Sanity Cracking
The word he had whispered, he had formed and he had thought flowed from his throat like the rushing of a tidal wave, ringing around the seemingly empty but trashed apartment like a freight train.
“No, no, no, no, no!”
That cold, hard, seductive and yet offending voice chuckled loudly, belching and spitting out a horrid laugh that destroyed Jonathan's mantra in seconds, silencing the human with ease.
You think you have a choice in the matter, Jonathan my dear? Oh, it has already begun, there is no stopping it now.
Jonathan began to crawl, shards of glass stabbing into his hands, blood welling along the floor but he didn't care. All that mattered was out, out of this nightmare, out of this horror show, out of this sick, twisted world that spoke of only pain and suffering and hidden monsters.
He got only a few feet to the front door, the tears now falling thickly once more, nose dribbling and sweat and blood intermingling before he was yanked backwards with a horrified scream that punctured the still air.
He slammed hard into the wooden back of the sofa, sliding down it to rest on the floor, head bowed down onto his chest which rose and fell jaggedly, tears dripping off the end of his nose.
His scream of terror and pain, of twisted limbs and a tortured mind must have attracted some attention for just as he gave up, just as he succumbed to the horrible realization that this was it, that he would surely die here, alone and yet with the company of a monster, faint footsteps began to echo outside of his apartment.
Silence. Dead silence filled his destroyed, desecrated room as the footsteps grew closer and closer, Jonathan lifting his head to stare hopefully at the door, mind pushing the worries of the unfortunate silence to the back of his mind.
The footsteps stopped quite suddenly, leaving a dense trail of sound that issued from the outside of his door before the white, smeared wooden front door began to groan and shriek open, the sound spinning around the apartment.
A thin, frail elderly women with greying, twisted hair, a deep wrinkled face and concealing black glasses peered into the room, her overly large dress pooling around the floor with its multiple shades of green.
As her gaze swept around the room, as she began to tremble and quiver at the chaos and the destruction she saw, a cold wind bellowed from the bathroom, smashing though the bedroom door and barrelled straight towards the old woman.
Jonathan felt it, the merest traces of the crushing power as it whistled past him, raising his head higher to call out a warning but it was simply too late.
The last he saw of the women, the last he saw of the last human being he would see was a whipping dress and exposed ankles as she was sent careering out of the doorway to land somewhere with a sickening, bone-crunching thud that made him shiver in revulsion, bile rising in his throat at the awful sound.
The front door slammed shut with a resounding crack, last true traces of hope fleeing the destroyed human as he watched his one area of salvation close with a click.
The voice spoke up once more, in an aggravated tone now, displeased but not truly angered, just irritated.
You really want to leave that much, eh? Well, I'll grant you that wish if you ask it of me.
Jonathan forced his head back upwards, bruises already forming along his skin, blood sluggishly oozing out of his numerous lacerations as he shakily, very shakily and with a fear and a torture that spoke of the darkest horrors, the worst experiences, spoke up in a destroyed voice.
“Let me...l-”
Pardon?
Once more, more strongly he spoke up, wincing as his own voice scraped against his wounded throat, forcing him to stutter.
“L-let me leav-”
What was that?
Jonathan shuddered, tears leaking out of his eyes as he closed them, speaking up in a strong voice that tore his throat like a bears claws.
“Let. Me. Leave.”
The soft chuckling returned before it morphed once more into full blown cackles that tore apart the house, pens and paper, pottery and pans, cutlery and crockery flying around the room as if alive, smashing and crashing into each other.
Soon enough the laughter died down, the objects hitting the floor with metallic thuds, hard bangs and resounding gongs as the force upon them was relinquished. Silence enveloped the room, total and utter silence that allowed Jonathan to hear his heart beat loudly before a soft, whispering voice spoke up in front of him, filled with unrestrained malice, unquestionable hate and a dark, stinking evil that dispelled any ideas of kindness or charity, hope or reason.
His sanity bordered on fleeing as he listened closely to what the voice had to say.
Remember me Jonathan, remember what I can do, where your allegiances belong. Remember my gifts, my guiding hand. Remember my wrath and the pain you feel, for if you go against me, if you attempt to double cross me, I will eradicate you and every creature around you from the face of the planet...
...I have waited far, far too long for this. Thousands upon thousands of years trapped in desolate cold, it really puts things into perspective. My patience is already worn thin and taut, do not attempt to ripple the pond, my friend, lest you wake the big fishes...
...Remember me, for my name is Discord, God of Chaos, Lord of Mischief and soon to be ruler of the world. A thousand years, burdened on your shoulders. I will be with you Jonathan, I will see what you see. I pray you do not fail me, for your own sake...
...and now, as for your wish, here you go. You are going to be going now, just not somewhere you would like to be. Goodbye my dear, or rather, arrivederci!
Jonathan rested his head down, tears falling harder and faster then ever, the malice and the hate freezing his blood, chilling his core and his soul. The breath hitched in his throat, a lump of icy fear settling in his stomach as sweat began to dance across his face, his eyes opening to gaze at the destroyed remains of his home for what he believed to be the very last time. Inside, he felt such pain, not from his injuries but from his fear and his shock and his uttermost failure at freeing himself, at emerging victorious.
His world was crashing and right now, inside of his body, he was crashing too. His heart was beating slower and slower now, as if slowing down after a mile long jog, only to keep slowing and slowing and slowing like car on its last legs.
The light dazzled his eyes but he no longer cared, his aching body and destroyed mind only intent on witnessing the sun, his apartment and himself for one last time.
Even that was denied.
Just as his eyes began to roam, to watch and to experience his last joys, a ghostly, monstrous, mismatched figure sprang towards him, simply appearing from the air itself and leaping towards Jonathan's limp body. The outline of the beast was a faded white colour, the inside was merely a fizzling, almost heat-smear-esque fuzzy image that wobbled and vibrated.
He didn't have time to scream, nor to flinch, nor to jump, nor to distinguish what it was that leapt at him or even whisper a final, dead pray to the air before the sudden, hidden, misty beast lunged towards him and enveloped him in a hearty embrace, sinking deeply into Jonathan, filling him with a burning sensation like molten lead being poured through his body. The foggy, shifting, cloudy monster sank into him, deeper and deeper until the last wisp of white smoke vanished, Jonathan's eyes suddenly sinking lower and lower as a strong, powerful feeling of exhaustion settled upon him.
He tried to rise up, to flee and finally, finally leave the room and the madness it contained but something, a nagging, abusive voice in the very corner of his mind told him to stop, to lay down, to sleep and to accept his fate. To give in, to submit to the drowsiness and to give up on all hopes of being free.
Somewhere in his mind Jonathan realized he should care, he should fight back.
But he didn't. He couldn't.
Nowhere was safe now, his last sanctuary, his last, great stronghold had been taken and bent to its evil will.
It was in his mind and it could see him like it had never seen him before. And he could see it.
And it was terrible.
His eyes closed with a resounding slick, his mind whirring down and down, his body letting out a deep, pent-up breath. The sweat cooled on his skin, the blood crusted, the mouth hung loose and limp. The first bunged up, rattling snore escaped him.
Followed by the sound of malicious laughter.
[.]
Celestia woke with a rapid pant, body bolting upwards, wings exploding outwards, horn blazing yellow light and skin covered in a glistening sheen of sweat as she cast her nervous gaze around her still darkened bedroom.
Soft moonlight coated her room in a faint, feathery white glow that barely illuminated anything at all, instead casting deeper shadows across every single piece of furniture.
She inspected her room meticulously, eyes roaming from her writing desk, to her rather large, rather obnoxious wardrobe, to her bathroom door, to her bedside table.
It was a quaint room, the solar ruler wanting nothing more then a nice cosy room to relax in without the constant reminder of her duties. She had chosen only the most humble furniture, apart from her wardrobe which one Rarity insisted was a must have, to make sure she did not grow too egotistical, to remind her guards and sometimes herself that she was not above them.
She had been woken by what she thought had been cold laughter, a laugh that she recognised all to well. He was in the garden though, collecting bird droppings and standing tall over the foliage of her beloved castle plantation. He could not be here, not now. Not ever again.
She had seen it, last time, in his golden eyes that once sparkled with soft mirth. Something in him had broken, something that could not be replaced. She had thought that perhaps she were mistaken, when he had not killed, nor injured any creature but one look at his horrified statue, the terror on his face had changed that.
Discord was never scared, never. Which led to only one conclusion.
He was acting, but why?
Celestia allowed herself a sigh of both relief and weariness, having finished her inspection of her room and finding nothing, no signs of danger or entry but also having that draconequus on her mind for too, too long. He was a bad penny, always showing up where he was not needed, where he was most invaluable.
She sighed once more, a sound born of exhaustion and interrupted sleep, convincing herself that the matter at hoof could wait till morning, that her sleep was needed in order to remain fresh, brisk and caring for her beloved country.
She resorted to hiding back under her soft duvet, pulling it above her body as she slid back down into the heated depths of her her bed with a gentle pull of faint yellow magic. She sighed slightly, feeling the warmth of the blanket wrap around her, feeling her head mould into the pillows, feeling her wings laying limply at her sides.
Feeling the gentle dribble of some cold, viscous liquid settle and dampen the coat of her back.
Feeling the faint, warm, squishy body of something laying beside her.
Her eyes that had once begun to close, her mind that had once begun to shut down again, her body that had begun to surrender to the warmth again was suddenly flooded with an icy feeling of panic and fear as she felt the faintest ticklings of breath beside her neck, as she heard the raucous snores behind her, as she felt the strange liquid around her beginning to harden and crust.
Slowly, whilst berating herself on not checking her own bed, Celestia began to pull herself out of the hot, humid bed to land on her rugged floor with a soft, faint thud, bare hooves barely making a sound on the smothering tendrils of her carpet.
She turned slowly so as not to draw any attention to herself, not to create any noises or to move too fast and to wake up her guest, if guest was the suitable word.
What she saw when she turned around caused the breath to hitch and choke in her royal throat.
There was something laying concealed beneath her covers, folded into the white blanket so that only the head and neck were visible. Beneath the bed, a faint rising and falling motion clearly indicated that whatever this creature was, it was breathing quite jaggedly.
It was unlike anything she had seen before. The squished, flat, pale pink face with only a small bump for a snout seemed to peer upwards, eyelids folded tightly closed. The things ears seemed much to large for its body, fleshy orbs hanging from the side of its head like jewels. A thin pair of red looking lips, cracked and dry, erupted from its face. A mop of black, scraggly, partially greasy hair lay strewn around its head, balanced on one of her fine pillows like a surrounding halo. Now she could see what was coating her body and her bed, slimy and wet liquid dotted around her once pristine, perfect bed.
Deep, red blood.
Its mouth was firmly closed but she could still see it, sparkling in the white moonshine. The jagged snaggletooth.
This alone caused Celestia to draw in a deep, shaky breath as memories of an old foe sprang to her mind, dancing and jaunting along her conscious.
The sound seemed to rile the strange, slumbering beast that had somehow managed to sneak into her room and, instead of opting to attack or to participate in anything else, fallen asleep in her bed next to her. It shivered slightly before it turned to face her, snores still rumbling, body still asleep but eyes flickering open for the merest of seconds, a bodily reaction to the sudden noise.
Glimmering, golden eyes with streaming, blood red pupils stared into magenta, caring, soft but scared orbs for a single, split second before the confusing beast settled itself more deeply into the bed, eyes falling shut and breath rasping out in a loud snore.
The Princess of the Sun, ruler of Equestria and Goddess of the Day could only stare at the creature in thick volumes of fear and shock, those golden eyes that had sparkled in the creatures eyes had been the same ones that had shimmered in the eyes of her oldest, darkest foe.
And that terrified her.
She went to turn, to bolt, as the unfortunate human laying in her bed had attempted mere minutes ago, and to flee her room and find her guards, her sister, the Elements of Harmony. Anypony who could help her.
Careless, reckless movements led her to stumble on the rug, hooves clipping the very edges and sending her spiralling forward, eyes manically wide and heart thumping, straight into one of her shining, oak desktop tables.
Paper and quills flew as the table overturned itself under her great Alicorn form, ink bottles sent whizzing through the air to collide with the ground with numerous sharp, slapping, snapping sounds of breaking glass and shattering substance. The heavy crash of the table hitting the floor, the sound of oak against the hard stone floor left uncovered by the rug, roused the duo of guards stationed below her spiralling staircase, the pair springing to attention and beginning their ascension upwards.
Celestia stood still, balance regained shortly after her hard collision, for a second that seemed to drag on for an hour, cursing herself, her clumsiness and the way even her breathing seemed to be loud and vibrant. She shivered, turning her head back to face the stranger that lay in her bed, eyes afraid of the possible chaotic monster and legs quivering beneath her.
Her eyes met the pure, golden ones of the now fully awake being, magenta eyes full of fear battling with golden eyes full of confusion, pain and similar fear.
The pair stared at each other, the twin guards still bolting up the long, cold, hard stairs, armour rattling and clanking in a way that simulated machinery, creaking and groaning as the Princess and the tortured victim continued to look into each other's eyes.
Celestia relaxed slightly, the look of intensive terror on the face of her mysterious guest was enough to convince her that he meant her no harm, that he was scared and confused, in pain and alone. His body shook forcefully, his eyes were wide, his skin a pale, sickly white, steam sticking his hair to his scalp, mouth set in a cold, white line and stubby, pudgy hands gripping the sheets of the bed, his entire lower form form the neck down still encased in the duvet.
And then he shivered violently as a mighty blast of air tore into the room.
Celestia watched in amazement and morbid fascination as the strange creatures eyes flashed with terrified panic, as its breath deepened, its hands clenched, its pale skin shimmered and its mouth opened up in a silent scream, not of pain but of unbearable fear. His hair flapped in the wind, the duvet floundered and the room was filled with an awful roar of air that drowned out the sound of the guards.
And then it fell silent as the creature spoke up in a timid, confused, beaten and broken voice, body and mind failing as the minutes of terror, of pain and haunting finally caught up to him, enveloping him in the sickly arms of unconsciousness.
“Help me.”
A/N: Two chapters in one day? Damn.
First things first, the reason Jon did not freak out when he met Celestia, instead opting to ask for help instead of screaming is because for him, at the moment, things cannot get much worse.
Ok, good. Now, what do you think. Too soon into Equestria? Shouldn't have met Celestia like that because it happens a lot?
Well, the reason I put him in Eq now is so that he can develop a good characterization and friendship with the ponies for the grand finale. I probably should have included a bit more about him speaking with fellow humans but I didn't want to force it. And about him waking up in Celly's bed, I thought that would be something Discord would do for the giggles. Also, he fainted not because I wanted it to follow every other HiE story but because he has been through enough crap today.
Enjoy, constructive criticism is welcome and I really hope I haven't let anyone down.