//------------------------------// // Six Day Plan // Story: Becoming Chaos // by LemonDrizzle //------------------------------// Six Day Plan “Breakfast is ready!” Jonathan groggily rolled over in his relatively small bed, feeling the wooden bedside table slap into his face as he toppled to far, his senses suddenly bolting awake in fear as he perched precariously on the edge of the bed, managing to pull himself back in before he fell onto the dusty, wooden floor. Jonathan moaned to himself as he breathed deeply under the warm covers of the bed, his hands rubbing at his eyes to clear the sleep before he dazedly turned his head to the lavender mare standing in the centre of his doorway, looking a tad sheepish and embarrassed with herself, a faint blush painting her cheeks. Twilight cleared her throat loudly as Jonathan tousled his hair before he let out a light yawn. “Uh, sorry for waking you but breakfast is ready.” Jonathan mumbled something that sounded vaguely like 'I'll be down in a minute', prompting Twilight to duck her head and back out of the door as Jonathan sat up and stretched his arms, the covers billowing around him. As far as he could remember, his sleep had been peaceful and undisturbed but, sadly, his memory was not Jonathan's most trustworthy aspect at the moment and so Jonathan took a few seconds to run through his head and see if he could bring anything hidden to the forefront of his mind. When nothing sprang to him, Jonathan cracked his back loudly, let out an exhale of air and rose out of his bed, waddling to where he had carelessly deposited his toga the night before after he had woken up drenched in hot sweats in the middle of the night, his toga insulating him cruelly. Jonathan sniffed the would-be dress disdainfully before he recoiled in horror at the stench, eyes narrowing as he slipped it on with distaste, mentally berating himself on his own smell and vowing to get himself some new clothes and/or cleaning his prized yet stinking toga. Jonathan trudged over to the door, slipping his arms in the holes as he nearly tripped over a piece of telescope, growling and cursing as it rang out loud and clear through his room, his foot aching where he had hit it. Jonathan wandered down the stairs quickly, blindly stumbling downwards before he emerged into Twilight's room, eyes unconsciously gazing over her belongings as he walked past. Her bed was perfectly made, obviously indicating that she had got up early and had the time to remake her bed. The little cot, or basket, next to the bed was also immaculately made, the covers barely even crinkled. On the bedside of the lavender mare sat a book titled 'Creatures of Equus' and Jonathan couldn't contain a chuckle, his mind instantly speaking up and congratulating the little mare on trying to learn more about him and his people. His eyes caught a series of crinkled paper, searching upwards to locate the single message that was written on every one of them. Dear Princess Celestia The rest of the pages were completely blank, obviously waiting to be used and Jonathan mentally stored the information that Twilight sent Celestia letters, possibly daily, for later use. Just as Jonathan was about to turn away, another sheet of paper, this one hopelessly crinkled, caught his eye and he turned to gaze at it. It was partially concealed beneath a pile of books but Jonathan could just make out the beginning of it. To my faithful student, Twilight Sparkle Regarding Jonat- The rest of the letter was hidden by a large red tome and, suspicious but also interested, Jonathan reached forward to pull the letter out of the stack of books... ..before the smell of Heaven itself reached his nose, making him instantly turn away to gaze with a numinous expression down the separate staircase leading to the library floor and the kitchen. As Jonathan struggled to contain the water salivating in his mouth, his legs moved rapidly and swiftly for someone who had just woken up, all memory of the letter vanishing as his hunger kicked in viciously, his stomach roaring aloud like a lion. Jonathan grasped the barrier of the staircase and stomped down the stairs, his eyes wide and excited as he hit the bottom of the stairs with a loud thud, spinning around to the direction that Twilight had pointed the kitchen out at the night before, his feet slipping on the floor as Jonathan pushed off of the brown oak flooring too quickly. Jonathan slid almost smoothly, almost suavely into the dining area of the library before a particularly vicious and malevolent book that had, of course, been lurking in wait upon the floor, caught the edge of his foot and caused Jonathan to yelp, stumble for a second and that impact quite beautifully with the floor, his arms coming up to cradle his head as Jonathan let out a moan of pain, the sound of a boyish laugh and a quiet intake of shock reaching Jonathan's ears. Almost immediately Jonathan heard the stern voice of Twilight pipe up from somewhere above him as he shook his head and lifted himself up to his knees. “Spike, don't laugh at him!” Instantly the laughter stopped, only to be replaced by a half-hearted attempt at muffling the giggles before Twilight spoke up again, the clop of her hooves on the ground signifying that she had risen from her chair at what was most probably the kitchen table. “Are you alright Jonathan?” With a moan of partial pain but hefty embarrassment, Jonathan rose onto his feet, hand clutching his head as he mumbled his reply, head nodding up and down as he probed his probably bulging forehead with a dainty finger. “M'fine.” Twilight blinked as Spike erupted back into his laughing spree, little purple legs flailing in the air as he leaned backwards before his eyes bulged wildly as he tumbled backwards, falling off of his own chair with a light thunk, his eyes wide and surprised for a second before both he and Jonathan broke into raucous laughter, much to the confusion of Twilight who looked on with an expression that would describe a person at the zoo gazing curiously at a rather quirky animal. Eventually the apparently infectious laughter died down and Twilight spoke up again, motioning with her head for Jonathan to sit down at one of the wooden chairs. “I didn't really know what...humans eat so I just made pancakes. They're like eggs with-” “Pancakes? You...you have pancakes here?” The look in Jonathan's eyes could be linked towards the predatory gaze that a lion might have once it had stumbled upon a rather plump looking gazelle, a sight that made the hairs on the back of Twilight's neck stand on end. “Umm...yes, we do. I'm not sure if they're the same here as they are on Eart-” Too late. The burning longing behind Jonathan's eyes reached a critical level, pink tongue coming out to lick his lips as he began to quietly mutter a mantra to himself, sending a chill down Twilight's spine at the creepy undertones of his voice. “Pancakes, pancakes, pancakes, pancakes, pancakes.” Twilight, unsure of what to do, simply smiled a crooked, warbled smile and trotted back to the kitchen to recover the sacred morsel, coming back into the room to be met with Jonathan already tucked underneath the table, his chair creaking slightly under his weight, a knife and fork already present in his hands somehow, a thought that worried her for a second before she shook her head and trotted over to Jonathan, plopping the pancakes down on the table with a little thud. Jonathan had been moving his chair to the table, about to tuck his legs underneath the wooden furniture, his mind entirely preoccupied with the sweet smell of pancakes, having eaten only plain, bland, boring foods whilst he had stayed in the hospital, when it happened. He had looked for a knife and fork for a second and, having found none, sighed to himself, wishing he had the silver crockery on his being and then, as if by magic, they were in his hands, smooth and cold and metallic. A chilling whisper snaked through his mind, a midnight chuckle following it. You can thank me later. Jonathan was about to growl a reply, regardless of the fact that the youung drake was still in the room, cleaning up loose, lost books before a sudden burst of intense hunger and longing flooded his body and his thoughts focused entirely on pancakes, delicious pancakes, wonderful pancakes. He'd eat them all, he'd devour every single one, he'd feast until he... “Burst.” Spike turned around at the deep voice, the light flickering of menace which curved its tones making his little form shiver as he piped up in a childish voice. “Uh, you say something Jonathan?” Jonathan turned his golden eyes to Spike for a second, eyes which flashed with an unknown emotion for a fraction of that same second before he diverted his gaze back to the door where Twilight had disappeared into. “No, nothing.” Twilight reappeared, frowning for a moment before she placed the plate of pancakes down on the table, Jonathan's hands reaching over and grasping the cool surface of the porcelain plate as he yanked it hungrily, ferociously, viciously towards himself. He caught sight of Twilight grimacing as he did so, a small look of fear taking over her features as Jonathan snatched the plate, the porcelain grinding in a spine tingling manner against the wooden table. His fork stabbed downwards, the pivot point jolting to an abrupt stop as the three-pronged utensil dug deep into the flesh of the first meaty pancake, syrup spurting from its complexion like blood, butter sliding down its golden brown surface as it tried to escape the hunger of the golden eyed monster. The pancake rose into the air, steam wafting from it in great billowing rolls of vapour, small trickles of syrup running off of its edge like water off of leaves. Twilight watched in horror as Jonathan's mouth opened, ripples of sharp, white teeth reflecting from his darkened maw before the whole pancake, easily the size of his hand, was crammed forcefully into his mouth, syrup dribbling from his lips and cheeks twitching with smashed layers of a pancake. When Pinkie Pie devoured cakes or confectioneries whole it was a relatively graceful act, without a single drop being displaced but what was unfurling before her, the chunks of pancakes falling from a chin soaked in syrup, was anything but perfect and Twilight had to turn away as her stomach heaved slightly, trying not to let Jonathan see the pale shade that had eclipsed her face. Jonathan caught a glimpse of Twilight turning, shuddering and then leaving the room in a rather quick gait as he swallowed the pancake, stomach continually grumbling from blow the table. No sooner had he swallowed the first delicious, delectable morsel did he reach out for a second, his fork descending and withdrawing again like some possessed crane machine as yet another pancake slipped into Jonathan's mouth whole, sending another tidal wave of sugary liquid washing down his chin. Somewhere in Jonathan's mind he recognized that something wasn't quite right, that even if he were this hungry, it would never have left him to dispel table manners and wolf down food like a starved dog but he tossed that aside as the pancakes flavour exploded in his mouth, robbing him of thought as he let out a pleased moan. The first pancake had been enough to set his roaring stomach to a partial rest. The second pancake had been enough to raze part of his hunger to the ground. The third pancake had been enough to make him feel full, his stomach now expanding somewhat. The fourth pancake was the finisher, having silenced his hunger and caused Jonathan's nose to wrinkle at the sweet source of nourishment that still rested on the plate before him, his stomach sated and his desire to eat pancakes thoroughly satisfied. And so it came as a great surprise to Jonathan when, once again, his hand re-established its grip on the fork and plunged the silver trident deep into the heart of the fifth pancake. Jonathan's golden eyes widened considerably as the pancake, dripping with grease, moved up to his mouth which opened automatically as the snack drew closer. Jonathan tried to turn his head to the side, his mind now frantically panicking as his head refused to move and his arm refused to stop and his mouth refused to close. His chest rose and feel rapidly with his short, gasped breaths of alarm before the pancake was crammed, smashed, pulped into his mouth, juices once again flowing down his chin as crumbs of the morsel rained from his still open mouth. Jonathan went to spit it out, to gag and expel the food but that only seemed to make the whole process that he was enduring much more mortifying as the food remained glued to the inside of his mouth, making Jonathan cough in great, gagging heaps as he started to inhale deeply from his nose. With a choked noise Jonathan swallowed the pancake, clutching his throat as the unhealthy subsistence caught on the edges of his throat, his eyes sparking with tears as the food slipped down his throat and great, hauling breaths wracked his body. Are you enjoying your meal Jonathan? Jonathan whimpered once as the voice sounded in his head before he shook himself, sealing his now under control lips tight. The sound of laughter followed before that gravelly, malicious voice sounded again. Come on, eat up. Twilight's little pet made all of these for you, you know! Jonathan watched in horror as his arm raised again, stabbing into the sixth pancake which now sat cold on the plate, the syrup becoming more solid as his fork raised the meal to his tightly sealed mouth, Jonathan's eyes now bugged to nearly fill his head. His hand moved forward and Jonathan turned his head to the side like a child who no longer wanted to eat their helping of vegetables. The fork tried again and Jonathan turned his head in the other direction, sweat staining his shirt as he vaguely heard Spike and Twilight discussing something upstairs before his head was violently and savegly twisted forward again by some unknown force and his mouth was yanked open, pancake being stuffed deep, deep until it stroked his throat, making him gag as breathing became impossible. Almost as if it had been kicked down his throat, the pancake fell to his stomach, allowing Jonathan to lean forward and choke and splutter, watering eyes now overspilling onto his cheeks and onto the plate of pancakes below him, three remaining. Ready for another round champ? “Nooo” Jonathan moaned, his stomach churning as his throat convulsed, head now resting on the table facing away from the pancakes, legs uncooperative as he tried to rise from his seat. Then say please. Jonathan blinked and shuddered once, the taste of both sickness and anger on his tongue before his body quivered. “...No.” One more chance. His voice was darker now, the malicious joy now gone replaced only be a voice that seethed dread and still Jonathan shook his head weakly on the table. “I'll...never...” Fine by me. Jonathan felt his body hoist itself from the surface of the table, his now full tummy shrieking in protest as vomit rose to his throat before he swallowed it down with a shudder. His arm moved, picking up its fallen utensil and stabbing it into the seventh pancake, its surface now cold and sickly looking, whilst Twilight and Spike continued to talk upstairs, the pitter patter of feet and the clopping of hooves signalling that they were in Twilight's room. He wanted to call out to them but how could he explain this? How could he tell them about Discord? How could he provide evidence for his sanity when even he had his doubts? And so he kept silent as the fork raised, slowly, heart-rendingly slowly and as his mouth opened with a jolt, forcing Jonathan's head bakcwards slightly. The smell wafted under his nose and that alone nearly made him retch and suddenly Jonathan felt that maybe he had made the wrong decision. The fork drew closer and Jonathan panicked, panicked mentally and physically, straining every muscle in his body and screaming the foulest of profanities in his head, pushing everything into the simple act of stopping his own hand. His chair teetered, pushing backwards, his arm hovered in the air for a second, his mouth relaxed, his legs pricked with pins and needles... ...and then time seemed to reset itself as the fork darted forward, as his mouth widened and the cold, decrepit, decaying pancake was unwillingly forced into his mouth, the cold exterior getting caught on his tongue, on the roof of his mouth, on the back of his throat and Jonathan coughed and jolted and tried to spit it out, tried desperately as tears flooded his face, as vomit rose from his stomach, as his arms and legs and hands shook in a deranged manner. Nothing. Nothing followed by a whisper. Say please. And Jonathan, his stomach rocking with overladen food, his mouth crammed with a cold corpse of a snack, his eyes filled with tears practically shrieked the word. “Please!” It was garbled, having escaped through layers of half digested pancakes, but it was still understandable and, as the conversation and the movememnt above ceased in a sudden manner, all forces acting on Jonathan vanished and he slumped forward, slamming into the table and spitting, spewing, spluttering every trace of pancake out of his mouth, sending chunks of gooey mess over the table as his legs shook and his arms fell to his sides. His stomach roared again and Jonathan groaned in abject nausea, rising up so fast from the table that he sent his chair tumbling onto the ground behind him with a clatter as he charged, steam rolled his way through the kitchen, past the small door on the right and kicked, yes kicked, the next small, white painted door which led to the first floor bathroom. Upheaval. His stomach released itself, his insides emptied, his throat burned as Jonathan knelt over the small white toilet seat, tears of pain stinging his eyes as his stomach forcefully ejected more of his breakfast. And yet, no matter how much he dispelled, it still felt as if there was something much worse inside him, something that was making his stomach and his heart and his mind ill, even more so than the breakfast and it was not something that could be purged in such a way. Laughter. Well, that was quite fun wasn't it? Oh you, should have seen your face! It was simply perfect. The chortle died out, replaced by a harsh whisper. You will learn not to disobey me Jonathan or you will face the consequences. And once more, as if there had never been that second of true, undiluted malice, the voice filled with a still malicious but seemingly juvenile tone spoke up again. You understand now, right? Jonathan's only reply was a groan as pain tore through his stomach, making him gasp as he slumped to the floor of the bathroom, narrowly missing plunging his head into the pile of his own breakfast that sat mockingly in the bowl of the toilet. His muscles were jelly, his whole being was in pain and numb at the same time, incapable of moving but entirely capable of feeling the aftershocks of his most recent bout with the monster Discord. Jonathan closed his eyes and lay feebly on the floor of the bathroom as Twilight Sparkle walked back into the dining room and gasped at the display before her. Just when Jonathan was about to nod off, finding the floor of the bathroom rather cosy in his pained but immobile state, a rapid tapping on the door of the bathroom roused him, making him lift his head which cricked his neck, a wince creasing his eyes as a faint voice made itself known. “Jonathan, are...are you in there?” The human swallowed and went to move his body, finding himself shivering and weak like a newborn kitten. “Y-yeah, I'm here Twilight.” “Oh my Celestia, are you okay? There's bits of...of your breakfast all over the table and the chair is overturned and I thought something terrible had happened to you!” 'Something terrible has happened' Jonathan though to himself but when he opened his mouth the words were that of the liar and snake. “Yeah, I'm fine Twilight. I just wasn't used to the sweetness of the food and it-it made me ill.” There was a silence in which Jonathan prayed that Twilight didn't buy it, that she questioned him but he was instead greeted by a light sigh. “I...suppose that might do it. Dietary conditions that are suddenly tossed aside by new food which is wreathed with lipids could lead to a rejection from the body. But, are you sure you're okay?” Jonathan grimaced as he moved his body, voluntarily this time, and pulled the door open, his legs still shaking as he tried to hide his quaking body behind the door, only poking his ghastly pale head out which was ripped by a red smile flecked with bits of pancakes. “Seriously Twilight, I'm fine. I feel a lot better now. Fit as a fiddle.” His knees nearly buckled as he said it but Jonathan hid it behind the door, gathering himself. Twilight frowned, lines wrinkling her forehead. “I was going to tell you something but Jonathan, you really don't look okay. Maybe you should go get some more sleep?” “I'm fine Twilight.” “You don't look fine.” “I am fin-” “No you aren't Jonathan!” “I TOLD YOU I'M FINE!” Jonathan recoiled at the sound of his own voice which bounced through the house, watching as Twilight bolted backwards in fright. His hands shook with anger, his own anger, not the monsters and Jonathan was suddenly afraid because that was his own anger, those were his own emotions scaring this little pony and not that monsters. This, the quaking ball of purple fur backing away from the door in terror, was all his own doing and Jonathan shuddered and sighed. “I-I'm sorry Twilight. Maybe I'm not feeling that well. Maybe I should go to sleep for a while.” Twilight gulped and stood a bit straighter but the quake of her body told Jonathan all that he needed to know about what she was feeling. Her reply was that of a barely neutral whisper. “Maybe you should.” Jonathan felt crestfallen and stupid, so stupid as he pulled the door open and walked sluggishly and awkwardly past Twilight, who shied away as he passed. Jonathan's eyes swam with sadness as he allowed the revelation that this time around there was nothing else to blame for this fear that he struck into Twilight but him, that there was no internal force plucking his strings and making him dance. Jonathan walked forward, into the dining room which had been neatly cleaned away by a gentleman like little dragon who was washing the plate in the sink in the kitchen which Jonathan had passed by moments before. The dragon hadn't looked at Jonathan but his rigid stance had said everything. He wasn't wanted and it was entirely his own fault. Jonathan didn't know what it was that made him stop walking up the stairs to his room, he didn't know what it was that sparked his curiosity, he didn't know what force made him raise his voice to issue through the library but what he did know was that it was, once again, not the act of the demon residing in his mind. “Twilight, what did you want to tell me?” There was silence for a while, a deep, unsettling silence that rendered the once homely atmosphere null and void before the gentle clip-clopping of hooves dashed throughout the library as Twilight walked from the kitchen into Jonathan's view, looking less pale and more composed than she had moments before. “It was, umm, about the next couple of days...” It was obvious that she still wasn't sure about how to act now, it was obvious that she was still afraid of him and so Jonathan spoke again in a much quieter voice but one that was filled with emotion. “I'm so sorry Twilight, I am. It's...been a tough couple of days and after that incident I just needed to get rid of some steam and I am sorry that you were the scapegoat. I truly am.” Jonathan let his chin rest on his head as he stood sullen and still on the flight of stairs, eyes closed as he awaited Twilight's reply. That is, if he would get one? Maybe she'd just leave him alone? Maybe she'd just leave him here to stand and wait for her? A light cough shattered Jonathan's morbidly depressing imagination as he looked up to be met with a shakily smiling Twilight Sparkle whose eyes gleamed with acceptance and just a trace amount of that still repressed fear that Jonathan had grown to know so well. “I forgive you Jonathan. I can't imagine how hard it must be for you, not knowing how you got here, if you can go back home. If...if you ever need to talk, I'm right here okay?” Jonathan smiled a similarly shaky smile, this grin splattered with flecks of happiness as the young unicorn accepted his apology. A clenching of his gut reminded Jonathan that he had been aiming to get some sleep as his eyes winced in pain but, again, that unknown curiosity appeared and Jonathan piped up just as Twilight turned to walk away, clearly having thought that the acceptance of the apology was the grand finale to the awkward little conversation that had just developed. “Twilight, what...what's going to be happening over the next couple of days?” Twilight turned her head, a look of surprise over her face before one of her front hooves came up to slam into her now annoyed complexion, causing Jonathan to jolt as the sound of the impact bolted around the library. A light mumble escaped Twilight, something about 'forgetting' before she spun around. “Well, I've arranged for you to spend the next six days with my friends, and me, so that you can get closer to us and so that we can teach you a bit more about Equestria. Each day you'll spend some time with one of us, I think Applejack's first one the list actually. She'll probably make you buck apples, it's what sh-” “Has Rarity agreed to this?” Twilight seemed to freeze at that before she slumped down, eyes grazing across the room as if searching for an escape path. “Uh, well, yes, of course she has.” “Twilight-” “I'm not lying!” At that Jonathan raised an eyebrow, which fell rapidly as his stomach contracted again, sending waves of pressurized pain shooting through his abdomen. “I never said you were...” “Ehehehehehe, I guess you, ah, didn't, did you?” Jonathan sighed. “Look, Twilight. I'm fine with meeting Rarity but I...I don't want her to be scared. If she doesn't want to meet with me that's fine as well, I won't be hurt by it.” Twilight seemed to shiver with anxiety as she spoke up in a whiny voice. “But she does want to see you! She really does!” “I'm not sure that's the truth Twilight. Don't you-dare-lie to me, if Rarity doesn't want to see me then don't force her into it.” Twilight noted that Jonathan had put emphasis on the dare, the word seeming to derive from a voice that was not his own but she shook it off as her mouth opened to spew a retort. “Jonathan, please, she really wants to speak to you, to make sure that there are no misunderstandings!” “...Fine.” Twilight sighed in relief. “But if she hasn't been told about meeting me, if she doesn't want to meet me Twilight then I will be very, very cross-angry-with you.” There it was again, that snap of a deeper, darker voice that ruptured the normal speech pattern that Jonathan had, that snap that had now drawn Twilight's attention as she mentally told herself to put that into her next letter to Princess Celestia. “I promise you Jonathan that will not happen.” Jonathan held his gaze with Twilight for a few more seconds, a more volatile and morbidly dark side of his mind soaking up the experience of watching the studious mare squirm in nervousness before he barked out a sigh, closing his eyes and turning his still wobbling legs back up the staircase, shooting out a sentence as he did so. “Okay, I'll meet with each of your friends and I'll trust you. Please don't let me down.” Jonathan heard Twilight's reply as he veered from her room up the stairs to his, offering a non-committal grunt in reply to her happy words. “Thank you Jonathan! I'll tell all of the girls you agreed, they'll be super happy!” His stomach pulled again as he walked back into his room, dumping himself down onto the bed and rolling over onto his back, letting out a minuscule groan as he did so. It had been little over an hour since Jonathan had first exited his bed and yet he was back again, his stomach now twisted with pain and his mind running in circuits around his head. Sleep seemed like an impossibility as pain twitched through his body, his thoughts racing with the recent news he had received. A day. Alone. With each of Twilight's friends. It seemed like a nice sort of plan, immediately giving Jonathan the opportunity to make his impression on the ponies that Twilight had close to her heart but doubt fogged Jonathan's head as he thought about each mare in particular. Applejack. She would be the first to know if he slipped up, she would be the first to look into his eyes and see something over than him in his head. She would be a problem but she was first on the list according to Twilight. He had to play it smooth around her, he couldn't let her get suspicious. If she got suspicious, she might tell somepony and then he may have to go back to Canterlot and what if Celestia, radiant Celestia, was disappointed in him. What would his punishment be for lying to a goddess? Would he be crucified? Would he be killed instantly? Locked up? Forced to endure unknown hours of torture for harbouring this beast? Would he be- petrified? Jonathan shook his head at that suggestion. An impossibility that had derived from his still weak mental state. Petrification. What a joke. Fluttershy would be find around him, the timid little creature wouldn't try to pry into his life and she most probably wouldn't dare to look him in the face out of fear. The rainbow coloured one, Dash, may be a problem. She seemed...valiant and courageous and foolhardy. She was like polar opposites to him and that made her a problem but not an unreasonable one. He just had to act meek in front of her, act like a bug and then she would ignore him, grow bored of him and he would be free and most certainly, most exuberantly uncaught. Pinkie Pie. A danger not to his discovery but to his sanity. She had seemed, to Jonathan, more mad than he was when he had first spoken to her, first met her. She was spasmodic and wild and uncontrollable. She was a variable that wouldn't stop changing. She was not somepony who he could fool or control. She would be a problem, a problem that wouldn't abide by any rules or regulations. Kill. Surprise. Jonathan shook his head again as the word permeated his mind, his eyes closed as he felt the familiar touch of the serpentine creature around his mind. He wouldn't kill her, he wouldn't control her or act in front of her. He would be himself, Jonathan, and hopefully that would work. If it didn't then- Kill. -he would just have to find another way to silence the young mare, another way to make her believe his wild lies and falsities. Rarity would be...different. She was already suspicious, she was already wary of him and that was a thought that made Jonathan shiver in anxiety. He would have to show her that he wasn't evil or a creature to be feared, he would have to put on the most perfect act ever so that she would begin to trust him. Maybe if he- Finish -treated her like royalty then- The -she would trust him, like him a- Job. -little more, maybe she would stop fearing him. That could work, judging by her appearance, her accent and her fashion industry, treating her as if she were an upper-class pony may be his best shot at making sure he didn't alienate her further. As if a switch had been flicked, Jonathan's mind began to shutdown. Jonathan's eyes closed shut as his thoughts began to cool and freeze, the pains plaguing his body falling further away as a quaint numbness stole his form. A little voice dredged down from the recesses of his mind, pulling him into a slumber as Jonathan struggled for a second to not nod off, struggled for a second to put up a bit of a fight against that force that seemed to have him on a hook before the words of the demon passed through his mind again. You will learn not to disobey me Jonathan or you will face the consequences. And the urge to fight fled him as he remembered the ordeal that he had suffered, the pains that his body experienced, the helplessness that his mind had been subjected to. A crooning voice in the darkness washed over him. Sleep tight, my little human. You have some big days ahead of you. Without a word in edgewise, Jonathan allowed himself to be dragged back into slumber, where everything but pleasant dreams awaited him.