Utter

by Regina Wright

On Only One Ounce

On swaying feet, Mark made his way through his apartment building and to his door 383. In his hands, he carried his groceries to keep his fridge full. In his pockets, his regular meds and a few downers for the next night. Thursday was so far, it being a week away, he'd probably piss out any extra chemicals out of his body by then. And if Dr. Ward wasn't such an ass, Mark wouldn't have to wander around streets to pay out of pocket for the same shit he could have gotten legally.

Placing the bags on the floor, Mark jams in the key and braced his shoulder against the door. With a click and a strong shove, his door opens ajar. Barely enough room to force his boot through but he does, forcing the door the rest of the way. The water damage from the folks from upstairs swelled up the door frame and made it a battle to get in and out. Mark liked the door. Kept him from making any impulsive decisions. He could only go where he pleased when he made up his mind to it and this place suited him just fine.

Mark picked up his goods and strolled in, sitting his bags of insta-dinners and canned soups on the counter. Hardly missing a beat, he walked around to the kitchen, passing the white winged unicorn making herself comfortable on his garage sale found sofa. Mark placed the frozen meals into the fridge. Counted the cans he left on the table six times. Then bowed his head, closing his eyes.

“You're not real.” He said, his hands becoming entangled in the plastic bags still on the counter. “You're not real.” He said again, opening his eyes. “I need to call Dr. Ward. This isn't something I can-” Mark glanced up, something cold and hard sinking in the bottom of his stomach as he realized she vanished.

“Boo.” The creature purred against his ear, her colorless eyes glinting in the dawn light.

“Ahh!” Mark flew back against the kitchen cabinets, his head colliding with the hard wood and resulting in a groan.

“Shit. What are yo-”

He refused to consider what she looked like. Her radiant hair blew in nonexistent wind, passing through the solid objects and walls. Bathed in black and white, the sparkling specter was statuesque as she reigned over the kitchen appliances. Making all that was close to her blurry and distorted.

“Language, young colt.” The winged unicorn lifted her head, her sharp horn grazing against the low ceiling as she towered over all in the tiny apartment. The only thing taller might have been the wall lamp he left by the front entrance, a gift from his step-mom. “In all our memories, I do not remember teaching you such swears and I will not be encouraging that habit. Discipline is something you've sorely lacked but do not worry, I shall provide.”

Mark touched the back of his head, patting his messy hair for a growing bump. There wasn't one to be found but his head pounded like he decided to play basketball with his skull. His right hand moved to his left arm, lifting up the sleeve and pinching the skin there. He felt the slight pain and saw the reddening of his skin. He wasn't dreaming. He wasn't asleep!

“Who are you?” He demanded, quickly throwing his hands into his pockets and taking out every drug he had. “Why am I even seeing you? I took three in the last two hours. Well, I think I took three.” He threw his face into his hands, dragging his short nails down over the skin as if the pain could make the sight before his eyes any less real. “I don't want to risk overdosing myself.” He frowned. “I think I'll call 911. Then overdose.”

“I am Celestia.” The thing stated, a haughty smile on her lips. “Fate has divided us these long fourteen years but today, I have finally made it through the barrier of medical aids and your own denial of me. I am here to release you from yourself. You shall be remade as you were, my dear colt.”

“Keep talking. Too busy overdosing to care.” Mark muttered, walking over to his home phone and lifting the receiver to his ear. He dialed a few numbers and got a deadpan tone welcome to his call. “Hi, I would like to report a possible emergency. You see, I'm a diagnosed-” The line went dead. Mark lifted the phone and stared at the cut line. Floating scissors rotated in the air, mocking him, before they dropped suddenly to the floor.

He clung to the phone, refusing to fall for the illusion. “Hello? Are you still there?” Only silence answered. “You guys record calls, right? I can't hear you but- My name is Patrick Santera and I'm suffering an audio-hallucination right now. This is my first time experiencing one so vividly but my address is-”

"I have spent far too much time watching you as you stumbled from your one true path. Indulging in your idle mind-altering items. Denying Equestria. Denying me. Do you believe I would allow you another chance to deny me once more!” The mockery of Celestia shouted, her wings rising as she reared onto her back legs. “I have always been with you! I shall always be with you! I beg for forgiveness for not reaching you sooner. The magic here is thinner than it is in Equestria. And your foul toxins increased your resistance to my presence.”

Mark lowered the phone, letting it fall from his hands.

“Nevertheless, there is magic and I have reached you.” She returned to her original stance, her wings resting on her back. “This unhappy fate, I will change it for my beloved bo-”

“Do you-” Mark whispered, “think I'm stupid?”

The thing flickered, her body becoming truly transparent for a second. Her colorless eyes narrowed at his words. “Is this not what you've hoped for? I, returning for you. I, taking you home. How cruel of you to lie to your own heart? I've been with you. Always. I've listened keenly to what you have uttered in the dark.”

“So has my psychiatrist! All of my psychiatrists! You think that knowing this makes you special? I'm a fucked up cookie, I know this.” The man babbled. “Who do you think you are, showing up like I'm supposed to be running into your arms? Using her voice to play with my head. You're just like the rest of them!” He shook his head, his hands clasping together as his eyes took to the floor. “Maybe you are the real her? I wouldn't be able to tell but she wouldn't do this. Not like this.”

“Not she. I.” The thing snapped. “I am Celestia! Why must you fight me, boy?”

“Why are you saying her name wrong? I can hear it in your worm of a tongue. The hate. The disbelief. I can hear every bit of it.” Mark said, his hands clinching as his nails dug into skin. Drops of blood slid through the gaps of his palms, trickling to the floor. “I hate it when people say it wrong. It took me weeks for say it right. Weeks.” A silence and then- “It took me so long that of course I'd call her what was easier. I called her-”

Mark broke, his heart boiling in his chest.

“Mommy.” He gripped his shirt, crumbling against the sink. "You don't understand how much I-" His voice rose. "Fuck! I hate this. I won't take this! Leave me alone! Go away! Leave!"

“Hmm, I can feel your emotions oh so sweetly. Divine is one's torment to a god such as myself. I'm even a little jealous. Perhaps, I've always underestimated you. I thought you would be begging for the chance to be proven right. To perhaps go on a little rampage on my behalf in the name of the dark queen Celestia.” The creature cackled, stalking closer and closer to him. Mark went to move but her horn beat him to it first, the point pressing against his neck.

It felt very, very real.

“Mortals are such contradictory things. Nevertheless, the magic is still here and you'll do fine as a host. Who knew humans were such magical sponges? Your very essence is still soaked with her potent magic.” She noted, her voice drunk and low in her reverie. “I've been nibbling at your mind for years but I have yet to reach the great ocean that dwells within you. Not until now. I shall enslave this colony of peasants in this apart building to make an army before I depart. Yes, they'll do finely.”

Her horn moved to his forehead, cutting a thin line across the skin. Mark sucked in a breath.

“You need not worry. I have fondness for you as well. Before I throw her into the sun, I will let you have a few words. Maybe.”

Her horn drove straight through.

Author's Note:

Extra Short

Mark: You've been following me all this time and you didn't know that it was called a apartment?

Shade of Celestia: Child, I have been busy breaking down your defenses and worrying about your health. It wouldn't bode well for me if you dropped dead before I could take your flesh.

Mark: Apartment.

Shade of Celestia: More of an colony of fools, really. But if you wish I will blow up the building to make it an apart building. Will that suffice?

Mark: Please don't do that. I live here.

Shade of Celestia: *destroys building*

Shade of Celestia: The puny humans have just brought me a dictionary. It says, 'apart building'. Glorious.

Mark: It's written in marker.

Comments

[LostFaith]

Even darker...

[ValenceBond]

Imma watching this, just wondering how deep this rabbit hole goes.