This Is Your Story!

by Mahayro

—

Another word written. Written because they found him.

Nopony was found. Nopony was alive. Was nopony heard, or seen, or just suspended by a twisted thread of fate?

The three mud-soaked mares gawked at the sight.

One pony. Or rather, the space occupying one pony, curled in a nest of earth, covered in mire and vomit and undigested tequila.

The story should have ended here, half-wrought and wholly forgotten in a pile of dirt and failed lessons in hydration. But it did not.

The blank pages beckon.

---

"Carrot..."

Berry Punch embraced the thing--hard, around the neck, squeezing, feeling, embodying empathy. It--she?--had adopted Colgate's role.

The thing gazed at the other thing--the pony-like non-thing in the dirt--impervious to the embrace. The former thing's name was Carrot Top. The latter thing...

Carrot had no considerations. She had no feelings. She had no real friends. She had no home. She had no story. She had no tethers left to sanity.

She just stood there. She stood there terribly, looking on with stained-glass eyes. The thing wanted the other thing to be, and also to not be. Life does not allow for such duplicity, however. She had to see it. But could she even believe it then?

Colgate also looked on. She wasn't happy; she had long since lost touch with happy, a friend from another era of her life. And she approached it.

"Hello there."

A shot of shimmering light blasted it.

And there he was--the pale unicorn. A coat of the moon, if slightly blue-green. Eyes banished of highlight and ringed in midnight. A few wisps of oily dark mane. A tiny bare tail. An unseen chipped tooth. Slight, gaunt. Days into young adulthood.

The pale unicorn gave up everything and ran.

But Berry was faster this time.

---

The color was familiar. The walls were familiar. The purpose of this room--too familiar.

The pale unicorn sat on the bed. His eyes considered three other beds. All four were simple and quaint and soft.

His eyes considered the walls. All four were light beige and smothered in crayon with doodles of various levels of skill. Doodle trees, doodle bugs, doodle friends. Doodle Mom, parts of a scraped-up Doodle Dad, and four doodle kids. Doodle stars, doodle moon, doodle fruits and vegetables, doodle eggs, doodle sun, doodle clouds. Doodle rocks (presumably), doodle farm animals, doodle zombies, doodle wizards, doodle knights, and many many doodles that were more doodle than thing.

His eyes considered the door. Locked, no doubt.

His eyes considered the wall lamp, a petty sconce with a candle.

His eyes considered the ceiling. There were stars made of little globs of stuff that must glow in the dark. The stars arranged...there was a constellation. A constellation of the head of Berry Punch. It was exactly the same Berry Punch that he had used to guide and write the story. The mouth sternly pursing just so. The mane lightly hanging just so. But he had not created this, and he did not use this for inspiration. Berry Punch gazed at him, and he knew this. Such a head must terrify anypony sleeping here. This was the pale unicorn's first real thought.

In truth, the pale unicorn likely had had and would yet have many thoughts. But they were not important.

Time passed.

The pale unicorn saw a new morning beyond the door. A cerulean mare with a white-shot cobalt blue mane strode in. The door held as its guard another mare in mauve and a gently-curled mane of warm Tyrian purple.

For all intents and purposes, they were Colgate and Berry Punch, respectively. But this wasn't like before. Before, they were only actors. Today, they also debuted as co-producers. The story, however, lacked its recording medium at this time.

Colgate removed the mattress from one bed and set its box-spring on top of a second bed. She brought this between herself and the pale unicorn to make a table or barrier. She brought the final unused bed to her position as a seat. And she began the next scene proper, expression calm and tone indifferent.

"We have no idea who you are. We cannot understand what you have done or why. But we also cannot help but feel you've been causing a lot of trouble for us lately. Frankly, I don't even wanna know. But we have to. And if we don't...well..." She glanced back.

"Ain't nopony leaves this world alive. But especially ponies who come between me and the ones I love." Berry's bitter frown and flattened ears left no room for interpretation.

Colgate nodded. Berry closed the door to leave the two to their devices.

The blue one's voice lowered. "You want out of this mess? All you gotta do is tell us what happened. Tell us why you were creeping around on us. What were you trying to accomplish? Did you have any plans? Who else is involved? 'Fess up and never come back, and that'll be that. In case you hadn't noticed, our lives are pretty hairy right now. We don't need any more wrenches in the works."

Her level face tilted toward happiness for a second as she waited for a reply. Then she pulled in close for an extra message. "Aw hay, I might even look the other way if you gimme that invisibility spell you've been using... Definitely some folks in high places who'd like to know about that."

The pale unicorn did not respond. Minutes passed with nothing but shared regards.

"Y'know, it's not exactly in your best interest to hold out. We've got places to be today that don't involve you. You don't want to be stuck in this room all day alone." Some hard humor entered her tone. "And I'm preeeetty sure you don't want to end up dealing with her all evening, either." A flash of her eyes toward the door explained that pronoun's use.

The pale unicorn did not respond. The unseen sun traveled a little further.

Colgate kicked back on the bed in a bizarre but relaxed-looking pose--forehooves crossed behind her head, leaning back on them against the wall, and hind legs also crossed atop the "table" between the two of them, her body nearly horizontal to manage the stretch. She had to bend her head down a bit to continue the stare-down.

After several more moments: "The ball's in your court. I'm getting rather bored, myself..." She sighed, then rolled off her bed to stand and knock on the door.

The actors traded places. The pale unicorn now faced a much grimmer figure--one who, without even lifting a hoof, carried every air of a sadist eyeing her next source of satisfaction. Her intensely indecent smile, the pale unicorn now considered, was so much unhappier than the frown above them.

"You know...I don't know who you're holding out for. I sure as hell don't know why. Because you're certainly not doing it for yourself. And unless you're even more bucked-up in the head than me, you...are...not doing it because you think it'll get you out of here in one piece."

She crossed the bed-table and briefly rested a forehoof on the pale unicorn, who was still covered in all manner of filth. Yes, I am touching you, she seemed to think at him. No, you will not like this.

"Forget freedom, you little pissant. You should be thinking about how you're going to live long enough for me to ask you another question. I know about you. I know. Me, though? I don't know about me. I might just lose control--"

Smack. The pale unicorn's neck gave into the blow, and he tumbled away from her, crashing to the floor and into the corner.

The camera had fallen over. So the pale unicorn righted himself once more on the bed.

The pale unicorn acted. He eyed through the wall. Why did you stop searching? Find the evidence. He eyed Berry directly once more. Berry's menace cracked as she shivered, still below and a pace and a half from his form.

"Holy shit you are the creepiest thing ever."

As she rounded back to sit across from him, the door opened. She bade Berry to come out. Berry came out. Berry came back alone.

"Looks like your good cop will be out for the morning..."

Colgate, not yet having shut the door, spat in response, "You're not supposed to tell him that!"

Focusing back on the pale unicorn: "Oh well. Doesn't really do you any good either way, now, does it? You can't buck with this ol' Berr."

And coincidentally, she was right.

"You really shouldn't try any funny business. But if you won't even say a word to Cole, then I already know this isn't going to end so well. Well, not for one of us." She cracked her fetlocks. "When I say I know, I mean I know this isn't your first time around the block. You've been causing trouble for a while now. Who knows how many free peep shows you've gotten in on? How much you've stolen from decent ponies? How much you've bucked with their heads? Who knows? I knows. And the answer is, 'all you'll ever get in your life', because that shit ends now."

Crack. She'd moved with impressive speed over the bed-table to rap the pale unicorn at the base of the horn. He tumbled into the same corner as before.

He got up more slowly this time. His right shoulder didn't sit right.

"Maybe...one day, I'll have you caught up on all the punishment for your past crimes. Then we can begin talking about you messing with my family. We'll see if you last that long."

She walked very, very slowly toward him on his bad side, eyeing the dislocated shoulder.

"You didn't even make a sound. Must be a bucking mute or something. Either that, or I should've gotten to know you before you chose this twisted-ass road of yours." She eyed all around him. "But that would make me the only thing worse than you, because you're a bucking child." Dolling up her voice most caustically: "A poor lost little foal, stumbled down the road of good intentions, right? Is that the story you're brewing up right now?" Back to no nonsense: "If you think for a buckin' minute that'll work on me, you can kiss your sorry ass goodbye."

She smashed her hoof right into the open socket. The camera tumbled once more and faded out.

"How many rounds you wanna go with ole Punchie, huh?" She stood on her hind hooves, hopping energetically from one leading hoof to another, punching the air above his collapsed and mangled mass.

He wanted to get up. He tried. But he now realized his forehooves were tied behind his back.

She settled down after he physically identified this.

"Oh, right. I just wanted to make things fair and all."

She picked him up by wrapping wisps of mane about a hoof and tried to drag him back on the bed to seating position. For several seconds, he didn't cooperate. Then his free legs acted in accord, and he was up again. Or rather, his hind end was up and his front end pushed hard against the box-spring in front of him.

She hopped to seat herself on the box-spring, then cast dual beams of condemnation on the muzzle below her. He beheld the ever-loving end of everything, Nightmare Incarnate framed by her own stellar avatar of displeasure.

"Now I ain't a dummy. I know any minute now, Cole's gonna come rushing back in here and give me an earful about how I'm the Queen of Evil 'cause I trashed some asshole kid who's just scared shitless and didn't know any better. But thing is, you do know better. Berry knows. Berry knows a lot more than you think. This ain't just some foal talk. You don't get that spooky-ass look in your eye without shuttin' a lot of doors, not without burnin' a lot of bridges. You went wrong. And you stayed wrong."

She peered down, craning her neck down to meet his jammed head. Their left eyes nearly touched.

She hovered there. She breathed. She was breathing consciously. She wanted him to hear her breathe. Though it was hard for him to tell, she must have dropped her sadistic smile. She looked all around his eyes, considering every tiny little muscle and filament. She did this slowly at first...and then her pace increased, as if frantically searching for something. She recomposed herself at full height, a different kind of disturbance creeping over her visage.

"You--you're not even trying to look at me when I do that. The buck is wrong with you? This could be the last day of your life, and you don't even care! Because...what? There ain't no trip in Equestria I know to make you act like that. You'd be passed out or some shit--sure as hell not trying to hold your head up." She stared into him once more, from the front--not seeking information this time, but delivering contempt.

"So I guess I take it back. Maybe you are lost. Like, lost cause kind of lost. Lickety Split on a bucking platter, are you lost. Minty Fresh isn't half as lost as you. Hell, Discord isn't as lost as you. Far as I'm concerned, the only thing more lost than you is the horse you rode in on--to think you could screw with my life. Maybe you went to the wrong address or something." She chuckled with a sudden notion, even squeaking at the end. "Well it ain't Nightmare Night, but you want something sweet to bite?"

And she turned around unceremoniously and sat on his head.

Crushing his skull into the firm box-spring between two surprisingly strong glutes: "I'm not even worried whether you'll actually like this, you're so lost. You're so lost, Daring Do would give up and leave you behind. You're so lost, Hayson Four-Heels couldn't find you. You're so lost, they tried to put a picture of your creepy-ass face next to the word 'lost' in the dictionary, but they lost that too. You're so lost, booze drinks you to forget the world."

As he did not respond, her voice came back around to twisted joy once more. "Oh pricks in a princess, you are just so precious. I'll have to put a chain on you or something. What was I even worried about with your sorry little ass? I think I found myself a chew-toy."

The door opened. A very audible sigh issued from it. (That was probably a sigh and not anything issued from Berry.)

"I figured you'd be off your rocker, Berry, but this is beneath you."

Not budging: "So? Just reminding this little shit-stain what he is. He can thank me for copping a feel later."

"Look--I can tell that you don't really mean that. What's going on here?"

"Still hasn't said a goddess-damned word... And I'm beginning to think he can't even say anything anyway." Then she got up.

Berry seated next to Colgate normally on the bed. Colgate was holding the story.

The pale unicorn hovered the book out of everypony's reach and started to write.

Colgate snapped at Berry not to interrupt this, raising a single shouting note and cutting her off from charging with a foreleg across the chest. "Well, then, we let him speak now."

This continued, their attentions held as magical word-scorching rolled by; then, as captured seconds turned into minutes, Colgate's curiosity got the better of her. She fought the horn-magic with her own to pull the book back down, then peered at the writing.

" 'You don't get that spooky-ass look in your eye without shuttin' a lot of doors, not without burnin' a lot of bridges.' Berry, I think he's retelling your interrogation."

"Well a good memory ain't gonna save him from shit, because we're the only ones who're gonna see it. Not unless he suddenly snaps out of this creepy trance and starts acting like somepony with a brain.

"So I take it you found this at Carrot's...?" Berry trailed off--startled by her own guilt and sorrow at what had happened there, echoed in the waver at the end of her friend's name.

Colgate stared at her tellingly, allowing for that self-inflicted wound to linger a second, before refocusing on the story in her reply. "That's where it was. I found a nice candy-stripe umbrella too, but I don't think that...really..."

She watched and waited. She waited for the next words to be written. And these words. And these.

Her head tilted slowly. She gave up trying to understand, her entire expression falling away to disabling non-comprehension.

"Dammit! Now look what you've done to her! That's a magic book, isn't it? You're doing some hoodoo horseshit now with--hey! Gimme

---

AND THEY KILLED THE BUCKFACE WHO TRIED TO WRITE THIS BOOK

THE END