The Demons Inside

by Paradox Theory

Prologue: Stonewall's Legacy

Author's Note:

This is the only chapter from 1st person view.

The rest of the story is a third person story. Enjoy!

Also yes, he is overreacting. Aren't you the sharp one?

What are all of you doing here? Am I wanted? Do I need to get out of your way or throw away my opinion for you?

No?

. . .

You want to hear about what made me this way? I don't think you need to know my story, just go away.

. . .

Still here? Fine, I'll tell you what happened, and why I don't want to see anypony ever again.

---

Ever since I was little, I had a hard time interacting with other ponies. I didn't know how, you see.

Things that were supposed to be natural were impossible for me to grasp.

Eh, at least it means I'm weird enough that ponies don't bother me.

Most of the time.

In school, my teachers would try and get me to do things their way. Even if it was stupid, and I didn't want to.

I learned that I'd be slaving like this to almost everypony. My happiness doesn't matter. Their wallets do.

I wasn't free to do what I wanted, because it was conflicting with their perfect design.

That's when I decided to run off, to hide myself away in plain sight. To do only what I wanted.

One of my earliest memories of rebelling was when I was about 7. I was asked to point to a place on a map. I didn't want to. They told me to.

I didn't want to.

Most of my classmates and teachers learned that day what trying to get me to do something I didn't want to would cause.

The next big memory came when I was a bit older. about 10-11. I was being yelled at, and I didn't know why. I wanted to curl into a ball and hide. I was terrified.

After that, came my years of puberty and early adulthood.

When everypony found their talent, I didn't. I was still busy making others happy to focus on my future. I had slowly and slowly became a shell of my former self. Saying and doing things that made others leave me alone.

All outward emotion had stopped.

I had begun to grow a hate for other ponies.

I made exceptions yes, I had a few friends and some family.

But beyond those, I couldn't bring myself to accept others.

And one day, on pure accident, I hurt someone I cared about. And I left.

I walked away.

I hated myself now.

---

I heard ponies around me, telling me to stop.

Stop what? I don't know.

There's a couple of ponies fighting in front of me, one is covered in what I assume is their blood. The other pony is wailing on him.

Wait, that pony. . .

His gray fur, brown mane.

That's me.

It's happening again.

And just like that, I was standing over the pony who was being hit. His muzzle was broken, blood pouring out of his nose.

I could feel his blood running down my still raised foreleg.

I immediately took off, terrified.

It's happened before, you know.

Spurts of uncontrollable rage.

Always aimed at innocent ponies.

The pony I just hit? He was bugging me out of boredom. I could've walked away, and I should have.

But sometimes, I snap, and then I'm not inside my body. I'm outside of it, watching it act of it's own accord.

The first time I noticed it, I was merely a colt, and I almost broke a filly's neck.

Since then, it's been on and off.

I never stay in town anymore. I'm afraid anything could set me off.

I've been told I was a good pony, but I don't think I am.

I've hurt so many, and I've pushed many more away.

I came to this town, Stalliongrad I think, to blend in and be unnoticeable.

But it happened again.

Now I sat in a bar, drowning my troubles away in cider. Alcohol free, Sweet Apple Acres quality. The best kind there is.

As I downed my cider, I heard two stallions talking.

"So, you really think there's a treasure in the Everfree?" The first one whispered.

The second one nodded, "Yeah, and there's a small town on the edge of the forest. Small and out of the way, they won't notice any newcomers."

It sounded too good to be true.

Do you really think you can outrun me? A voice whispered in my head.

That's another thing, after the first time I noticed these spurts of rage, I noticed the voice as well.

It scares me, and all I want is to be left alone, then I won't hurt anypony. Right?

---

I could tell you more, but I'm terrible at explaining things and I need to see if Ponyville is really what they say it is.

My name? Well, I guess you can call me Stonewall.

Now, farewell, I have a trek ahead of me.