//------------------------------// // The Land of Confusion // Story: The Land of Confusion // by Nugget //------------------------------// An old stallion sat on a chair inside a cold concrete room, underneath the dim light of a hanging, disk-shaped lamp. Gazing out in front of him, all he saw was a metal table, a tinted window, and a steel door. He doesn’t quite remember how he got there, but he does know his head hurts. Moaning from his throbbing headache, he tried to reach up and scratch his head. Immediately, he discovered each forehoof was locked to the chair by their own hoofcuffs. Bound around his wrists, both offered little to no room for him to move. At best, all he could do was squirm and rattle in his chair. Other than that, he was trapped there as the criminal he was. “Oh! You’re awake! Good!” Somepony spoke, grabbing the attention of the prisoner. An interrogator emerged from the corner of the room and appeared under the light, shaking his head in disapproval. He stood at the opposite end of the table, wearing black armor with a golden badge stamped on the front plate. “Hey!” the guard shouted, watching the stallion dip his head. “HEY!” he shouted again, slamming his forehooves on the table in front of him. “Will you look at me for just a moment?!” The stallion held his head down, ignoring the guard’s order. “No?” the guard said, offended by the old stallion’s insubordination. “Seriously?! You can’t?! Figures!” The guard threw his hooves up in the air out of frustration. “Gah!” He pointed at the prisoner. “You’re about as daft as the rest of them anyways.  Never willing to listen to others while you feed yourself with your own worthless words!” The interrogator then chuckled to himself, “You’re in luck though. I solved that problem by gagging your mouth. Now all you must do is listen to me. After all, you have two ears and only one mouth. Certainly, somepony should have taught you to use them proportionally!” The old stallion tried to move his mouth around, however he found the taste of cloth to be unpleasant. Groaning to himself, he glared back at the guard with anger in his eyes. He didn’t like being tied up, but there was nothing the old stallion could do about it. He’s stuck there unless the interrogator or some other guard came to free him. “So,” the guard raised a hoof to his chin, “I bet you’re wondering how you got here? How you’re bound to that chair in this, sort of bland room? Simple, we found you while you were drunk, waited until you passed out, arrested you, took you here, strapped you there, and waited for you to wake up!” … “You’re looking at me funny.” The stallion had his head tilted towards the side, holding a fierce stare at the guard. He wasn’t amused by how easily he was caught and handled. He figured the authorities would have placed him in a cell first, so he could wake up in a bed and not a in a chair. He then groaned, letting out a long snort. He shuffled his mouth around, still tasting the bland texture of cloth. “What?” The guard mistook his actions. “Were you expecting some elaborate scheme? That all of this is a part of some massive plot beyond what’s going on in this room?” He walked over towards the stallion’s side and placed a hoof on his shoulder, “Whelp, sorry to disappoint you, but that’s not the reality here. No, it’s a bit more straightforward.” The interrogator licked the bottom of a forehoof before using it to shine his badge. “We, the authorities, have been watching you for quite some time, studying your habits, and learning what kind of pony you are; The racist, self-obsessed, ignorant pony that you are. Oh, yeah. We know.” What do they know? The old stallion asked himself, remaining about as still as he could be in his chair. Only his brown eyes moved, observing the guard walking in circles around the room. He orbited the table, occasionally passing behind the stallion before reemerging in the light. “We know what you like to do,” the guard said with a deep, disgusted tone. “It’s sick and disheartening. We know about the society you are a part of and how they tend to spread hate and bigotry upon other ponies, often ending in a violent conflict sparked by two different viewpoints.” He slammed a forehoof down on the table while he pointed to him with the other. His voice strained, “Meanwhile, you would slip into the background and pretend to have no part of it whatsoever! You would lie about who you really are while trying to pass of as a normal, everyday pony.” “Ugg!” the guard groaned, shaking his head with disfavor. He considered him to be a jerk. In his view, the old stallion was a no good, lowlife piece of scum. The guard assumed he had crawled out from the worst of Equestria’s society, the ponies wishing to tear down the foundations making the Kingdom as strong and unified as it is today. That’s a reason why he joined the guard, to help combat against those spreading hate and dismay on the streets. He loved Equestria, it’s princesses, and it’s ponies. Thus, the guard swore he would do anything and everything to keep the peace and unity strong for others. If it meant studying the habits of the old stallion for weeks, then he’d say it was well worth it. Besides, the guard did find out about how much of a fraud the stallion was. “Well sorry, it didn’t fool us!” the integrator proclaimed. “You’re under arrest for general conspiracy to commit an offence against the throne and citizens of Equestria. As their leader, you spread hate like a disease upon those who seem to agree with you. You feel as if what you’re saying was right because some others agree upon the aspect of what you teach. However, you failed to realize the overlaying principle of love and tolerance Equestria has maintained for centuries.” The guard walked up to the stallion and stared directly into his eyes. “We simply can’t let that fall because of ponies like you.” The old stallion tried to use a back leg to kick him in the chest, but found his attempt meaningless since his legs were tied up as well. Grunting and huffing into his gag, the old stallion thrashed and shook his entire body upon the chair. He tried to do what he could to inflict some sort of harm upon the guard, but only found himself wiggling in his seat. “You’re squirming like we are going to kill you soon for your beliefs,” the guard remarked, thinking the stallion is panicking. “That you’re so far from the idea of peace that your existence isn’t necessary anymore. Well, you can rest easy when I say no blood will be spilled. We won’t kill you since you’re already suffering from your own life as it is.” The stallion stopped thrusting his body around, giving up on his attempt to hit the guard. If he wasn’t aware of it before, now he definitely knew he was bound there. The old horse felt the iron cuffs rubbing into his fur. Pinching his skin, the metal left an unpleasant pressure upon his arms and legs. To prevent further harm to himself, the old stallion once again sat still and just stared at the guard with hate painted upon his face. Meanwhile, the interrogator continued his speech, not affected by the stallion’s actions, “Like we said, you spread hate and disharmony like a disease before using the confusion and conflict to your advantage.” Shaped like ponies, the guard pulled out two animal crackers and placed them on the table. “You create a land of confusion and deception, making those believe in ideologies that divide ponies from each other.” He placed a hoof on the two the crackers and slid them away from each other. “Then, once they are separated,” he took a forehoof and smashed both pony crackers to dust, “You swoop right in and crush them with the overwhelming authority you possess. It’s a smart tactic, nevertheless, but comes with a hefty price.” The guard shook his head, “You’ve lost the idea of what love and care is all about. Within your grab for power, by using the nature of ignorance and bigotry, you’ve sacrificed your own will to care about others in general.” He pointed at what remained of those animal crackers, “Now, you’re selective, only choosing to address and comfort those who agree with you. As for the rest, you couldn’t care less about them. They’re different from you! So, obviously their ways, views, and beliefs are all wrong! They must be removed, gone--or worse--killed.” The old stallion just sat there in silence. Huffing in and out with rage. He wasn’t taking any word the guard said seriously. He was still infuriated by the fact he was bound up and gagged. He had no opportunity to speak out! He had no chance to say anything back to the guard! All he could do was remain quiet and let his anger boil. “Don’t you get it?” the interrogator asked before he let out a small chuckle to himself. “Oh, wait, no you don’t!” He then waved a hoof out, “It’s simple. Who cares! You shouldn’t be wasting your time with all this nonsense. It’s pointless and senseless in the end. Why should we fight all the time? Why should we pin ourselves against each other when all it does spew out hate like a toxic sludge? It’s counterproductive.” The old stallion remained quiet while the guard sat down on a chair across from him. They were now eye-to-eye with each other, and they could both see how the other was trying to convey a message by his expressions alone. The guard only wanted peace between themselves and showed how soft his eyes were upon him. Meanwhile, on the other side of the table, the old stallion threw a deep, hateful stare back at the guard, showing him how much anger and despise was built up within him. The interrogator then tried to sympathize with the old horse. He spoke in a clear, calm manner. “Look, the only way a society can advance itself is when they are united,” the guard placed both of his hooves together, “Working under a common purpose to better their own lives by helping their fellow members out. When they do so, they are a team.” He crossed one hoof over the other and held it firm. “Equestria is already one giant team of ponies unified under one banner. We’ve already had our struggles in the past. Heck, if you remember anything from the history taught to you, those old fights almost froze us to death from the wendigos.” The stallion drew his eyes down in hindsight. He remembered those old tales being taught to him when he was in school, about how three friends from three separate pony races bond together before they almost froze to death. However, their unity seemed to spark magic powerful enough to break them out of the ice and destroy the wendigos. They’ve never returned since. The guard nodded his head. “Yeah, that’s right. We need to keep the peace in order to prevent their return,” he confirmed. “Otherwise, if your plans succeed and every single pony acts with hatred, bickering and arguing with each other, then it would be the end to all of society. We would all freeze up, never make any progress, and then let nature itself wipe us out. That’s how powerful our hate can be. It can kill us in the end.” The interrogator got out of his seat and walked over to the old stallion’s side. Raising a forehoof, he took off the gag from the prisoner’s mouth. Immediately, the criminal breathed a sigh of relief. The cloth was finally out of his mouth! He didn’t have to taste its dry texture anymore! Also, he could now speak freely. “So, the choice is yours,” the guard offered. “You can repent your ways and conform to harmony, thus setting yourself free from this room, or you can stay true to yourself and never change, thus letting your own self rot for the rest of your life in jail.” He walked back over to the opposite end of the table. The guard stared directly at him and asked, extending a hoof out, “So what’s it going to be?” The prisoner sighed. He knew what he still was at the end of the day, and he couldn’t bear to expect such kindness right in front of him. He was still mad, upset about the situation. He wasn’t willing to cope with it any longer. The old stallion picked his head back up and said with a firm tone in his voice, “Screw you.” The guard turned his head away, not believing the fact the prisoner just refused his own freedom. How could someone stay the way they are when all they do is hurt others in the end? Why do they all go on living their lives with hate and vengeance guiding their actions? Can’t we all just get along in harmony? The interrogator had enough with the old stallion. As he began to walk out of the room, he turned back and looked directly at him with sorrow in his eyes. He didn’t want to leave him behind, but there wasn’t any other thing he could do. He gave him a choice, but the prisoner refused. “Alright then, that’s your decision.” The guard slammed the steel door behind him. There was now another prisoner like him in the penitentiary.