Chapter One: The Human, The Landlord, and The Draconequus
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// Living the Good Life// by Aetherpony
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// Chapter One: The Human, The Landlord, and The Draconequus //------------------------------//
“God I need a better job,” you whisper to yourself as you turn over in a broken framed bed that is much too small for you. Your name is Anonymous Unknown, and your life isn’t a happy one. Here you are living in a small, rundown apartment on the far end of a large bustling city. Even though your apartment room is in a state of disrepair, the rent for it is an astonishing amount. It’s forced you to take sixty to seventy hour weeks working at a nearby factory. Even then you barely manage to pay your bills.
Thanks to your lumpy mattress you’re unable to find enough comfort to go to sleep. Instead your mind begins to wander. There were many instances where your life has gone wrong. For one, you should have gone to college, oh wait you did! You curse as you toss and turn on your cumbersome mattress. Just where did you go wrong? Well there’s a small list of reasons you had that explained that. First off you graduated from high school ranking pretty close to the rest of those Advanced Placement kids.
The second portion of that list would have to be that you got into the college your parents chose. They said that this university would help shape you for your career. You believed them and thanks to you working your rear off you graduated from said college a year early. It’s too bad no one told you the world has no need for men of your profession. Your parents told you that becoming a journalist was the way to go. What they didn’t tell you was that journalists are a dime a dozen.
The third portion, and perhaps the real reason, involved your sister. The issues you had with her was a problem all on its own. She was the source for a lot of issues that you faced throughout both high school and college, even now you do. It’s because of her you’ve been prone to random bouts of anger. You can’t help it; there are just some points in your life where you can’t simply contain your rage if it surfaces. In fact that same problem is why you’re here now, but that’s a story for another day.
So here you are, wasting your life away working at some dilapidated factory; a metal distilling factory to be exact. The best part about working there would have to either be the lack of insurance or the apparent danger your tasks presented. Your fellow employees would take bets on who would lose a finger to the super-heated metal first. That is until that bet was won. A certain employee wasn’t paying attention and he paid for it. You could say that thanks to that idiot you steered clear of reckless behavior, especially since you’ve got a feeling that the next one who loses a finger would be you.
After all, you have had plenty of close calls working with outdated equipment. You sigh as you turn over yet again. You’ve been at this job of yours for about a year now and it’s starting to wear you down. This terrible, broken bed didn’t help things along, neither did the crushing boredom you felt in between work and sleep. Perhaps you’d buy a desktop, maybe even a television, but a computer over precious food didn’t sit too well with you. Eating is a higher priority. Regardless when would you use it? If you aren’t working, you’re sleeping. Your social life is down the drain at this point. To be fair you haven’t had a real social life since you were a child anyway. So even if you did get a desktop it’s not like you’d have anyone to talk to.
There’s no way in hell you’d socialize with your fellow employees. You’re pretty sure a good half of them deal in some sort of illegal activity on the side, and that doesn’t sit too well with you. The other half like to be incompetent fools that wouldn’t know how to operate a forklift if their lives depended on it. On more than one occasion you’ve had to pick up where another worker was slacking. Too bad you didn’t bring in any extra cash as a result.
At this point in time it wouldn’t come as a surprise if a person barely into their twenties would ask for help from their parents. Unfortunately you don’t have that luxury; you did more than enough harm to burn that bridge for good. Regardless of whether your parents would help you or not, you’re not one to ask for a handout. You’d rather get things done yourself, and you’d be damned if you were going to ask for help unless you became desperate.
But one thing you’d love to get help with is the lack of activity you’re forced to endure. With only having your job and sleep to keep you busy the time in between is spent doing nothing more than eating. As far as hobbies go you didn’t really have the time to develop one. Even if you did it’d probably be counting the cracks in your ceiling or something mind-numbingly dull. This lack of entertainment is starting to grate on your last nerve.
Unless you found something soon you were liable to burn something. At least that’d keep you entertained for a few minutes at best. It was either that or you could start messing with people instead of going to your job. You could probably think up a few pranks…
Your thoughts are interrupted by a peculiar sound of something cracking and splintering. Your bed creaks under you before you suddenly drop. Well, at least your bed isn’t at an awkward angle anymore. Almost as if on cue there’s a knock on your door.
“Anonymous, get your pasty ass out here!” The thick Italian-accented shouting of your landlord calls your attention. You’ve learned from experience that it wasn’t a good idea to keep him waiting. The last time you did it seemed like he was going to kick through your door. As you reluctantly get out of bed and avoid the broken wood from your bed frame you hear him start to pound his fist on your door rather than knock.
“Hold on, I’m coming,” you’re sure to yell as you head to your door. You open it to find a rather short individual staring up at you with brown bloodshot eyes. As you’d expect, he looks like the slob he’s shown that he can be. His short black hair has been matted down with grease, and it shined despite the poor illumination the hallway outside provided. The tanned skin that showed through his stained wife beater seemed to be covered in bits of white dead skin flakes. Your eyes glance further down to find that he’s decided to wear grease stained blue jeans and blackened socks with holes in the toe area. At least you believed those were his toes, his keg-like stomach seemed to block them from view. When you look back to his face again you can see him grinding his yellow teeth from behind that bushy black mustache of his. That’s a terrible habit, but then again judging by his teeth he doesn’t really care.
“Took your lazy ass long enough.” He reaches into his pants pocket and hands you a crumpled sheet of paper. Upon inspection you find that it’s an eviction notice. You curse under your breath as you read the contents of the letter. “Ya got a week, kid. The city’s shutting this place down. Something about—“ you cut him off before he can finish.
“Let me guess Freddy, the roach and rat problem, and probably the situation with the broken sheet rock?” You point to a hole in the middle of the wall behind him. The wood within the hole is in about the same condition as your bed frame. His nod answers your question. Almost as if to emphasize the poor conditions of this apartment complex, a rat the size of your foot comes scurrying by you. You yelp in disgust before moving away from the rodent. It chitters incessantly as it makes its way into another nearby hole in the wall.
Then you hear it start to screech in agony. The rat runs out of the hole only to have a roach that rivals its size follows close behind. The roach grabs it and slowly drags it back into its hole. You and Freddy stand in shocked silence for all of a few seconds before you promptly crumple up your eviction notice. Yeah, you’ve had about enough of this place. You’ll take what little money you have and leave.
“Hey!” He doesn’t seem too pleased by your reaction. You can’t seem to find a reason to care anymore. It’s not like he’ll have to deal with you again.
“What are you gonna do about it you fat fuck?” You watch as Freddy’s face turns beet red. This guy really needs to work on his anger issues. It’s why you hate him and it’s why his wife divorced him. You really hated this prick, he’d come knocking at all hours of the night, waking you up, just to complain about late rent or some other kind of meaningless problem.
“I’ll have you know—“ You interrupt him for the second time tonight.
“That you’re a fucking prick? Thanks, I already knew that one.” You give him the best deadpan glare you could. He stammers a bit before growling. The poor guy is shaking from your petty insult. He starts to grind his teeth again and you smirk.
“Yeah, that pretty much sums you up, doesn’t it?” You ask with a smile. That was too much for your landlord to handle. His whole body begins to shake; his double chin and man cans start to jiggle in tune. You find his reaction so funny that you start to laugh. You don’t bother holding it back. Unfortunately he cuts you off with a kick in the groin. It looks like his self-control has left him. You let out a sudden screech before grabbing your now pained genitals. The agonizing sensation causes you to bend forward. That’s when your landlord lands a clean left hook along your jaw. His strike was more than enough to make you smack your head against your door frame. From there your landlord pushes you onto your back and continues hitting you. When he feels that he’s done enough, he stands over you before promptly spitting on you.
“Ya got seven days, Jackass.” With that he turns towards his room and walks out of sight. As you grunt and groan from the pain you start to wonder why he had to go for cheap shots. If he didn’t, you could have taken him without issue. You lie there in your doorway for the better part of thirty minutes before you deem yourself alright to move. That had to have been one of the most embarrassing moments of the year for you. Though the time you spent in high school would take the cake when it comes to embarrassment.
You shake your head of the rotten memories. High school wasn’t the most enjoyable time for you, and you didn't want to bother opening old wounds. As you shakily get to your feet your gingerly rub your sore jaw. You had nothing for the swelling, nor did you have anything for the pain in your lower half.That means you’re going to have to go out and go to the pharmacy. You sigh out of exasperation before making your way back to your bedroom. As you try to gather your bearings your field of vision starts to spin. You prop yourself against the wall in order to steady yourself.
That’s when you really start feeling around your face; your jaw wasn’t the only problem you had. Your nose and your left eye were starting to swell and swell. The feeling in your lower half made you want to vomit, but at least nothing was broken. When you manage to find your wallet on a nearby nightstand, and when you place it in your jeans pocket you stumble out of your apartment room. You’re sure to grab your red hooded jacket on the way. Late autumn had a tendency to make the air extra chilly at night and the last thing you needed to do was catch a cold.
Soon enough you stumble down the concrete stairs and out into the grimy, dirty streets. You nearly lost your balance on the splintered stairs on your way down. That building of yours really is a health hazard. The piercing wails of police sirens are there to greet you as a squad car speeds by. That car was probably en route to a robbery or a homicide. Your area of the city isn’t exactly the safest at night. There are plenty of broken street lamps and dark, shady alleyways for perpetrators to hide in. Lucky for you no one has thought to mug you.
You stagger along, not wanting to waste any more time. After all, it’s not as if anything has changed. The various apartment buildings you’re walking by are still foreclosed or condemned, and soon your apartment complex will soon be joining them. Their dilapidated conditions made them unfit to live in. You watch as a board being used to block a window falls from the second floor of a nearby building. You can see a faint glow from within.
You tack it up to a group of hobos or something along those lines; they have a tendency to take to these seemingly abandoned buildings. You grimace when you realize that if you don’t find a new home soon you’ll be just like them. You would just settle for sleeping in your car if you could afford to own one. Public transit was your way of travel. On the plus side you were able to save money that way. No need to buy gas if you don’t have anything to fill it up with.
At least you had a few street lights to illuminate your trash-littered path. But you can’t even take solace in their ever-flickering glow. All they do is reveal just how much this city has neglected this part. You spend your walk to the pharmacy in relative silence. When you step through the threshold into the pharmacy’s interior you breathe a sigh of relief. The warmth that now flows through you helps relax you. Thankfully this pharmacy was one of the more well-off buildings around here. They could afford the heating costs. That’s when you’re reminded as to why you came here in the first place. When you open your mouth to sigh your jaw erupts with pain, causing you to whimper. That catches the attention of the blonde bimbo of a cashier.
“Aisle twelve sir,” says the cashier as she looks over your broken form in disgust. Yeah, you probably look fairly rough right about now. You nod before making your way there. Upon arrival you see the medical items you need to fix your broken features.
After getting the ointments and wraps you need, you pay the cashier and then you unwillingly make your way out of the warm, tranquil pharmacy and back out into the cold and lonely streets. A purchase of this magnitude would have you worried, but because you won’t have to pay rent you don’t mind. Along the way you stop to see some random thug running in your direction. You see he has a hat in his hands. He’s wearing his grey coat with the hood up, and with the black bandanna wrapped around his face you have no idea who this man is.
You see the flash of coins as they fall from the hat. Two hobos are chasing this thug down as he tries to make his escape. You shake your head in disappointment. You continue walking forward seemingly oblivious to the event taking place right before your eyes. But when the thug gets ready to pass by, you extend your leg. The thug was too busy looking over his shoulder to see his downfall at your hands. He trips over your leg and ends up face planting onto the filthy cracked sidewalk. He flips himself onto his back, but before he can react, you bring your foot down on his left kneecap with all your might. You hear a satisfying snap as your foot makes contact. The thug starts screaming in pain while grasping his newly broken leg. You don’t pay the thug a second glance as you walk away from the scene. The two hobos run past you and over to the thug.
“God bless you sir,” one of them hollers as they start to clean up your mess by beating the thief while he’s down. You decide to stay and watch the show. When they feel that justice has been served the two hobos promptly collect their money and go about their business, but not before trying to give you some money for your service.
You weren’t about to refuse this little reward; you needed any bit of money you could get. Security deposits on apartment rooms aren’t exactly cheap. They thank you one last time before departing. It does your heart good to see justice being served without the police being involved. It brings a metaphorical tear to your eye. Speaking of justice, there’s a certain fat Italian you still need to pay a visit to after you take care of yourself.
With the idea of revenge plaguing your thoughts, you make your way back home. As you pass by an alleyway a round of applause stops you in your tracks. You freeze before looking through the black abyss. Admittedly you’re a little nervous; you have no idea what lies beyond that thick blanket of black. You strain your eyes in hopes of seeing just who’s applauding you. That is when you hear a set of footsteps echoing along the brick walls of the alley.
“Bravo child, bravo. You did a real number on that filth,” comes a deep voice from within the darkness. The malevolent chuckle that follows his words is more than enough to send a shiver of fear down your spine. From the alley comes a rather tall, older-looking man. As he draws close, you have to tilt your head in order to meet his gaze. The only feature other than his body type that you could make out was the long grey beard that seemed to protrude from his chin. Everything else was covered in a brown trench coat, gloves, boots, fedora, and sunglasses. As he gets closer to you, his smile widens. That’s when you notice the single tooth protruding from his gums. When he’s a few feet away from you he stops clapping.
“Who the hell are you?” you ask as you look over this strange looking individual. “Listen, buddy I don’t wanna see what’s under your trench coat.” You barely get the end of your statement out before the stranger starts laughing. To him it’s as if what you said is the funniest thing he’s ever heard. Though his joy only causes you to panic and back away. There’s something about him that really upsets you but you can’t put your finger on it. When he calms down he tries to put your worries to rest.
“Oh no child, you have me all wrong. I’m not here for anything like that. I just wanted to say that little spectacle was quite a sight to behold,” As he speaks he examines you from behind his shades. His lips seemed to be forced to give him that near permanent smile.
“How do you know about that? I didn’t see you there.” Just from that alone your suspicion only gets worse. Could this man be a stalker, if so for how long was he watching you?
“Oh please, I’m not some run of the mill stalker. I carry myself in a much higher regard. I’d feel insulted if you weren’t so ignorant.” You can’t tell if he’s scrutinizing you or what, those sunglasses make it hard to tell.It strikes you as odd that anyone would wear such things in the middle of the night. Everything about him from his demeanor to his choice of wear screams user. Maybe this guy was a junkie who just so happened to get a look as he stumbled along; still though his comment manages to rile you.
“Okay why do you say that?” you ask curiously before adding, “Because I’d like to know how long you’ve been following me, and why do you call me ignorant?”
“Because child, I love it when I see things like that. I’ve spent many nights here viewing bits and pieces of your little society, and I must say I love what I see.” His apparent joy disgusts you.
“You’re pretty messed up.” With that you promptly turn away from him and walk off in the direction of your apartment. The sound of footsteps traveling behind you causes you to stop and sigh. “Listen buddy, I don’t need any prowlers following me home so if you’d kindly fuck off that’d be nice.” You hope your annoyed tone turns him away, but you turn around to find that it had no effect. He’s still giving you that same goofy smile, except this time he’s got popcorn in his gloved hands. You were going to ask how he got the popcorn, but he probably had it the whole time; perhaps you’re just delusional from the blows to the head you took an hour ago?
“No child, I will not ‘kindly fuck off’ as you so elegantly put it.” He swallows his popcorn before adding, “You’re the most interesting thing I found all night, I cannot let you out of my sight. Who knows what else you might do!” His excitement is only managing to scare you, but you’re going to do your best to not show it. You sigh again before promptly turning around and walking again. The guy’s going to be disappointed. You didn’t plan on any more exciting ventures for tonight. You just wanted to get home and fix your face.
You don’t try to deter the man following you. If you tried to run he’d probably catch up. If you tried to fight him he probably had a gun somewhere in that coat of his. That’s when your worries get worse. Some random guy is following you around waiting for you to do something, and you have no idea if he’s just going to put a bullet in you when he gets bored.
“Oh, don’t worry. I’m only here to watch you work your magic. I mean no harm and I don’t plan on involving myself in any way. Where would the fun be if I did?” It seems as though this man is a mind reader. His words do nothing to help put you at ease. Yet you just shrug your shoulders without turning around to face him. Besides, you really have no choice but to let him follow you. It’s not like you have a phone to call the police. When you do nothing to appease the man behind you he voices his displeasure.
“Oh come on, you could have done something to those hobos back there at least. Or those cats. They were just begging to have something done to them.” This guy sounds like a child whining for not getting his way. Finally you’ve made it back to your apartment complex.
“You’ll see that I’m just full of disappointments,” Your jaw rebels against you at that point. You can only ignore your injuries for so long before it becomes unbearable.
“I’m sure your parents are well aware of that little tidbit,” says the stranger, barely above a whisper.
“What was that?” You turn your head to face him. You notice that he’s no longer carrying a bag of popcorn.
“Oh, nothing you need to concern yourself with child,” you shrug. If he’s got something important to say, you’re sure he’ll let you know. Lucky for Freddy he doesn’t greet you out in the hall to gloat about kicking your ass. That would have been a great way to start your recovery period. You climb your rickety stairs, head down your floor’s hallway, and open the door to your apartment. This stranger follows you right inside and he makes himself right at home. He practically leaps on to your ratty old couch. He bounces once before reclining.
“Not bad,” says the stranger as he puts his hands behind his head. You shake your head in annoyance.
“Just don’t touch anything,” you leave the stranger to his own devices while you go in your bathroom. As soon as you shut your door your uninvited guest gets down to business. In fact he leaps right off of your couch, with a checklist and pen that materialized in his hands. He starts looking around at your things checking items off as he goes along.
“Lopsided tables, check. Broken mirror, check. Broken bed, check. Furniture in random spots of the apartment, check. No consistency at all.” He makes his way into your bedroom. “Let’s see, mahogany dresser with an oak nightstand. Hmm, this is elementary level at best, but I can work with it,” he grins before tossing his checklist and pen away. They flare out in a silent explosion before fading in a few wisps of smoke. Meanwhile you’re busy using your newly obtained first aid items; you curse as you pour rubbing alcohol on the cuts you’ve managed to get.
“God that stings like hell,” you say to yourself. You go through a small checklist of your own, disinfecting and dressing your sores as you do so. When you finally think you’ve done an okay job with yourself you step out of the bathroom to find your guest in your living room holding a pair of heart patterned boxers.
“You enjoying yourself over there?” Malice is clear in your voice as you stare daggers at your guest’s back. He picks up on your tone and hurriedly sets your photo back down on your shelf.
“Dreadfully sorry, curiosity and all that.” He laughs sheepishly before adding, “I must say, I love what you’ve done with the place. However, I would make a few changes,” he strokes his beard as he speaks. Suddenly he walks over to one of your walls. “Yes, this wall should have a red and green checkered pattern, while that wall over there needs brown splatters all over it.” His gaze turns to your light fixtures, “oh and only half of the lights should stay the way they are, the other half should have red, pink, and orange covers.” You chuckle at his random suggestions. This causes him to finally drop his smile. “You’re just jealous because you have no taste for the finer things.” He shoots you a cocky grin.
“No, I just think you need to lay off the LSD,” you retort. He ignores your comment before asking you another series of odd questions.
“Child, I must ask, where are your rubber tables, where is the singing plastic bass, and what about the fluffy blue bean bag chairs?” He must think you’re some college frat boy with those inquiries. As he asks you this he walks over to you and shakes your shoulders as if he’s trying to help you come to your senses, as if your home is something out of the ordinary for him.
“Listen buddy, do you need me to call a doctor for you or something? I’m sure my landlord has a phone.” You’re feeling a little nervous. The grip is like a vice, you couldn’t escape if you tried. The stranger gasps as if you’ve just insulted him.
“How dare you! I am in a clear state of mind thank you very much!” and with that he harrumphs before turning his back to you, crossing his arms as he does so. This guy has got to be the weirdest person you’ve ever met; when it comes to crazy this he takes the cake. You’ve decided that you’re going to get Freddy to call someone about this. Then you’re going to beat him black and blue.
“Listen, I’m gonna go get my landlord, and then we’re gonna get you some help okay buddy?” You slowly make your way towards your door without breaking eye contact. Once you make the mistake of mentioning seeing Freddy that smile of his returns.
“Oh I must come along for this. It should be quite the show.” As he follows you to your door you’re sure to give him an obvious warning.
“Yeah have fun, but you do realize I’m gonna have the cops haul you away or I’m gonna have EMT put you in a strait jacket right?” Maybe this desperately placed bit of information will be more than enough to get this guy to leave.
“I’m sure you will, after this little performance of course.” Looks like you’ve failed.
“You’re implying something big is going to happen.” As you get closer to Freddy’s door you can hear that he’s playing some loud Italian music. You knock loudly in hopes that he’ll hear you over his terrible tunes. Thankfully he hears you, and the music come to a sudden stop.
“Who the fuck is that?” Freddy calls from within.
“It’s Anonymous, open up,” you say not bothering to stop your knocking. You hear Freddy laughing haughtily as he walks to his door. When he opens it you find that he’s left the door on its chain. You wonder if he’s scared of you, he knows you’d beat him down if given the chance.
“Heh, you back for round two dumb ass?” His cocky grin causes you to shake your head and sigh. You’re really not in the mood for this right now.
“I need to use your phone, some random guy keeps bugging me and he won’t go away. I’m gonna call the cops,” you point to your unwelcome guest for emphasis. Freddy examines him from the safety of his partially open door. He raises a brow at the sheer size of the man. From his position it looks like you come up to the stranger’s neck.
“Hi,” says the stranger cheerfully.
“Fuck off,” your landlord says in response, and with that your landlord tries to shut his door. You put your foot in the door before he can shut it.
“I’ll ask again, may I use your phone?” Your tone implies that you’re not asking anymore. From being told you’re going to be homeless, to getting your ass kicked, then having to meet this random guy in the streets you really aren’t having a good night. You will break down Freddy’s door if he doesn’t let you in and he knows it.
“Anonymous I’ll say it again, fuck off. If you don’t leave I’m gonna call the cops on YOUR sorry ass.” You can feel your anger coming to a boil. You let an outburst slip out.
“That’s fine, I’ll tell them you assaulted me you obese fucking mule!” Freddy doesn’t lose his cool.
“Who’re they gonna believe, the guy that owns a building or some soon to be homeless fuck?” It seems like he’s forgotten one important thing.
“Hey retard you’re gonna be homeless too.” Freddy tries to squeeze your foot with his door, but he fails.
“Yeah but unlike you I’ve got a place to move to. I got this notice a month in advance; I had plenty of time.” When he laughs your body starts to shake.
“You knew for a fucking month and you didn’t tell me?!” You pull your foot out of the doorway and your landlord promptly slams the door shut, but it’s not over. That’s when you ram your shoulder into his door. When you get your hands on him he’s done. You keep ramming your shoulder into the door, then you kick it, you alternate between the two for a few minutes, shouting obscenities as you do so. You don’t notice the ever widening grin of your guest. All the while Freddy starts playing his music again; he turns up the volume in order to drown you out. That just adds fuel to the fire for you and you keep going. But after another minute you realize you’ve done little damage to his door. That’s when the stranger steps in.
“Child, please save your energy,” with that he gives you a smile. You back away from the door, looking to him in confusion. “Besides,” says the stranger as he puts his hand on the knob, he twists it and the door opens for him as if it were never locked. “Why are you trying to break down an unlocked door?” he asks. You look from him, to the door, then back to him again. There are warning signs buzzing within your mind telling you to get away from this guy, but he’s just given you an opportunity to unleash your anger. You’ll just chalk it up to your landlord causing you distress. You’d rather not think this stranger you’re with is capable of magic or something. That’d just be crazy. You kick open the door all the way to see your landlord looking at you like a deer caught in the headlights. You smile.
“So buddy, pal, can I use your phone?” you ask before growling. He gets off of his couch before going into his room; he doesn’t say a single word until he walks back in.
“I don’t know how the fuck you got in here but you’ve got until the count of five before I make you leave.” You don’t feel threatened by him, just the opposite in fact.
“Oh, I’m so scared,” sarcasm is thick in your voice as you step into his apartment. You spot a corded phone on the counter, you waste no time in walking over and picking it up. You dial 911 and wait. After you report the stranger to the police you’re going to beat Freddy within an inch of his life. At least you were before you watched Freddy duck down in front of his couch. When he stands again you see that he’s got a twelve gauge in his grip. He aims it at you and you feel you’ll void your bowels out of fear. You gulp before setting the phone down and putting your hands above your head.
“You have until I count to five, Anonymous. One,” Freddy cocks his shotgun before continuing, “two.” He sets his sights on you. What do you do? Do you make a run for it or do you try to get to him before he pulls the trigger? What if he shoots you in the back when you make a break for it? “Three,” says your landlord, but before he can count any further the stranger is suddenly next to Freddy. He yelps in surprise when the stranger pulls the shotgun out of his grip. Freddy didn’t even have time to struggle. His shock prevented him from reacting. You were right to peg this guy as a strange one, ripping a shotgun out of someone’s hands without it discharging is quite a feat.
“Tsk tsk tsk, you disappoint me. Anonymous, if you would please?” asks the stranger as he looks to you with a smile. Maybe this guy isn’t so bad after all; you smile before cracking your knuckles. Now it’s your Freddy’s turn to feel fear, he just pulled a shotgun on you, you’ve got to one up him somehow. It only takes a minute for you to overpower your landlord, he’s already on the ground and you’re pounding his face in. He thought he could get in a cheap shot on your blind side, but you proved him wrong and he paid for it. Though you don’t seem to notice the amount of damage you’re doing to the guy.
Using the untapped rage you’ve got building inside of you, you keep going. You keep hitting Freddy until his face is unrecognizable. The fact that he’s no longer moving doesn’t deter you from jamming his knuckles into any part of skin you see.All the while your new friend just stands there munching on some popcorn, his sinister smile ever present. You don’t stop; you keep going and going. For five minutes you pound your fists into his pudgy face. Until you end it with one strong punch to the nose.
When you finally get back to your feet you’re panting like a dog. Your adrenaline played a huge role, at this moment you can barely feel the pain Freddy caused you. As you look him over you see he’s still breathing but barely. It’d be a lie if you didn’t feel a deep sense of satisfaction for what you’ve done. You give your landlord one last kick to the ribcage before turning to face your friend. Like he did when he first met you, he applauds you.
“Bravo Anonymous, such rage, such fury, the little ball of fat didn’t stand a chance!” his voice is filled to the brim with joy over what you’ve just done. He continues to pour on what you think are compliments. “You were like an untrained animal! That was quite the chaotic show, there’s hope for you yet!” That came as a bit of a surprise, but before you could say anything Freddy interrupts you by groaning. Other than that bit of noise he shows no signs of stirring.
"And just what is that supposed to mean?" you ask as you back away from this stranger. When he sets the shotgun on the couch he walks towards you causing you to back up further. That is, until you hit a wall The stranger closes the distance and puts his hands on your shoulders. When he looks into your eyes his sunglasses do nothing to hold back the burning zeal that lies behind their lenses.
"Think about it for a moment Anonymous, one minute you're complaining about not having a single thing to do, next you're getting your ass stomped by this fatty.” He points to Freddy. How did he know that he was the one who hurt you “Then on your way back from walking to a pharmacy you randomly break a man's leg, and now look at you. You've just broken into your landlord's apartment and beat him!" His smile widens as he continues his little rant. "You're supposed to be this calm, docile, individual but let's face it, that's not you at all. You can't stand this life of mediocrity, you never could. It's been eating away at you so you lash out at others.” You struggle in his iron grip, you can’t break free. “Then you use petty excuses just to have a reason to do so. Whether it's out of revenge, or if it’s because they're thieves, you're really doing this simply because you're bored with your life, am I right?" While the stranger rants his grip on your shoulders strengthens causing you to yelp. You can see the fear and confusion your eyes show from the reflection of this guy's shades.
"How, how do you know all of this?" Your voice comes out shaking from the utter confusion and fear this man is giving you.
"Because, my dear Anonymous, when I find something of interest I learn everything there is to know about it. I know all about you child.” He removes a hand and points at his temple. “About your prim and proper suburban life, how your parents spoiled your little sister, and that you had to learn to fend for yourself in high school,” you stand there petrified by his words. “There is nothing about you I don't already know, and I must say I love this downward spiral your life is heading in, there is so much potential for you to do more." This guy's talking crazy. Relief washes over you when he finally releases you from his grip.
You look from him, then to the door. You make a mad dash for it and you make it back out into the hallway. As you make your way to your door you turn around to find that the stranger isn't pursuing you. You leap into your apartment before promptly slamming and locking the door. You decide that you'll wait here until that guy leaves. Then you'll call the police to report a suspicious looking person in the area, maybe you’ll get to finish the call this time.
An ominous uproar of laughter causes your blood to run cold and your hair to stand on end; you cast your gaze to your couch to find the mysterious stranger sitting there, popcorn in hand. You yelp in fear before desperately trying to unlock your door, when you manage to do so you open it to find him standing right in your path. You gasp before trying to slam the door in his face. A gloved hand from behind grabs hold of the door, stopping you. You turn around to find that there are in fact two of them. You stand there, speechless as the one from outside makes his way into your apartment. You back away from the two. They stand side by side, both of them wearing the same smarmy grin.
"Are you okay Anonymous? You look like you're looking at a monster or something," says the stranger on the left. The one on the right drapes his arm over the one on the left.
"I agree, Anonymous please stop staring. It's quite rude," says the stranger on the right before bursting out into fits of laughter. You cannot process this guy's request, your mind is too busy trying to comprehend the site it's been forced to behold.
Then things take a turn for the worse, you hear the sickening sound of bones breaking as the two strangers seem to meld into one being, their smiles never leaving their faces. To you it was like watching two piles of liquid flesh compounding into one being. You fight the urge to vomit. Light headedness from this turn of events starts to creep up on you. Your mind can only handle so much. You scream, you scream and you back away, even though your back is against the wall you still keep trying to move away in vain. When that little transformation is done the stranger is back down to one. You're struggling to keep yourself from vomiting; the ramen isn't sitting too well in your stomach. You can feel it start to make its way up, but you force it down.
"What... what are you?" You ask as you keep your eyes trained on this guy. Who knows what he's going to do next. If he can split himself up, and if he's able to appear wherever he wants, then you're at his mercy. The stranger walks over to you and kneels down so he's at your level, then he removes his sunglasses to reveal a disgusting set of red and yellow irises. You can see why this guy wore those sunglasses. The way one pupil seems to shrink while the other grows isn't exactly the most attractive thing to see. You grimace but he doesn't seem to care
.
"I'm your way out of this life of mediocrity Anonymous; all you have to do is accept my offer." His gaze turns serious despite the wacky, almost cartoonish nature they seemed to have.
"What if I refuse?” He chuckles before taking off a glove to reveal eagle talons where his fingers would be.
"My dear Anonymous, my offer is non-negotiable." Before you can react, his index finger from his exposed hand touches your forehead and your vision starts to blur. You suddenly feel incredibly tired, as if you haven't slept in days. You try to move, you try to speak, but your muscles have relaxed and your speech has been slurred. His voice is the only thing you can seemingly focus on now, it echoes throughout your skull as he speaks. "We'll discuss my offer in detail when we arrive. For now, sleep. OH and just where are my manners? I never properly introduced myself, did I?" you, manage to weakly shake your head as you slump to the floor. You hear the sound of his palm meeting his forehead. "Ah I always get distracted when I'm excited. You have to forgive me. I go by many names, but Discord shall suffice," and with that consciousness finally leaves you…
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My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
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Quick Announcement to those reading: I did have a proof reader, but when he saw the amount of mistakes I have he gave up. So, if there's anyone out there willing to point out mistakes and inform me in a PM please let me know.
"Anonymous Unknown", must resist urge to kill author...
First off; fuck yes, my multi-pieced waifu, Eris. Second, maybe it's just me, but I think some breaks between the paragraphs would help. Especially with a chapter as large as this. Again, probably just me and and my non-helpful opinion, but there you go. Now, I greatly look forward to reading this. FIM needs more best pony stories. Best pony being Eris, of course.
Very intriguing story, nicely written. Looking forward to the next chapter!
Great story, and very well written, and I really looking forward to reading this
Living the good life with Discord around? More like Living "la vida loca!"
Well that was an interesting way to begin a story. I will be watching this. Hope he stays human though.
1860741
I should probably get to work on that, it would make it easier to read.
1861119
Great to know that people are finding enjoyment out of this.
1861140
Oh yes there will be more, trust me.
1861161
You're gonna get to see just how crazy things can get.
1861483
spoiler he does stay human /spoiler
1861638
Well alright then. Thank you for telling me.
I feel like this is easier to read in prose instead of greentext. Suppose I shall now follow this.
Feeling the LOVE
ETHAR PLS GO U IZ BAD PONE WRITA
15chaos30me
Nah, you coo fgt.
Well that was good keep it up.
All of my yes. The writer that got me into writing MLP stories has finally joined us.
Looking forward to this story... and how the readers on FiMFic are going to react to it.
My personal theory is that the stranger just injected me with a cocktail of hallucinogens while I was beating up my landlord. Now everything is just one REALLY bad trip after this.
This fanfiction. I like this shit.
Glad to see you've converted it from >greentext.
I'm willing to be a proof-reader, if you still need one.
Also let me know if you need art for LtGL, we never did get to make any art for it while it was being posted in the threads.
i think ill fit in nicely here
I found the first chapter a bit tedious, but maybe is because I have read so many stories about stuff like this.
for some reason i couldn't help but think of this scene when he took off the sun glasses.
This looks very intresting, but it could use with a revisit here and there.
Awk, this looks pretty good so far.
Wow what an awesome way to start this off
but why did the landlord have to have a mustache and be Italian? 
Dark as fuck.
I've been looking for a fic like this for forever and now that I've found it ..... It's beautiful
Yes!!!........ Buff said.
*GASP* DO I GET TO BE DISCORDS LITTLE CRAZY ASSASSIN/ MURDERER THINGY!?!?!
YES!
If your gonna make his name anonymous, You may as well just call him John smith from how for how generic it is
That’s why I’m here, Mr. Anonymous. I have recommended your services to my employers, and they have authorized me to offer you a job. They agree with me that you have limitless potential.
You’ve proved yourself a decisive man, so I don’t expect you’ll have any trouble deciding what to do. If you’re interested, just step into the portal and I will take that as a yes.]/i]
9118913
Discord is G-man's employer