//------------------------------// // Chapter 1; The seeds of evil // Story: Control // by EnvelopeBrony //------------------------------// Control “In every germ of that kindred love is lodged the perpetuity of evil” Kurt Vonnegut The seeds of evil; Chapter 1 Centuries ago, before tales of Princess Luna’s betrayals and transformation to Nightmare Moon, there existed a great evil that corrupted even the most innocent. This force was named Curse. It has been rumoured that Curse was what originally corrupted Luna to become the more twisted being that eventuality met. These stories, however, were lost; all thought of them was eradicated with time; everypony went of living, carefree. The ideas of this tale went as follows; Curse existed, evil in its purest form. Equestria was an incorrupt society by standard, and all it needed to give it was the ‘Education’ of outer influence. Stories changed, however, as after the redemption of Luna, Curse was once more banished, left wandering in silence for more victims yet, for millennia, utterly bound to its quest to corrupt another society. I sit, staring blank faced at my wall. I’m trying not to blink. Or breathe. I might have been better off not keeping my eyes open at all. The butt of a gun crashes into my skull. I fall to my knees, dazed, fore-hooves still firmly on the back of my head. My teeth are clenched in an effort to stop myself crying out. It would crush my dignity and give them undeserved satisfaction. The mare with the pistol struts past me, spinning he firearm around his finger. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The Experiments Breakthroughs happen all the time whether they be small or large. Thinking up a particularly good joke can be self gratifying. So can scientific breakthroughs. The colt that discovered the hand was considered a scientific genius. Composed of newly discovered matter, deep within the mines of our fair republic, hands could perform previously unachievable tasks. This new matter was biological, and highly interchangeable, meaning to could morph itself freely. Through further research it was discovered that, in actuality, the matter was living, like a devolved version of an everyday pony. The matter could then be (though some process that I am not aware of) developed so that it could be interchangeable with pony living tissue. The matter could then be used to heal wounds, and replace dysfunctional limbs. Dr. Sterile Sun was the one who discovered that you didn’t need to replace with this new tissue, when you could design. And, using the matter, he created the first functional prototype of the hand. Earth ponies were the main market, as without the use of unicorn’s magic everyday tasks were difficult. The hands had five fingers, like five entirely individually controllable hooves. It made gripping things easier. It made life more practical. When Dr. Sun stepped up onto the podium, his hand was a gizmo, a novelty, soon to become a sensation. Earth ponies did capitalise on the purchase. Using their general superior fitness, they could now achieve far more than Pegasus, maybe more than unicorns. Mass production began, many new items were invented ranging from useful items like disposable pens (Far better than quills) to more lethal items such as weaponry; Guns, Swords, Small Missiles. Some resented the changes. But most regarded them as enrichments. Some even regarded themselves as superiors with their replicated limbs. The eventuality was one ending in conflict. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “You’re a slimy coward, ‘swhat you are. A filthy bastard!” The tall colt continues to pace around the room. The gun he spins around his finger glints as it passes through the morning light barely oozing through the cracks in the shutters. “Either you pledge allegiance to our leader, or you die.” I speak: “How about you fuck off?” I’ve never been good with choice of words or better judgement, both of which would have been a useful tool in this situation. “Wrong answer.” The mare abruptly whips the gun to face me, finally quitting his little spin game. The barrel sits there, a mouth, ready to spit deadly shrapnel into my soft skull. I try not to close my eyes. I try to look into his, in a feeble attempt to burn my own image into his brain, to break him with guilt. But I’m only kidding myself. I find my eyes drifting to a close, then they are barred shut, and I’m ready to descend into the afterlife. I’m ready to take on the open black void of nothingness some speak of. I can feel in approaching. There’s a deafening boom. I feel myself flying to the floor, limp, the sharp pain of the impact causing me to bite my tongue. My eyes are still tightly sealed. Am I dead? I feel as though the contents of my body are shifting round in petty circles. Then I hear ringing. Only ringing, like an isolated bell. I open my eyes with great hesitation, the light blinding, the world spinning in a spiral of confusion and hatred. My vision is blurred. I’m seeing things in slow motion, yet fast at the same time, as the people leave trails behind them as they ragdoll through the air. The screech is met by a deep bass that begins dominating my hearing. Several soldiers lie on the floor next to me: spinning with white glow surrounding them. Ones’ face is mutilated, obviously struck by something travelling at high velocity. Then, everything floods back. There are screams of pain, gunshots echoing in the distance, debris littering the floor. Rubble has covered half the room, smoke rising from smouldered rocks. The overwhelming smells of carbon and dust cause my lungs to dilate, and I choke gagging on the floor, gasping for fresh air. My study has become entirely obliterated, and immediately I begin to fear for my own safety. I hear shouts approaching. I look up into a thick fog of smoke and rubble where silhouettes begin to form. Friendly? No, I can’t take that chance. Nopony is to be trusted. I get up onto four legs and stumble dazed towards my study door. “Hey...running away again, coward?” A meek voice speaks up from behind me. I turn to face the tall colt, now lying, barely twitching on the oak floor. He’s smiling a wild, sinister smile. Despite it, I can see the pain in his eyes. He’s dying. The dust around him is slowly clearing revealing a large segment of wall crushing his limp body into the floor. I keep from making eyes contact. “Hey...kill me, eh?” He gestures to the gun, just out of his reach on the floor in front of me. “End it for me...you want to, don’t you, ya filthy bastard?” I shift my head to look him directly in the eyes. “Oh, I would. But, I don’t have hands. Sorry about that.” I hold up one of my fore-hooves to re-enforce my point. I then draw the hoof back, and kick him across his face, knocking him out cold. “Freeze! Hooves behind your head!” I stop, dead. I hear at least five clicks of guns cocking behind me. Shit. I forgot about the approaching figures in my little game. “State you name or we will shoot!” I remain silent. I hear at least five more gun cocks. “STATE YOUR NAME, OR FACE CERTAIN DEATH!” “My name is Lead Bolt, and what gives you the GODDAMN RIGHT TO KILL ME?!” “Princesses’ orders.” “I DON’T GIVE A FUCK FOR THE PRINCESSES ORDERS!” Again, not thinking on my hooves. The soldier turns back to his troupe. I can see twenty, maybe thirty of them. He gives them the command. “Shoot to kill, soldiers.” My horn lights up, glowing a blinding orange, as though it were a wall of fire. Shield magic. Difficult, but effective. I run out of the doorway, galloping down the corridor to my front door. The sound of the shield wearing off crackles in the near distance as I break down the front door, ignoring the pain. I’m now lumbering along, body swaying like a drunkard ready to collapse. A hundred bullets being unloaded into my shattered walls, echo like a scream into my very soul. It’s a cry, telling me that home is no longer safe, and that fleeing is the only available option. More vehicles are pulling up now, allied forces unloading onto the streets, villagers being escorted out of their houses at gun point. Only a day ago the enemy deterrents burst through into Ponyville. Ponyville had been a vantage point, and a beacon of hope for the resistance. However, when the barricades came down, and blood began to spill, ponies were pointing hooves. I was ratted out, found hiding in my house. What else could I do? They had been told of my anti-earth ways, and how I was strongly for Celestia’s ruling. The truth was though, I thought of myself as a vigilante; one man army, a power without borders. I had no side. And that was where I had failed. They had come in to “convert” me. They say the power of the few can become the power of the many in time. And, the power is in your hand. I declined their offers for hand attachments. They didn’t take well. And now, I’m on the run from my own home, the only place in the world that was still meant to be safe. I dive into an alleyway just as the sky turns red as hundreds of fire bombs rain down in a firestorm, turning the surrounding area into an inferno. Who fired them? Celestia knows. Too much is going on to be able to comprehend who is fighting who. I tightly scrunch my eyes, attempting to grip to reality. Then, I run.