//------------------------------//
// Or could they burn like fire? 
// Story: Behind Red Eyes 
// by Ice Star 
//------------------------------//


My name is Sombra.
I'm not the King and
have not been since
I was fifteen years 
old. I am nearly
seventeen years 
of age. 



I have only talked to two ponies in 
the couple of years that I have lived.
I killed a wizard in the mountains.
Part of it wasn't me. I won't explain.
I'm cold and honest. I hate ponies
and never wanted this. I'm not
seen or heard by anypony, 
or at least not in a way they
could ever know. Ponies aren't
very smart or insightful.



My life depends on one word
and that word is 
might.



As in could be, possibly, never-will,
hopeless mess where everything
is red and nopony hears me scream.
That is might. 



I am unbreakable in my head, for all 
others would have ceased because they
are weak and stupid. I am not an 
assassin. I don't like to talk, I am not 
a weapon. I have questions and answers. 
Books with blood-soaked pages. 
One of the words they have is might. 
Hopeless hope. They have magic and 
lost knowledge. They forgot so much.



I am magic. I am a book, and I am a pony.
I am also none of the above. Or all of the
above. I like to think because nopony else 
does. I know things I will not explain. 
There is a pony who made me come here. 
I can't move sometimes. I don't sleep.
I don't eat much. I don't laugh. I never
smile. But I can see everything.



The walls get closer everyday and night.
Like one long hallway, but crooked. Or
maybe a never ending scroll. I can't 
leave. I wanted to go everywhere
alone and see everything alone.
I am the craziest pony alive.
You can only ever save yourself
so that is what I try to do where 
every day is a win that fails and all 
I do is learn, oh, and of course it gets 
worse. He always hurts others.



Sometimes I still wonder why.
But I know the answer. 
Why go out of your way to hurt 
some kind of creature like these 
crystal ponies if it isn't for 
revenge. They did nothing 
to him. They weren't even 
obnoxious enough to
be silenced so why does he?
He thinks it's fun to do this, 
even though there is no revenge.
To him I'm not alive so
he can hurt me more than the others.




I 
know 
better.



I know so much and one day
I'll save myself even if the Book
said I couldn't end him. I can
try another way. There must be
one. Why couldn't he just read 
the whole thing? I wouldn't be
here if he had done that.
Or maybe he just didn't care.
Why was he so desperate for this?
I know all these answers.
I'm not sorry for any of this
but it still isn't right.
I know this. Mostly, I don't
care. Not like a plebeian 
pony would. I've screamed
so much but none here can 
be saved. Except maybe me.
I'm the only one who can't give up.



My name is Sombra.
I'm not the king.
I'm not his weapon.
My name was stolen
from me. I'll take it 
back and so much
more if there was
just something I 
could do AND 
THE HALLWAYS MOVE
I don't sleep. At all.
THEY GET SM
ALLER
EVERY
DAY.
I see night
the most.
STARS ARE EVERYWHERE
AND SO IS THE FIRE
I'M STILL SCREAMING
BECAUSE IT JUST
DOESN'T WORK.
When I see
anything...
anything at all.
Through my eyes.
I'm very patient.
I'm very manipulative.
I'm cold and honest.
I'm beyond fear.
There is something
beyond fear and 
mortal terror.
I know it well.



It's nice when it is 
quiet and I just see
things instead of hear
them. 
While I
may not
ever 
doubt
myself
I do wonder
if I'm naive 
at times.


...Maybe.


I want my freedom, which
I've never had. I'm not 
enslaved like the crystal
ponies...
For me it's worse.
SO MUCH WORSE
AND MOST OF THE
TIME I CAN'T TAKE 
IT, I HATE IT HERE.



One day it'll be quiet
at least...



I'll leave
forever.
I'm
Sombra and
somehow
It'll happen.
I can at least try to be alone.
Like I want.



I watch
everything
fall apart.



Do I have to
call myself
a...
well...
DoIhavetocallmyselfademon?




I wouldn't bring 
a map with me
when I leave.
That's what 
stars are for.



I'll be so far away
and nopony will 
ever find me.


I'M MISERABLE HERE.


I may not ever be happy 
but at least I could 
leave.




I'mawarethatheisafraidofmirrors.
He thinks they lie.
He lies.
I could kill a mirror, he tells me,
...I can kill lots of things, he makes me.



My eyes are red.
They're still alive.
So am I.



I don't talk much,
obviously. But...



I'mcalleddemonmonstertheybegI'mnotsorrybutitstillisn'trightwhywhywhyandIhateitbecausethey'rerightandtheyjustdon'tknowbuttheyarealsoverywrong.



I think a lot.

And one
day... like I want it 
to be. The rest really
will be silence.
I'll have no need 
to talk at all.
Or see anypony.
Ever.



My name is Sombra.
My eyes are red.
And I'm going to live
no
matter
what.