all, what would the idea of death become in the mind of one who could not know it personally? Wouldn't it cease to be the abstract fear that walks among the living?</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;However, you bore yourself with the thought and look away.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;&quot;You seem to be content with clinging to this filth; it is befitting of your kind. You wish to fulfill your role as a monster so that you may never be forgotten. You wish to live on in the hearts of all your victims after your demise. You feel this is your ticket to immortality. Yes?&quot;</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;Celestia is now incredibly close. So close that you can feel the heat of her breath on your slightly open mouth.</span><br />&quot;I must applaud you. Your psychiatric skills are unparalleled. I didn't even have to tell you about my childhood.&quot;<br /><span class="co4">&gt;Sweat begins dripping down your forehead as you shift uncomfortably beneath her. She's still focused on you like a beam of intense sunlight shining in your eyes.</span><br />&quot;So you think you understand me. What of it?&quot;<br /><span class="co4">&gt;&quot;I ask of you only one thing. I am not here to force you.&quot;</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;Celestia's expression softens. At least, you think it does. One thing was for sure though; her lips were now almost pressed up against yours, locking you in a thermal kiss.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;&quot;Become -my- monster. Align yourself with your ruler. Become all that I need of you. I have tasks that only a monster could carry out. I need someone who isn't afraid to get their hooves dirty. Devote yourself to my mission and I will see you satisfied.&quot;</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;Your heart is now beating like a primal drum. Going Pom-pom-pom, pom-pom-pom!</span><br />&quot;What if I were to say no? I can't say I particularly enjoy the idea of becoming someone else's lapdog. Not to mention pretty white princesses. What self-respecting monster would?&quot;<br /><br /><span class="co4">&gt;Celestia pulls away, taking your breath with her.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;The air around you then falls in temperature. Celestia's hold on you softens and you are given your freedom of mobility back.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;&quot;Of course should you refuse, I will eliminate you on the spot. And in the wake of your death, I will erase every trace of you. Every possession of your's and every memory of you. Then I will capture your soul and plunge it into the core of my own affinity. Where you would spend the rest of my days burning. Try and make the right choice. I do not want to be disappointed.&quot;</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;You rise to your feet, somewhat stumbling. Celestia retakes your seat by the fire, which only serves to anger you further.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;It was bad enough that she just waltzed in here, annexing your things. Now she's making you a deal you couldn't possibly refuse!</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;Well, you -could- refuse. Just to spite her. Yeah, that'd show her that not everything bends to her will. But then, who would remember you? All the magnificent deeds you have given the world would be completely snuffed out! No proof of your spectacular existence! All traces denied!</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;Your stomach feels heavy and the hints of a fever begin to over take you.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;This devil has trapped you in her game! It wasn't even fair. You're not even competing on a fair playing field.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;But it's not like she isn't spot on. Allying with her could further your goals; widen your ambition. And there was nothing particularly wrong with using someone to your own gain, right? That's what it'd be. She wouldn't be using you but vice versa.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;You chuckle to yourself as you revel in your triumph in mental gymnastics.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;Celestia doesn't seem to notice this. Instead she continues to observe your dagger. At least she has an appreciation for blades at least.</span><br />&quot;I have decided.&quot; you say aloud.<br /><span class="co4">&gt;You puff your chest out, flexing your muscles and drawing in breath.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;&quot;Have you? Very good then. Your decision?&quot; she replies dismissively.</span><br /><br />&quot;I have decided that I will join you.&quot; you say with an exhale.<br /><span class="co4">&gt;It still feels very good to breath.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;&quot;Excellent. Though it was never your choice to begin with.&quot;</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;Celestia stands and as she does the room around you seems to dwarf.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;Even now Princess Celestia imposes her presence onto all. It really gives you the feeling that this entire world really is her domain.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;You somewhat admire that, though not completely. After all, you have no desire to rule the world. It'd be too much of a hassle for a simple monster like yourself. No, you would rather stick to the pleasant happy life you lead now.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;Celestia moves closer to you, her wings now spread as wide as the sky. Suddenly they wrap around you and you are once again inches away from the princess.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;She's holding you close, so close she could practically smother you if she chose to snuff out your life right here.</span><br />&quot;Is personal space not a concept here in Equestria?&quot;<br /><span class="co4">&gt;She says nothing at first. She's only staring at you. Her wings pull you in closer and presses your face against her's.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;&quot;Listen to me. From this point on you are -my- monster. You belong to me. Everything you are. Your body, your mind, your soul, all objects for me to employ at my leisure. Do you understand?&quot;</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;Celestia's face hardens. The chaotic vortex in her eyes threaten to swallow all you are should you fail to comprehend.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;And to comprehend what exactly? That you practically just signed yourself over as a slave?</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;You think to yourself. That wouldn't entirely be so bad, would it? She was an immortal deity and ruler of an entire country. You could have anything you want. But to be totally her's? The thought disturbed you. You belonged to no one. You belonged to your passion!</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;And yet, you find yourself wanting to accept. The idea of being a tool was appealing. At least for now.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;You were always an indulgent man, Anon. Why not explore this idea to the fullest? At least until you get bored.</span><br /><br />&quot;Fine then. I'll be your tool, play thing, partner or what have you. Consider myself your's to command.&quot;<br /><span class="co4">&gt;Celestia smiled. It was exquisite. A beautiful amalgamation of maleficence, benevolence, and immaculate beauty. Truly she was Elysium itself.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;&quot;Perfect. You will like your new life, I promise you. You have made me a very happy and satisfied mare. My monster.&quot;</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;Within an instant your lips lock with her's and her embrace tightens around your form. Your eyes shoot wide as you struggle to breath and move. But you are trapped. Trapped within a cage of hooves and wings.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;You could feel everything within her with just this one kiss. Her breath, her heart beat, the coursing of her immortal blood in her veins. And most of all, the unending warmth. It all poured into you, flooding your body with an overwhelming sense of peace and pleasantry. It is similar to how a poet compares the wonders of heaven to a single moment in time.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;You feel her tongue invade your mouth as she pushes deeper into the kiss, tightening her hold on you.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;You begin to lose yourself in her, wander if you'd ever be able to resurface. Soon enough you would drown within her and never see her day ever again.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;There is an attempt to pull yourself away, but you find you aren't strong enough. Her strength far exceeds your own and you are completely powerless.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;Your life is being drained from you. She is literally taking you from yourself and capturing it within her!</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;Then you realize you can't breath. You begin struggling as best you could but to no avail. Your eyes roll into the back of your head and all is darkness as you collapse into her. Your body goes limp and your consciousness is locked away for the time being.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;Celestia pulls away from you with a loud 'pop' and she gasps for breath. She still maintains her devilish smile as she looks you over, pleased with herself.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;&quot;There. Now that that's out of the way....&quot;</span></div></div>




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