I, Monster

by Magenta Cat

Chapter 1: "The Blackest Night falls from the sky…"

The imaginary pony
lived in an imaginary house
in the midst of imaginary trees
on the bank of an imaginary river

From walls which are imaginary
hang ancient imaginary framed paintings
irreplaceable imaginary images
which recall imaginary events
which took place in imaginary worlds
in imaginary places and times

Every imaginary afternoon
she goes up imaginary staircases
and leans over the imaginary balcony
to survey the imaginary landscape
which is made up of an imaginary valley
surrounded by imaginary hills

Imaginary shadows
approach from an imaginary path
singing imaginary songs
to the demise of the imaginary sun

And during imaginary moonlit nights
dreams with an imaginary pony
who offered to her their imaginary love

Once again she felt this same pain
the very same imaginary pleasure
and once again began to palpitate
the heart of the imaginary pony

---

Trixie is… wet. Cold and wet.

She blinks and looks around. In all her time off adventuring with her friends, she had never imagined them going through miserable weather like this. Blinking water from her eyes, she tosses her mane back and looks around again. Her neck aches when she moves it, the joints cracking loudly. It feels as if it’s the first movement she’s made in a very long time. Out of reflex, Trixie stretches, cracking the rest of her joints. That’s when she feels something weird on her--

“Oh.” She looks at her paws, sporting the razor sharp claws she almost forgot.

The north wind howls again, showering Trixie with a cold she hasn’t felt in what feels like years. She looks up, where the storm has taken the place of the moon and the stars. A burst of lightning cuts across the sky. Trixie lowers her gaze to look around her in order to see where she is. It is… Ponyville. She is back in Ponyville, but not as she imagined it. Trixie realizes she is standing on a stone platform. She jumps down, but staggers upon landing, every muscle in her body protesting with pain and the promise of more if she does that again.

As the cold starts to creep deeper into Trixie, she begins to move. It isn’t easy, as each motion brings only more pain. She is in agony. Muscles ripping, tendons screaming, bones feeling like they’re going to snap. But above it all, Trixie feels tired. Broken, spent, unable to move. It’s almost as if she had trotted galloped the entire road between the Frozen North and the Badlands. But she needs to move. The rain hits harder by the second and the cold brought by the wind is getting worse.

Trixie just wants to get someplace warm, someplace safe. She just wants to get home.

Struggling through the rain, she makes her way towards the one home she can recall. It’s not a clear memory, but she remembers the library.

---

“No!” Twilight Sparkle woke up with a jump.

She sat there for a while, looking at the shadows in her room. Unable to move. Unable to remember the nightmare. Unable to think about anything but able to feel fear. Five other ponies did the same that night. The fright was too much for them to feel anything else. To realize that the storm had come back.

---

“I don’t belong.”

Trixie looked around herself. She was inside a dark room, almost pitch black.

“I shouldn’t be here, this isn’t right.”

The place looked like a library, but in a severe state of disarray and destruction. Most, if not all of the woodwork was either broken or had scorch marks. Likewise, what was left of the books looked as if they had been submerged in water and then thrown around. Only some shelves in a corner seemed to have escaped whatever hit the place, and even the remnants of books they once contained were heavily deteriorated. Trixie didn’t know why, but she was very tired.

“But I did came back,” she thought. “Why?”

She remembered some things, probably her life. There were others. Ponies she cared about and who cared about her in return. There was something else too. Something Trixie hated, and feared. It was a threat, always present. She couldn’t grasp it all, but she could tell something happened to her involving both extremes. Trixie got up. There was something she knew was in the back of her mind, a key piece that would give sense to it all. She began to trot in order to clear her mind.

It all started with hate. No, not hate; despair. She remembered being desperate, and afraid. Trixie was in a bad situation, stripped of everything she loved and left with no hope of ever getting any of it back. There was also greed. She didn’t just want revenge, but also to gain from it. All of those emotions drove her to accept something. Trixie tried to figure out what did she did, but whatever it was, it turned against her. It twisted her and her mind. She was betrayed and as a result, Trixie…

Trixie died.

She had to sit after remembering her death. She couldn’t remember exactly how she died, but there was a lot of her own blood splattered in front of her. The stress made Trixie lean on a half burnt bust to support herself. She felt the tears coming out as she also remembered she was alone when it happened, and had been alone for a long time before it. Just like now. Trixie died as she lived, alone.

Then why did she remember other ponies? Why did she feel like it didn’t end with her death?

A lightning bolt illuminated the room through a hole in its wall, which Trixie hadn’t noticed before. She trotted over it to investigate, but as she did, she also looked aside.

She froze for a moment, seeing a monster standing before her.

---

Trixie looks again at the endless space. That is literally all she can do.

When she started, she began to regret her decision, but as usually happened in Trixie’s life, and in whatever it was that succeeded it, it was too late for regrets. And so, now she can’t move, she can’t speak, she can’t hear. All she can do is see into the endless white in front of her.

Alone.

Alone in the white void.

By the end of the first day, Trixie is completely insane. The initials hours are the worst. She is assaulted by memories, guilt and regrets. The more she remembers why she is there, the worse the assault becomes. Gradually, her own regrets become fears. The fears become terrors. At the end, the terrors are too present to be just a thought, and Trixie is confronted with hallucinations of her own life. She is trapped between the horrors of a regretful past and a terrifying future.

And then, nothing.

Just white.

Minutes become centuries. Centuries become seconds. Seconds become eons. Eons become milliseconds. The infinite inside continuity, one inside another in an endless abyss of recursive irreality.

After an eon of milliseconds, Trixie realizes that time has become meaningless where she is. Same as space. The very idea of dimensions seems to not apply anymore in Trixie’s new reality. Even what she first interpreted as white was really just void. There is no light, nor darkness, nor harmony, nor chaos. Even life is just a relative term to describe existence, making death as meaningless as everything else. The physical world ceased to exists and there is only Trixie and what she wants to make out of that.

She realizes how peaceful it all is.

Trixie is no longer bound to anything. True freedom and peace, as she so much needed and desired deep inside her heart. She relaxes all her past perceptions. She is pure thought now. Trixie finds something that reminds her of joy in the serenity of it all. She allows that to build as she keeps recalling the good things of her past and the still present promises of her future. All the good and bad of Trixie’s life are all there for her to claim. The good to drive her, and the bad to teach her.

Trixie has come to terms with herself, existing in peace inside the white void. That’s how she spends her first second of eternity.

The next one begins when she starts to imagine.

---

The north wind howled in the distance.

Trixie tried to stay still, expecting that the monster wouldn’t see her if she didn’t move. So far, it looked like it was working. The two red, glowing eyes staring back at her hadn't moved either. Without moving anything else but her gaze, she inspected the beast, trying to discern if it was something she either knew how to face, or how to escape from.

It was bigger than a pony, almost as big as one of the Princesses. Its skin was jet black, sans four white stripes crossing its chest like a ‘V’. The featureless face only sported two red eyes, surrounded by white markings, like the ones of a killer whale. There were also wings over the monster’s back, folded over it and covering most of its sides, but letting its forelegs out. The limbs were slightly red, ending in what looked like claws to Trixie. That’s when she noticed the chains surrounding the upper forelegs. Since it stayed unmoving, Trixie reasoned that the monster may have been chained down. To test her theory, she tried to move away from it.

Thunder roared outside.

A flash of lightning illuminated the room, giving Trixie a full view of the monster, and the frame of the mirror where it was.

“No,” Trixie whispered. “No, no, no, no, no.” She shook her head with each repetition.

In order to avoid looking at the monster (it wasn’t a mirror), Trixie looked down at her own hooves (they were still hooves). To her horror, she saw two crimson paws, edged with the same claws the monster had (it wasn’t a mirror).

“What happened to me?” She was stranded there not knowing what was going on.

The north wind howled again, this time entering the destroyed library through the hole in the wall and washing over Trixie. That’s when she realized she wasn’t feeling cold anymore, or anything else. Trixie knew she was alive, but she couldn’t feel. The only thing she felt was a numb sensation all over her body. With reluctance, she looked again at the mirror, once more seeing herself as the black monster, and only now did she now realize she was wearing a costume.

The costume was all Trixie could feel. She needed to get it off, get away from it. Hastingly, Trixie took off the mask first, breathing in all the air she could, now that her muzzle was free. Then, she looked at her hooves, covered in the scarlet cloth. She bit down on the left one, feeling four fangs as she did so, and pulled the thing off.

“Stars!” Trixie cried when she saw the three razor sharp claws. “What am I?!”

She fell back, sitting down between a bookshelf and a desk.

“What am I?” Trixie hugged her back legs against her barrel.

---

Trixie inspected her own hoof.

It took her another second of eternity to remember exactly how her old body, the real one, felt. At first, it was rudimentary, like a badly drawn sketch. However, Trixie always had a knack for detail, and knowing her own body wasn’t beyond her. The first things she recalled were her senses; touch, hearing, smell, taste and finally sight. From there, she followed with the form of her body. A head, a torso, four hooves. Trixie kept adding the details to her imaginary body as she could remember them, until all that was left were the colors.

Finally, Trixie pictured herself, down to the last detail, moving her left hoof in front of her face.

She kept imagining, pouring willpower into her fantasy.

Trixie realized while she herself was now present, she hadn’t added anything to her surroundings, so she started with the feeling of ground under her hooves. It started as a line, then a plane, then a space. When she got where she could do so, Trixie began to walk. At first, she was only moving her hooves and shifting herself forward. It soon got boring, so Trixie imagined herself the one thing she craved the most in a featureless void: a road.

The more she advanced down the road, the more she added to her imaginary world. Telling herself her own story, Trixie found herself exiting the darkest of forests and entering an open valley, high up in the mountains. It wasn’t too complex, as Trixie still only wanted something simple. Nevertheless, for her, feeling the green foliage under her hooves and seeing the blue sky above her head were the best feelings she could have. Trixie threw herself over on her back, enjoying the sensations around her the most she could.

There, in her little fictitious world, she could have and be whatever she wanted.

Author's Note:

Nightwalker: So, what's all this then?

Wave Blaster: This? A story I think.

Night: We still do those?

Wave: Apparently.

: I can't remember you two, but for some reason, I want to kick the one with the Spanish accent.

Special credits to Nicanor Parra, for El Hombre Imaginario (The Imaginary Man), which inspired this chapter's intro.

Comments

[An-Twan Star]

So here we are, with the long awaited I, Monster. I don't have much to say at this point apart from the fact that I like the surrealist vibe that chapter one has going on. And Trixie's bout of surprise and denial of the situation at hoof was also great, It'll be interesting see how she digs herself out of that one.

[Belligerent Bindlestiff]

I imagine this experience for Trixie is somewhat akin to non-linear existence in the void, except backwards. Her progression seems incongruent to actual order of events, yet takes pieces of some of her experiences at once?

[Dr Freaky]

Yay! Trixies back1

[Majk]

Ahahaha finaly! Time to get me nerd groove on and get some quality reading.

[Majk]

Welp, that's one way for dealing with being stoned....
I regret nothing!

[Starcat5]

8346430
And her front as well.

[Magenta Cat]

8346369
Yeah, btw, thanks a lot for the feedback in the early chapters. We put the oficial thanks in the A/N's of the next chapter, but you deserve the acknowledge now.

When it comes to surrealism, I like to mix it with Magic Realism imagery, as an homage to the Latin American literature of my culture. Also, ever since I started reading Grant Morrison (Doom Patrol, Flex Mentallo) that I enjoy surrealism as a whole, specially when it comes to externalizing a character's inner psyche. In Trixie's case, there's a lot going on in her mind, so a lot of things are going to happen.

8346390
Well, the point we tried to bring home here is that she's amnesiac and only from the scene inside the library (the first part to have past tense instead of present) is where she's completely lucid. She does remember being out in the streets before (previous scene) and some pieces from when she was an obsidian statue.

We'd like to deep into that experience; explore what Trixie did there.

8346430
It took a while, but hopefully it was worth the wait.

8346471
Yeah, reading!
8346484
To be fully honest with you, I've been exploiting that joke to every extreme since chapter 4 or 5 in "Actually, I'm Dead". Ask Nightwalker. He had to put up with "so, when we get Trixie stoned..." and "so, Stoned!Trixie gets free when...". It's been a riot.

8346637
Oh boy, if you knew. As I usually say, Mare-Do-Well: Regeneration was very influential in my style, so take a guess on how hard will things become for Trixie.

8346697
I have nothing to add.

[Twilight_Crow]

Yussss! It is finally here! Thanks for the sequel Wave Blaster!

[Magenta Cat]

8350015
Thanks for reading, Twilight Crow.

[NicLove]

Before I read this, what is the Horror and Dark tag for ?
And how bad does it get ?

[Magenta Cat]

8351907
I'd say it will be in the same tone of "Actually, I'm Dead".

[Ze1a7in]

So Trixie is in a void, with nothing but her thoughts, memories, and imagination for company? Neat.

[Magenta Cat]

8352954
Yeah, pretty much. I felt thta being stone would mean a total sensory deprivation, which reduces any form of perception to the inner mind, which is what Trixie is experiencing.

[Frankie2]

So, Trixie was released some time after Tirek? And she goes to the charred remains of the library? But at the same time, she' still in stone? Okay, I'm just plain confused.

[nightwalker]

8357267
It's a little while after the prequel, and well before Tirek. The library got the way it did because... well, you did read the last chapter of Actually, I'm Dead, right?

Italics are meant to denote flashbacks to events earlier than the main narrative. Past events will have caught up to present in a few chapters from now. We can see she was in stone, but obviously now is not. You'll see why in a bit.

[Frankie2]

8358818 I actually skimmed through the last chapter and skipped the one before that. I have a lot of trouble following some of the mental stuff (like this chapter).

[nightwalker]

8358826
Ah, that explains it. The second last chapter has a lot of character building for Trixie and Discord. The very last one... that has a lot of critical elements to where we are now and where we'll be going. Strongly suggest reading over.

[Vigriff]

Trixie is… wet.

[Magenta Cat]

8360777
Yep, wrong choice of words.

[Prince Leviathan]

Don't think I didn't recognize that Crooked Man reference.
Because I did.

And I love you (platonically of course) for it.

[Magenta Cat]

8431323
What we wanted to do with the parallel narratives was to externalize Trixie's inner turmoil. Remember that chapter from Dead that nobody liked? We're doing a mark II with the intro, by having the main character's destroyed perspective affect the narrative itself.

Also, a lot of concepts or developments from both fics come from dreams I've had. Some more coherent (like the scene with the animals in Dead) and other less so, like the entire chapter 4 of this one.

8434713
Uuuuuuuuuh, okay. I'm going to play honesty here and say I have no recollection of a Crooked Man reference. Still, thanks for reading and commenting, as usual, pal.

[Ninjadeadbeard]

I really hope your writer’s block clears up soon. The Great and Powerful Trixie deserves a happy ending after this.

[Magenta Cat]

9817343
As I said on the blogpost, it doesn't look like cleaning up in the foreseeable future, but one of my main motivations is to either give Trixie her happy ending, or at least some closure.

[Magenta Cat]

9817343
Either way, thanks for the support.

[Prince Leviathan]

8437042
Honestly it was the Imaginary Man(Pony) story at the beginning which was very similar to the Crooked Man poem from The Crooked Man game.
But I guess it doesn't really matter much years later.

[Magenta Cat]

10788037
It still matters to me. IDK if I'll ever retake "I, Monster", but I'd like to. Who knows.

[Discoris]

If you read my previous comment (it's more of live reaction filtered by logic [more or less]) you can see 4 out of 5 stages of grief
1. Denial
2. Anger
3. Bargain
4. Depression

11692774

Acceptance appeared couple hours later (and then came back to depression)

[Magenta Cat]

11693488
Again, very sorry.