Waking up has to be the worst part of my everyday life, I am simply not a morning person. If someone were to try to force me out of bed they would get a nice sized fist in the face along with more than a few profanities before I would ever get up. The very simple fact that I am extremely hung over from that party last night made this already not-so-pleasant experience an absolute living hell.
Despite how much I hate waking up, there is always my nemesis, sunlight, shining into my eye like the absolute bitch it is through open curtains that I forgot to close last night in my drunken haze. I groan and shift the other direction to face away from the burning gaze of the sun in a poor attempt to prevent the massive headache I was about to get.
Only I didn't realize how close to the edge of my bed I was as I rolled off and hit the floor hard, sending a jolt of pain through my skull, forming the migraine I was hoping to avoid.
"Son of a bitch..." I managed to groan as I poorly attempted to get myself out of the tangled bunch of blankets, only to fall pitifully to the floor again.
"Fuck it, I am sleeping on the floor, bed are fucking overrated anyways. Who in hell needs a nice, soft comfortable bed when you have a bad, hard uncomfortable floor." I remarked sarcastically to myself.
As I get "comfortable" on the floor I untangle one of my hands to nurse my aching forehead, only instead of my hand something hard hit it instead, sending more pain through my already aching head. At that point I couldn't help but let out a cry of anger, pain, and frustration that sounded a lot like...
"ARRRRGGGGHHAA!!! WHAT THE FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU-!!!"
The only facts that managed to cut myself short of cursing my skull out was, 1, it was only making my migraine even worse, 2, other people were also in this building trying to sleep and I wasn't a goddamn hypocrite, 3, it wasn't going to win my any points with my landlord who was living right next door, and 4, I was goddamn shocked horrified as I saw that MY GODDAMN RIGHT HAND WAS MISSING!!! I Lift my other hand to grasp my mutilated one only to find it was in the same condition.
I stared in shock at my mutilated hands for several seconds before realizing that they were not actually mutilated at all, there was no sight of blood anywhere and I could have sworn that my hands were just fine yesterday, there was no way that they could be chopped off and healed this quickly. My shock and horror immediately turning into confusion, I looked at my "hands" a little closer, I noticed that both my "hands" were actually replace by solid blocky objects and arms were completely covered with a pale white hair coat.
The realization hit me like a ton of bricks…
Ignoring my hangover induced headache, I struggled out of my covers and find that the rest of my body confirmed my suspicions, a pale white coat covered the entirety of my body under the clothing that I had been wearing when I had collapse on my bed last night. My legs were bent at odd angles and my feet were replaced by the same blocky objects at the end of my arms. Worst of all, I had a tail.
All that I care about was getting a mirror, now. I stumble to my feet and tried to walk to the closet mirror, only to trip a second later and fall on my face as my legs got tangled in my pants. Struggling out of my pants I get up and start slowly making my way over to the mirror to prevent making anymore of a fool of my self. As I finally make it to the mirror I stop to take a good look at myself, my reaction in a nutshell was pretty much...
"Oh you have to be fucking kidding me!"
I was a cartoon pony from my girlfriend's favorite little kiddy show, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, I had no fucking doubt about it now. Those ridiculously oversized eyes, the fucking super happy and harmonious colors, the seemingly pointless butt tattoos, ALL THAT JAZZ!!! My build appeared to be slender, my entire coat was pale white, my eyes were their normal color blue, my frazzled hair... er frazzled mane and tail were icy blue. My pointless butt tattoo, or whatever they are called, was a lightning bolt, how typical. OH! Hey, to top it off, what are those two lumps under my shirt? 10 dollars says those are wings! I struggle out of my shirt to reveal a pair of completely undersized wings, I find the muscle and extend them to their pitiful length. Well, what do ya know, they are. I stared at myself in the mirror, coming to one conclusion.
This was a dream.
I was pretty sure this was a dream, there was no fucking way this could be happening, soon the other self I see in the mirror will grow vampire teeth and come out of the mirror to brutally murder me any second now and I will wake up.
...
...
...
I'm waiting...
...
...
...
Still nothing?
...
...
…
Well shit, time to do this the hard way...
I walked as carefully as I could to the nightstand next to my bed in order to avoid falling on my face, again. Opening the drawer I found my bowie knife inside. Unconsciously, I somehow pick up the knife with my hoof and drew it from it's sheath and proceeded to stab it into my arm... What the fuck was I thinking, seriously?
"GAHAHAHHHA, FUCK!!!" I Screamed as I threw the knife away and clutched my bleeding arm, immediately regretting my irrational decision.
OW FUCK THAT HURT!!! Okay, I know I have made some pretty bad decisions before, going to that party last night was one of them, but that just took the fucking cake. Why in hell did I think I was going to accomplish anything though that? The only things I had learned from that this was DEFINITELY NOT A DREAM, I'm a FUCKING IMPULSIVE IDIOT, and I could have figured that out though a simpler and a lot less painful method in which didn't require a blood sacrifice, a rather big one at that. Well shit, now I have to do something about the bleeding.
I turn around and start limping my way to the bathroom, only to stop when I hear someone... slowly and deliberately clapping behind me. I spin my head around to face whoever was obviously mocking me and see something that immediately made me forget that I stabbed myself, I jump and rotate my body to face the mocker, freezing in terror from what I saw before me.
This... thing I saw before me was a terrifying monstrosity that looked like it was made by Dr. Frankenstein himself. It was made out of many different animal parts and had a very crazed look in its eyes, with what I assumed was an amused face, it was using its two different hands to slowly and mockingly clap for my earlier dramatic performance.
"Wow, I mean WOW!" It suddenly said, much to my surprise, its claps growing faster and grin growing larger.
"I mean really, that was just plainly beautiful overreaction!" It mockingly complimented as it started to chuckle, its claps becoming louder and faster.
"I mean REALLY, I know humans tend to overreact in stupid and spectacular ways, but that literally just struck gold! You, Marcus, are now the king of overreacting! To think that had nothing to do with me! Hehehehe!!! That was all you, buddy! I mean WOW, you could have just pinched yourself or something like that, but you went full out and grabbed a knife! I have to give you points for determination! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!" It managed to say before falling over laughing.
It clicked its fingers once and I felt a small weight suddenly made it's presence known on my head. Shaking it off I noticed that it was a small crown that was labeled "King of Overreaction." I would have been a little ticked off at this thing's mockery if I wasn't so utterly terrified right now. I was slowly starting to back off in order to make a run for the door, I was not going to stick around and let this thing eat me or kill me in any horrific fashion.
Unfortunately for me, it noticed and I found myself unable to move as all my hooves suddenly sunk into the ground. I struggle helplessly as I try to break free, only giving up as soon as my old friend pain made its sudden reappearance in my wounded leg. Fuck you pain, fuck you.
"Leaving so soon, Marcus? Why, I haven't even gotten the chance to talk to you." It said faking a hurt look.
It started to walked over to me, causing me to resume my struggle fruitlessly, for sure this thing intended to do something horrible to me and I don't want any of it. As I began considering chewing my own legs off, it stopped a few feet in front of me and its hand approached my wounded leg. I clenched my eyes shut and waited for the gruesome death this thing would inflict upon me, except it didn't, it simply snapped its fingers once again in front of my wounded leg. My leg instantly became wrapped in bandaged with white wrappings that were mockingly labeled "King of Overreactions", stopping the bleeding entirely.
I looked up at my supposed executioner who wore an amused expression, he simply stood silently in front of me as if waiting for a response. So it didn't want to kill me, otherwise it would have ripped me limb from limb by now. That or it was a cat toying with prey until it get bored, the cat being it and the prey being me.
"Well?" It asked impatiently.
I really had one response for this and it contained pretty colorful language, if this thing was toying with me, I definitely am not going to give it a good time.
"W-what the fuck are you? Who the f-fuck are you? How the fuck do you know my name? What t-the fuck are you doing in my house?" I try to say with as much dignity as possible, my stuttering in fear betrayed me however as it looked more amused.
"I see, you're afraid. As normal as that is, there is really nothing to be afraid of. I wouldn't hurt a fly..." It started while he clicked its fingers in order to make a fly that had been buzzing around his head combust into flames, that did not help my confidence.
"To answer your first question of "What the fuck are you?" I am a Draconequus, and a god chaos. As for "Who the fuck are you?" You may refer to me as Discord. As for "How the fuck do you know my name?"... You really need to lay off the f words... It is because we've met at the party last night. The rest of your questions, however, are completely irrelevant."
I had no idea what a Draconequus was, but a god of chaos didn't sound good, especially one named "Discord" of all things. However, what worried me the most is that it claims to have met me at the party last night, and I hardly remember a thing from that night.
"I don't remember much from last night, but I definitely don't remember meeting a f-freak like you." I again try to say with dignity, and again my stuttering betrays me.
"Oh yes, you wouldn't remember me now, let me fix that." It says as he transforms into a 21-year-old man with long black hair, yellow eyes, cocky smile.
Wait a second... I know that face.
That was w hat a memory suddenly came back to me.
***
Man, this party sucks, the only thing that would possibly make this fun is if I was either drunk off my ass or high to the point of near death, even then that would only bring it from this as a horrible party to a stupid party.
I look around the room as I watch the idiots all around me "having fun". I guess this is what people call fun these days, dance to horrible music, screaming like an idiot as they try to sing said song, see how much beer you can chug in one go, and have little contests on how long and how much alcohol it will take in order to dissolve your liver and leave you passed out. Oh, have I mention how much fun passing out is? You get to wake up with a massive headache and guess on what monstrosities are drawn on you face. Oh and don't forget to check to see which one of these whores will be the mother of your child!
Why the hell did I even come to this shit fest? Oh, right, because my "friends" basically kidnapped me and dragged me all the way over here to celebrate our graduation from college, despite my girlfriend Sarah's opinion. With the way they dragged me out of the apartment I wouldn't be surprised if she had called the police to report a kidnapping, hell at this point I would have applauded her for doing so, but no such luck so far.
So now I sit alone, fighting away all the whores and rejecting any and all offers for a drink as they may as well be spiked with something nasty. Well, that was until some other guy, who I assumed was a loser like the others, comes over and sits next to me. He looked like he was somewhere around my age, had long black hair (Cut your hair you fucking hippy), and a very cocky smile, we haven't even talked and I hated him already.
"You hate this party too, hu?" He asks suddenly, making me do a double take on whether or not I hate him.
Holy shit, someone who can relate to me or just another douchebag who was paid by my "Friends" to get me drunk? Lets find out!
"Yeah, kind of blows, I guess some people have different definitions of fun. Mine doesn't involve listening to shit music or getting extremely drunk and become someone's plaything, whether or not that means becoming a sex toy or a sketchpad for someone's perverted fantasy is irrelevant. Anyways, how could you tell?" I reply coolly, testing whether this guy was serious.
"Yeah, I can see what you mean there, I really don't see the point in numbing the brain so you have more courage to do stupid things and so others can take advantage of you. As for how I could tell, you are avoiding alcohol and these slutty girls like the plague and attempting your best to isolate yourself from everyone else, kind of like me. I really can't stand these... people."
Wow, this guy actually doesn't sound as stupid as I first though he was, he sounds pretty cool.
"So what brings you to this horrible excuse of a party?" I asked.
"To be honest I was looking for someone, I guess you could say a friend, haven't found him yet though. I guess he is pretty good at blending in with the crowd. So, what brings you here?" He asks.
"One of my idiot friends is the host of this party, they dragged me here so they could get me drunk I suppose, I've never been a big drinker and I guess they wanted to see what I would be like a blundering idiot. Not so sorry to disappoint them." I replied
"Ah, I see. Well, now that you have mentioned it, I actually brought my own bottle of alcohol. My friend warned me that the drinks they served here were a bit, dissatisfactory, so I decided to bring one of my own and share it with him. It is one of my own brew and haven't quite gotten the chance to taste test it yet, so I was kind of wondering, would you like to have a taste of it?" He asks
Well, shit, right when I thought he wasn't a douchebag. I guess that is what I get for hoping…
"No thanks, I had plenty of requests like that, I am not an idiot." I coolly reply.
"If it make you feel any better I'll drink it first." He offered.
Okay, maybe he isn't a douchebag... I guess I may as well, if he drinks it first I guess I can wait and see what it does to him before I take the risk myself... Fuck it, I am bored to death of this party anyways and one drink won't hurt, what is the worst that can happen?
"Alright, as long as I can hold my own glass and you drink first." I agree.
"Deal." He replies with his cocky smile producing two shot glasses and an unmarked bottle.
Lovely, I am regretting my decision already, but no turning back now.
I inspect the shot glasses for any hidden trick, but didn't find any. The hipster hair guy then proceeds to fill both glasses with a clear liquid that could almost be mistaken for water, vodka perhaps? We both pick up our shot glasses and he raises his.
"To truth and accepting who we truly are." He toasted, much to my confusion, as he downed his drink, giving a little shudder as he finishes.
"Ah, it tastes good, but a wee bit on the strong side." He remarks.
After a minute of my drinking partner having no side-effects from the drink I down my own, much to my own regret. I nearly spit it out, he wasn't fucking kidding about it being strong, this crap burned! The mere fact that I wasn't a seasoned drinker didn't exactly help. I swallow and start to cough a bit, no scratch that, I start to cough violently.
"You okay there buddy?" He asks with a laugh.
"Yeah, I'm okay. Turns out you were not kidding about it being strong." I remarked.
"Yeah, I'll have to work on that... Well, now that is over and done with, tell me a little bit more about yourself." He requested suddenly.
"Hmm... Well, where do I start? My name is Marcus, I have lived here in California for almost all my life, living with my parents until I got an job as a bartender and an apartment up in San Diego..." I replied without question.
Wait, why was I telling him this?
"Interesting... did your parents adopt you?" He then asked.
"Yes, they did actually." I yet again answered without question.
What the hell? Why am I telling this to some random stranger? Why am I starting to feel dizzy?
"Hmm, very interesting, now when was your birthday?" He then asked
"That would be the 14th of March, 1994." I answered yet again.
Now I am getting very dizzy.
"Yes, very interesting, one more question, do you remember anything from before?
"What the hell was in that stuff?" I finally asked clutching my head.
"I'll take that as a no, anyways, thank you for speaking to me but now I have to go. Got things to do, little time to do it." He said with a smile as he got up and begins to walk away.
"Wait... didn't you say you were looking for a friend?" I asked before he left.
He turns and smiles at me creepily, his eyes glowing yellow suddenly. Okay, I was definitely drugged.
"Oh, don't worry, I found him. Try to get home safely." He said.
He clicks his fingers and disappeared from existence. I can't hardly remember anything after that besides for getting home and going to sleep.
***
"It was you, you did this to me." I concluded.
Discord smirked as I finally responded.
"Okay, you've had your fun, now turn me back. I have far to many things to do today." I demanded.
“I can't... well actually, that is a lie... I can, I just won't." He replied.
"What!? but why!? I have a job interview today and I can't go out like this!"
"Because you simply don't belong." He answered, examining his hands and ignoring my pleas.
"What?" I asked confused.
"The brew is quite interesting isn't it. Not only does it force the drinker to tell the truth no matter the question asked, but it also reveals the true nature and appearance of drinker whoever it may be." He continued, confusing me even more.
"What are you talking about?" I demanded.
"You'll need figure the truth out for yourself in time, and after you figure out the truth then you will need to find a way to accept it. After that I can finally finish my job and we can both go home. But in all honesty, take your time, I quite like it here. So much chaos, everywhere! I mean I don't even have to cause it, I can just watch as these pitiful humans destroy each other with no work and effort! Honestly, I should start taking my vacations here!" He replied cheerfully, causing more confusion in me and ensuing the return of my dreaded headache.
"I don't understand..." I say using my hoof to nurse my now aching head, carefully this time.
"Of course you don't, but you will eventually... Oh my look at the time..." Discord said looking down at a watch I knew wasn't there before.
"Well it looks like my time is up here, I have other things to do, little time to do them. I am sure you understand, anyhow, cheerio!" He then said with a mock British accent and a snap of his fingers, once again disappearing from existence.
"...And remember, I will be watching." Discord's voice says in my head, kind of reminding me of a certain game I used to play.
Soon after I found that I was now free from the floor and was able to move again.
Well, this has been an eventful and absolutely fucking confusing morning. I wake up as a pony, stab myself believing that it was all a dream (believing that somehow I would magically wake up by causing myself bodily harm like the fucking impulsive idiot I am), was visited by what may be the devil himself, told by said devil that he drugged me last night at the party and turned me into this... pony, and then said devil rambled on about how I "don't belong" and that "I must figure out the truth myself" and how I then must "accept it". At this point, I am wondering what the hell else could possibly go wrong?
Wait... I remember thinking something similar to that during the party...
"Marcus, it's Sarah are you home?"
Oh, fuck my life...