Is This How It Ends?
Is this how it's supposed to end? All alone, with nopony else around to comfort me? Nopony else to share these final moments with? I guess not. I guess I am meant to die alone, just me and what's left of my mind, with no one to bury my body or mourn my loss. It's rather depressing, honestly. Yes, I know that I will die tonight. I have accepted it, but that does not mean it doesn't make me sad still. I never wanted it to be like this... nopony did...
I still remember them, you know. The ponies. The REAL ponies. The ones that weren't monsters. I remember them clear as day, as if They never left. As if They never changed...
They used to frolic around so much, living their day to day lives, just like my friends and I. We were all ponies. Weren't we? Yes, I believe so. I'm pretty sure at least... Am I still a pony? I think so. Yes, yes I know I am. They never changed me, so I have to be. Yes, I am still a pony. But are They? No. No, they aren't. And there is no hope for them. Not anymore. I don't know what They are anymore, but They definitely are not ponies. They are strange things. Always hungry, and never satisfied. What do They eat? Ponies. The very ponies They used to be. That's how ponies get turned. There were others here, beyond the guards. Others that were trying to stop Them. They wanted to help us, stop ponies from being turned, and to cure the ones that had. Who were they...? Twin... Tri... Twi..light... Twilight. Twilight Sparkle! Her and her friends Rainbow Mash, Flutterbutter, Pinkie Eye, Applesack, and Rarmity were supposed to be trying to stop this. Are those their names? It doesn't seem like it... Where was I? Oh yeah, Twinkle and all them's plan to fix everything. Told us that they wouldn't stop, they wouldn't rest until the cure was made. I know they didn't, though. Otherwise, I wouldn't still be here, all alone, with nopony I can call friend...
It's a little funny, though. Out of all of us, I was the last pony anyone thought would be, well, the last pony. Myself included. I never wanted to be the last pony. Why would any one pony want to be the last? It's miserable. Trying to keep warm, searching for food, avoiding Them. But it's alright. It should all be over soon.
No, it won't be long now. Oh no. I know They'll find me soon, just like they found everypony else. It's getting dark out now, and They always come out in the dark. They come out to hunt, or scavenge, or whatever else it is They do. But never to talk, oh no. They don't talk anymore. They make strange, scary noises. They don't talk. I haven't heard them talk in... almost two years now. Of course, back then there were still others that did talk to me. Back when there were still more ponies, ponies other than myself. But now there aren't any. I have been alone for a long time... only having myself as company...
It seemed containable at first. When They got out, we never worried. There were much more ponies than there were of Them. We all thought that there was no way They would manage to take over. I told my friends that it would be handled. That the guards and the rest of the military would take care of it. I was wrong. The guards were the first to go. When the guards were gone, They moved on to the rest of the military. Then, They began turning regular ponies. Changing them, making them no longer ponies. They became like them. We would fall asleep, the occasional screams of a doomed pony echoing through the night as They got to them. One of us would keep watch, making sure They never got past our barricade. We would listen to the radio, waiting for the newspony to tell us that They were stopped. That we had figured out a way to fix everything. That They could be turned back into ponies. They never were.
When the newsponies stopped broadcasting, we panicked. How else were we supposed to know what They were doing? Eventually, we started going outside. We would go during the day, because They only come out at night. Soon though, we got bold. Too bold. We started going out at night, trying to get supplies. Less of us came back each time. They grew in numbers each time.
I am the only one of us left. I'm tired of waiting, holding on to hope. There is no hope; They took it all away. All of my friends are gone, having become like Them a long time ago. I am the only one left, and my time is running out. I can hear Them outside, clawing through the barricades. I haven't fixed them. I'm too tired. They're inside now, groping their way through the house. Trying to find me. Let Them. I'm too tired. I miss my friends, and it's so very cold in here. Almost like a...air conditioner! Air conditioner. Ah, They are scratching at my door. Do you know what that means? They have found me. Come in! There is plenty of room for all of you. And you brought my friends! Won't you come closer? Yes, come closer my friends... closer... I haven't seen you in so long... We have so much to catch up on... But could you do something for me? Could you warm me up? Just like you did for all the others? Please, come warm me up. I'm so very, very cold...
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Wow, that was pretty freaking dark. There isn't a lot of MP based stuff to really rate on it. You could remove it from this site and change a handful of words and it would be just as powerful. That said, my comments will lack substance.
Never the less, it is a well written, dark story that really makes you feel the despair of being the last pony standing. Good work.
-Lumino
Short, but dark and to the point. It's pretty much perfect.
Wow, very nice. Very subtle and rich meanings.
3258105 3257924 3255186 Thank you!
i.chzbgr.com/maxW500/6714380800/h89BCEC9B/
All I can say is GREAT STORY, please make more like this. Maybe in the elements of harmony's point of view? That would be cool, and I would LOVE IT
. Now I must go and read cupcakes again
. Great story.
I'm reminded of I Am Legend (the book in particular). I like the style of the narrative. This has a thrown-together feel, and I'm guessing it was written fairly quickly. The thrown-together feeling doesn't detract, though. I think it adds to the story, in fact, since the narration is like a stream-of-consciousness. Nice work with this.
It's always the ideas we consider the be to be some of our least-best that everyone seems to love, eh?
Well, where to begin?
That being said, you might have been able to add more to make us actually feel like we were inside his mind, living his memories. Scents and sounds are big things that stick in your memory, so much so that the mere smell/sound can trigger the memory or that you can swear you smell it or hear it. 
I'd imagine this would be happening more are the pony became more and more crazy. The narration itself also shows that his dementia from loneliness is so strong that he must talk to himself to retain some state of mental stability. 
That all being said, and I'm no grammar guru, the grammar is atrocious! 
I mean, all of the big things that I spotted were little ones, periods where commas would have been better mostly. It still flowed well since both symbolize pauses but one symbolizes a complete thought as the other shows continuation of a thought. For some of the ones, it's fine since other forms of punctuation can be used to a phrase in the beginning of a sentence to add extra emphasis: "Damn it, Tom! I'm a doctor not a neural physicist!" "Jane! Stop this crazy thing!" the others, however, stick out to others as a sore thumb and, for some, they become as crazy as the pony that they're supposed to be in the mind of. 
The concept of the story and state of the pony's mind is constant, though, I believe a few extra words could have made his state of insanity more on level with the rest. The piece works by itself as a story with starting as late as could be permitted and cutting off to let the reader's mind wonder. The state of sheer, overwhelming, depression and hopelessness is perfect, especially at the end where his death from "Them" was more like a sweet release; great touch with having his friends being in the group.
With all that said, I liked it. The piece did as it was supposed to do and leaves the reader wanting more. This could be the teaser for a small collection of thoughts of ponies durring their last moments set up as chapters until the plague is either cured or wipes out every pony, or you could use it as a prologue to the MC's life (more importantly, the events leading up to his current situation) flashes through his mind as he is killed/eaten by them. Keep up the good work!
Vey sad and touching indeed here take this upvote as a token of my sadness.