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Her Message1,109 words

Her Message

She had sent me a message full of loyalty. Her message was pristine. She did not doubt me, though I yearned for her to. She wasn't brash with me; no one chose to. I knew her potential to end the violence. She was always loyal.

She wasn't always a hard worker, I know, but she had the heart of one. If she so chose to, her work would be the better out of the contenders. She simply had that gift of loyalty.

But loyalty was a curse. It was her curse from the start. It was everyone's curse; a curse I created.

I wanted her to end it. She was not the effects that I desired.

She was not a pony that deserved that gift of loyalty, so unfaltering.

She had sent me a message riddled in blood. She was different this time. So, very different. I almost wanted to believe in the fantasy that she couldn't, simply, have been as blood thirsty as she had been.

That she hadn't seen what she saw; the same pony that I placed in front of the facility, before she saw everything. But she had seen everything. Her words were different; a thorn from a rose would have been smooth when touched in comparison.

Had she seen fates end so shortly, so frequently it tainted her mindset? I didn't think so, not at the time. She was headstrong; stubborn in her beliefs. One like her couldn't have been swayed by the forces so easily.

So easily...and so swiftly, at that. But a pony that suffers such a fate that requires one to see the end of others... I ignored the thought entirely. I would always ignore that thought. It haunted the essence of my dreams.

I didn't stop the insanity. There wasn't any time to. I didn't have time for that. But that was a lie. "A rose by any other name is just as sweet." A comforting lie, by the end, is just a lie. A lie with a sweet name is just a false belief.

A monster could weave a magnificent tale full of lies, but no matter how magnificent the tale, the tale was still a lie told by sweet words, words that I used on a constant basis.

She had sent a message to me full of annoyance. Apparently a pony- a young one at that, was following her like a miniature shadow. An ounce of hope became relevant again as time passes on.

The more messages of annoyance sent, hope began to increase. While the moment seemed dull; her bloodshed was put on hold.

I beg this pony to help her. Anything to help her move passed the wreck.

Anything to stop this influx of carnage. Despite my age and wisdom, the truth alludes me. It always had alluded me in the past. It was a specialty of mine. Staring at the sun causes blindness; breaking the hearts were an effect of this blindness. An unwanted effect was still an effect.

A monster with claws as beautiful as the sun's rays were still claws. They still were nothing more than weapons used to kill.

But not every monster used their claws, like me.

Her messages seemed to fade as time passed, but she was happy. They were happy. Nopony remembered the end, anymore.

I knew better. She knew better. Everypony in the facility knew better than I wanted to believe. Better than what I had wanted to believe for myself. It was only when time seemed to stop, that I seemed to stop it.

But I was late. She was late.

She was covered in blood. She wanted to cry, but she was angry. She was angry at her savior.

I was angry at her; I wanted to blame her for my actions of indecisiveness.

I wanted her to be the villain in my tale. I didn't allow that to happen nonetheless. She knows I didn't allow that to happen.

A monster isn't always the creature that has obvious tendencies. A monster creates a web of deception. It doesn't need to be a creature belonging to the night or a lore of some kind. A monster can be a pony that is praised by all, but a monster no less. I should know.

But not every monster could fit in. A monster with tendencies to blend in, but not always. Just like me.

She sends me messages now. All of them faded and angry. Screaming for assistance I could not provide.

She wanted that pony to be them again. She was begging me for a response. I ignored her pleas. I had no ability to answer those pleas. I had no right to answer them. She saw the truth. I saw the truth before that pony's end came to be.

She wanted an answer. How could I answer for my indecisiveness? A coward can't answer for what they've done because they were too cowardice to begin with. I wasn't an exception.

Never was an exception.

Nightmare Moon was hailed as a beast that wanted nothing more than to take over the night; a pony that was a monster by literal means. A pony that simply changed to be one. However, she may have been the catalyst, but I was the creator.

She might have been hailed as a monster because of her open actions, but I was no better with a discrete betrayal. A pony that wanted to be a hero in a tale of sorrow; a pony thought to be an all knowing being still wishing to pursue that goal for them all. A pony that wished to prove to them my honesty.

She was never the villain; she never could live to be the villain. That's why the words were never spoken to the outside races. She was a victim of circumstance because of me. She was the faux villain all because of me.

A monster with wisdom and fans...a monster that was praised by all around, by far, was still a monster. A pony that acts like an all knowing being is still, in the end, just a single pony with a delusion of grandeur.

I was no exception.

I could never be an exception to that rule.

She sent me regret messages from then on, but I knew the truth and so had she.

Her messages were filled with that pony's blood, but she wasn't the pony the drenched it in the foul substance. It was me.

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