In a dimly-lit dining room inside a home on the main road running through Ponyville, a fuchsia-colored mare sits at a round wooden table on a small wooden stool. Two candelabras sit evenly spaced on the sides of the table, holding two long, slender red candles. Both are lit, providing a warm glow to the small space around the table and filling the air with the scent of apples and melted wax.
A bottle of wine sits next to a glass in front of her. Red wine, aged for ten years. It’s too dark for her to see the label clearly, but she doesn’t care about the label; she cares about the fluid inside it.
This is her habit, her ritual. Every night, she lights the candles and places this same bottle, a corkscrew, and a clean wine glass on the table. Every night she sits with them in the room for thirty minutes. But she will not drink. She seeks sobriety, and this ritual she has devised acts as one meant to test her resolve.
Tonight is different. Tonight, she decides to raise the stakes just a bit higher.
Reaching for the corkscrew, she twists it into the cork. It makes small squeaking noises as she turns it. When it is deep enough, she pulls, and a pop echoes through the room as the vacuum seal is broken. She discards the corkscrew; she doesn’t need it anymore.
The aroma of the wine escapes the bottle, mixing with the apple scent from the candles to create an inviting, intoxicating smell within the room. She takes in a whiff of it before coughing, choking, then brushing the cloying odor away.
A light chuckle graces her ears. He is close, but she does not need to look for him, for he will show up soon enough of his own accord.
She waits a few moments for the wine to breathe before tilting the bottle over the glass. Even in the dim light, the red liquid coming forth from the bottle is ever so visible. A dark red, almost black line, cuts through the light emitting from the candles as it touches the bottom of the wine glass. A few seconds later, what began as a few drops becomes a small pool of crimson liquid within the glass. Satisfied, the mare tilts the bottle up and sets it down on the table.
As tonight is different, so too does his appearance differ. The air stirs from within the wine glass, and in a plume of smoke conjured by the candles, the demon appears.
With a body and mane colored a deep, dark crimson, he looks every bit the same as the wine resting in the bottle. His mane swirls and dances around in the air, unaffected by gravity. She dares not stare at his mane for too long; the way it flows tempts her in a way she could not describe… she only knows it feels wrong to do so.
She knows what he is: a demon of temptation with only one goal in mind, and that is to make her drink. She knows not his name, for she never gives him the chance to say it. She thinks him a monster, and she has called him a demon so often that it has become his name: Demon.
He takes a seat on a non-existent stool on the other end of the table and looks upon the mare with eyes as dark as the shadows around them. A smile creases his lips. He is happy to see her under these escalated circumstances.
“Hello again, Berry.”
"Go away, Demon. I will not drink tonight,” Berry Punch states flatly.
Demon lazily lays a forehoof against his cheek. "So harsh, Berry Punch. I thought we were good friends. What happened?”
“I’m trying to leave you. I will defeat you.”
“Leave me? How can you?” Demon hovers over the table and plants a forehoof square on her head. “I’m in here, or have you forgotten that?” Demon chuckles before floating back to his seat.
She remains unfazed. “So then why haven’t you left yet, Demon?”
Demon flicks his hoof off to the side in a back-and-forth motion, staring at it as he says, “Because neither of us have gotten what we wanted, Berry. Isn’t that obvious?”
Berry bites her lip. “I want you gone, Demon. And this ritual will do it, I know it!”
Demon shakes his head in disappointment. "Berry, Berry, this is but a trite exercise. You and I both know how this will end, especially since tonight is different.”
Her resolve remains firm. “Tonight is different, Demon. You’ll be gone, and I’ll never have to see you again.”
“But you already know how to make me go away, Berry.” He gestures to the open bottle and wine glass. “You’ve taken the first steps to doing that already, so why not finish the process?”
Berry slams a hoof on the table, disturbing the wine glass and causing the candles to flicker as if struck by a small earthquake. “No, I will not drink! That has never worked.”
Demon circles the wine glass with a forehoof, never touching the glass but somehow managing to swirl the crimson liquid inside. "Drinking has always worked, Berry. You are simply too clouded in your mind to see it as you are now. I should know. I came from there, after all.”
“Don’t play games with me, Demon. Not a drop of that foul liquid will touch my tongue. I have stayed sober for a month, and will continue to stay sober. My mind was as clear then as it is now, and there is nothing you can tell me to force that wine upon my lips,” she speaks through gritted teeth.
Demon stops circling the glass, and raises his voice. "I have forced nothing, Berry. I never have. No, it is YOU who have forced me into existence, and you do so every night with this silly ritual of yours.”
His words cut through her firm posture, and a bead of sweat trickles down her forehead. “That’s not true! I do it to make sure I don’t drin--”
“Do you?” Demon rises from his seat and flies right up to her face, burying his muzzle against hers. “Think about it! You could have done anything else besides this ridiculous ritual to turn me away!”
Demon flies away from her and hovers behind the candle to her left, a paper nametag reading ‘Hi, my name is Demon’ on his chest. “Go to an AA meeting and talk things out with a professional, or in a group of other troubled souls like you!”
A puff of smoke billows from the candle, and he materializes in front of the other candle, this time split into three smaller copies of him sitting in a circle. The one facing Berry Punch says, “Share your problem with your friends and use them for support!” The other two copies nod in agreement.
Another puff of smoke, and this time he bends in an unusual position, hovering over the wine glass. “Take up some yoga or other hobby to occupy your thoughts with something else besides alcohol!”
Untangling himself, Demon flies into her face once again. “ALL of these things you could have done were better than this, Berry!
“But no, you choose to do this alone, just as you always have. Your problem is your own, and you don’t need the support of others to fix it.” Demon shakes his head and shrugs his shoulders. “Foolish thinking of a foolish mare.”
“It’s not foolish!” she objects. “It’s… it’s…”
Demon sees a glimmer of light flash within Berry’s eyes as his words sink into her mind. She has long denied him the opportunity to relay this truth: a truth that she knows, deep down inside her head. Now is the perfect time to tell her; now is the time to seep through the cracks and break her from the inside.
Now is the time for Demon to act… and act he will.
Demon grasps her shoulders and pulls her off the stool. Berry Punch struggles to break free, but cannot. “It is absolutely foolish! I KNOW what you think this will do, Berry! You think this will work, that this ritual will set you free! Free from my torment! Free from your alcoholism! Free from the terrible life you lead now!
“Well, I’ve got news for you, Berry. It will NEVER work. I’ll still be around so long as you refuse to drink. I will prey on you as a vulture would, waiting for you to keel over so that I may swoop in as you cling to what little resolve you have left, if any.
“And when that moment comes, you will finally realize what you want, Berry. Do you know what you want?!”
Berry’s body is squeezed like a balloon fit to burst. Tears stream from her eyes and her voice chokes out an answer. “To banish you from my life, Demon! Nothing more!”
In a sudden burst of willpower, Berry breaks free of his grasp and falls back onto the stool. She slams her hooves on the table as she falls, almost causing the wine glass and candles to topple over. Demon notices and waves a hoof, settling the objects in an instant. The wine in the glass sloshes around in a rhythmic motion before it resettles to the bottom of the glass.
Demon looks upon her with an inquisitive glare, somewhat surprised at her sudden defiance, before he returns to his seat. He leans over the table as he prods the wine glass, jiggling its crimson contents slightly. “...Truth be told, I grow weary of this ritual, Berry.”
Demon’s sudden change in demeanor stuns Berry. “Y-You do? Why?”
He answers, “From the first day onward, my only wish was to leave you alone. This pathetic ritual of yours has been nothing but a waste of time to me so far… and beyond that, YOU were wasting my time.”
A devilish grin spreads across his face. “But now, tonight is different. Tonight you’ve broken the seal on the bottle. You think this is some small step up in difficulty to prove your resolve? WRONG, Berry! Surely you’ve noticed the odor in the room, and your lips glisten with saliva as you eye the forbidden liquor in front of you.”
Demon pauses as he witnesses Berry consciously sniff and bring a hoof to her lips to confirm that they were moist. A slight panicked expression made itself known on her face, and Demon flashes her a wicked grin at her reaction. “Your body wants it, Berry.”
“No! Stop!” she shrieks while placing her hooves on her head.
Demon slams his hooves on the table, forcing the wine out of the glass as he swirls it around him. “I WILL NOT! Let’s not forget that it is YOU who have decided to raise the stakes tonight, not I!”
He twists and alters the liquid into the shape of a smaller Berry Punch opening a wine bottle. “You opened the bottle.” The wine shifts once again to take the shape of a small glass as ‘Berry’ tilts the wine bottle. “And you poured the glass. You could have stopped at just opening the bottle, but you did not. Do you know WHY?”
“Don’t! PLEASE!” She slides her hooves over her ears and closes her eyes in a vain attempt to prevent hearing or seeing Demon.
Demon does not relent in his assault. “Your body language dictated that you pour a glass after opening the bottle because that habit is still burned into your mind! WHY?! Because--”
“STOP!”
“--you WANT to drink! Face it, Berry! You haven’t made an INCH of progress in your recovery, and tonight proves it!”
“NOOOO!” Berry’s scream echoes throughout the house, loud enough and high enough to crack the edge of the wine glass. Her head falls to the table as she buries it in her arms, tears flowing freely as she sheds tears.
Demon settles the wine back in the glass before floating behind her, resting a hoof gently on her shoulder. She does not turn him away, as much as she wants to.
“Look at yourself now. Pathetic, sniveling and crying over your body turning itself against you. I knew this would happen, Berry, but to see you so deep in denial… it’s disappointing.”
“Go-go away, please. Demon, l-leave me be,” she weakly stammers, her voice muffled by her arms.
“Hmph. You’re not worth my time anymore, so I’ll keep this quick. You want me gone? I want to leave, so if you truly wish it, I offer a deal. No tricks, no mind games, no deception. You do this, and I will leave you forever, Berry.”
“What?!” Her eyes fly open in sheer disbelief as she raises her head, tears still glimmering in the dim candlelight.
“Accept my deal, Berry, and you will be rid of me for the rest of your days,” Demon repeats.
The seconds that pass by as Berry processes his words feel like hours. However, Demon has waited eternities for this moment, so it felt like no time had passed for him before she responds.
“I... will entertain your deal. What is it, Demon?”
Demon withholds a smile from forming across his lips before floating back over to his seat. “Just one sip.”
“Pardon?” Berry inquires.
“One sip of wine is all it takes to make me go away, Berry.” Demon controls the wine within the glass to take the shape of a wine bottle. “Not the whole bottle,” --some of the liquid falls away from the bottle to take the shape of a wine glass-- “not the whole glass,” --again more falls until just three drops remain-- “just a volume that amounts to little more than a few drops,” Demon clarifies, letting the alcohol fall back into the small pool once more.
“A sip… just a few drops...” Berry repeats, hung on the ‘small’ words that came from his mouth as her eyes focus on the ripples bouncing around the glass.
Demon no longer holds back his grin. “Precisely. Sip just once, and ONLY once, and I, your greatest roadblock, your largest obstacle, will vanish from your life.”
She shakes her head, trying to clear it of his venom-laced words. Yet, the term he stresses lingers still in her mind, and she has to ask. “Only once?”
He clarifies, “After that sip, I will leave, and you will be free from me at last, with the candles and wine to keep you company. I will no longer haunt your every move, but know this: the decisions you make from then on are your own, and I will NOT be at fault for them. Whether you drink beyond that lone sip or not matters not to me, for I will be gone, and all that’s left will just be you. Does this not sound like a fair option?”
“No, Demon! This was never an option for me!”
Demon shakes his head. “Berry, Berry, you’ve always had this option. I’ve tried to tell you about this deal every single day since you started this ritual, yet up until now you’ve adamantly prevented me from getting a single word in.
“Yet tonight, I finally got the opportunity to tell you. Granted, it was no small effort on my part, but you needed to be shown the truth to truly see what I’m offering to you. Peace from my torment in exchange for but a few milliliters is rather advantageous to you now, isn’t it?”
Berry sits quietly in thought as his deal lingers in her mind. She catches herself staring at the glass of wine once or twice before snapping her vision back to Demon. “...How do I know you won’t just come back after I sip? Or that you’ll just stay afterward anyway?” Berry’s doubt remains present in her words.
Demon pauses for a moment, contemplating her question. “You have my word, Berry. That is all I can offer in good faith besides vanishing before your very eyes should you take that sip.”
Her thoughts occupied with uncertainty, Berry seeks some assurance. “Promise me that you’ll leave, Demon.”
Demon makes a crossing motion over his chest before sticking a hoof over his eye. Berry Punch blinks in surprise; she had seen that motion once before performed by a pink party mare that resides at Sugar Cube Corner.
“You know the Pinkie Promise?” she asks.
Demon smirks. “I know many things, Berry, though not all of it is for your ears. Just know that I happen to place significant faith in this gesture. Take these words for what they’re worth now, for I promise to leave you alone forever if you take a mere sip of your wine.”
Berry’s eyes shift around nervously. Demon must be jesting. Submitting to the Pinkie Promise like that is… it’s unnatural for a being like him to make.
And yet… she now knows that there is no way for Demon to back out of this deal if she accepts it. He will truly leave her alone, and she now knows exactly how horrifying Demon can be. What shocks her the most is that Demon has grown tired of this charade and wants it to end, but she delays the inevitable by refusing to listen to him. Had she been at fault this whole time?
Demon floats over the glass and began to spin around her, his voice echoing around her while her thoughts continue to swirl in her mind.
“Just…”
Her gaze drifts to the wine glass, and she unconsciously slides a hoof towards it. She stops once, twice, pulling back an inch before advancing two ahead as a voice pleads with her, telling her this is wrong. She shouldn’t do this. She doesn’t have to sip the wine in front of her. Demon will go away eventually… but can she afford to wait that long?
“...one…”
As Berry grasps the glass and brings it closer to her face, the intoxicating smell of the wine dances inside her nostrils. Her stomach churns as the scent floods her nose; she feels equal parts disgust and intrigue as she lifts the glass towards her lips. The red liquid inside sloshes around in eager anticipation as her hoof shakes with unsteadiness. Her fragile mind turns the deal over and over in her head: it’s an escape route she could take that she reasons herself into and out of over and over as the glass comes ever closer to her parting, salivating mouth.
“...sip.”
In those moments where time crawls to a standstill, with Demon’s eyes looking down upon her frail body and mind, she tilts the glass toward her lips.
She may as well have swallowed brimstone from within the bowels of Tartarus. Her mouth and throat burn with a fiery intensity, and an odd familiarity. The stinging sensation creeps along her face as she forces her eyes shut to deal with her internal struggle. Memories of a time when she could denote the individual flavors added to the wine flash by in an instant, but those memories are cast aside as she deals with the vile poison she lets past her lips.
It takes some effort, but soon Berry forces herself to swallow the last drops sloshing around in her mouth. As the liquor settles in her stomach, it gives her a warm feeling from within. Yet she feels cold, filthy. She needs to wash her hooves.
When she opens her eyes, true to his word, Demon had left. She looks around to be sure--no, absolutely certain he was gone, but all she can see is what’s already on the table. The only change is the one she knows of already: Less wine sitting in the glass.
A joyous emotion bubbles to the surface as Berry smiles at herself. Demon is gone. She is free.
As her hoof sits idle next to the wine glass, she thinks it proper to send off that which had troubled her for so long. Berry raises her glass into the air, toasting to Demon’s departure. As she brings the glass down, out of habit, she brings the wine to her lips once more.
She tilts the glass.