//------------------------------//
// 1. Nightmare 
// Story: Solace 
// by ThatLimeyFuck 
//------------------------------//

You are Anon.
And the week, as usual, wasn't that kind to you. However, for persisting through it, you'd been rewarded as the weekend graced yourself with its presence. Friday was gone, and Saturday had been spent doing meagre tasks and having a well deserved break. It was getting late, the dying glows of the sun bleeding over the horizon, and you were about to head off and get some sleep.

However, you pause as you hear a knocking, at your door. Heavy, sporadic, and without rhythm. You look out the window, but whatever it is doesn't come into view.

You must be hearing things. The door thumps again, and you can see the door react, too. Either you're seeing things, too, or...

Besides, who'd there this late? And that knocking's just...off, abnormal.

You open the door, and are met with an unfathomable sight. You see a pony, coming up to about chest height, with, strangely, a mint green coat, with a tail of the same colour and white, and a depiction of what seems to be a small handheld harp on its flank.

But that wasn't the half of it.

Its neck stopped about 3/4 of the way up, cut unevenly and roughly, and its head had been grotesquely replaced by some kind of crude, horrid machine, and from its stomach, that hung open, draped numerous cables and cords, all horrifically stained red by something you are certain is the cause, but still try to disbelieve.

You exclaim, and recoil in shock, jumping back from the door. You want to close it and try and put this out of mind, but you stay rooted to the spot. The...thing was shuddering, trembling heavily when you opened the door, yet it seemed to ease slightly when you shouted out.

"W-What is that thing?"
You whisper quietly to yourself, completely bewildered by and afraid of what stood before you. Yet, something, be it a gut feeling or the "modifications" that just didn't look normal, told you this was not to be feared. Whatever had happened to it, you don't think it was here to harm you. It slowly took a step forward, as if it was trying to feel its way around, coming to a stop as one of its forelegs brushes against your own, not much short of bumping into you.  With incredible caution and delicacy, it raised a hoof out, feeling along the length of your leg. Whatever this was, it didn't seem like it had the sense of sight.

As your initial shock began to fade, sympathy took its place. This thing, for now, at any rate, wasn't trying to harm you, and you began to see it for what it (probably) really was, a poor creature that had had these horrific alterations made to it. Putting your thoughts to the test, you crouched down and took its hoof in your hand.

It tensed up as you did so, and its quaking all but disappeared.
"You poor, poor creature."
As much as this thing was a horror to look at, you thought it deserved your help. A decision you'd made without much thought as to what that would entail. You hesitantly place a hand on its back, and though you were sure it had no sight, it felt as if it was looking back at you.

Whether it was smiling or not at you was a different question entirely.