Entry 1: Arrival
12/17/16
I’ve never kept a journal before, but in case someone else ends up here, in case this entire world wasn’t created just to deceive me, I want need to leave behind my own account, so that you, my dear reader, knows what happened to me, in my own words. I don’t want these creatures to taint your opinion of me with lies, designed to make me look like some kind of monster. Of course, this is all assuming that they even let you see this journal, or don’t alter it in some way. But if I live in constant fear of them, and believe them omnipotent, or let myself despair and think that everything I do is pointless, then they’ve won. I won’t let them win.
And since you’re reading this – I’m sorry. I’m sorry you’ve been trapped here like me. But maybe, just maybe, reading my story will help you avoid the mistakes that got me killed – after all, if you’re reading this instead of talking to me, I’m not alive to help you. Or maybe they’ve got me locked away somewhere, trying to torture me into recanting. They’re welcome to do their worst.
But I digress. If you found this on your own, instead of being directed to it by those creatures, you don’t even know who I am yet. My name’s Daniel Murphy. No, not the baseball player. I’m a soldier, a staff sergeant in the United States Army, First Infantry Division. As of this past August fourteenth, I’m thirty-four years old. I joined in ’01, fought in Iraq in ’04. Yeah. Fallujah. So you can imagine how I felt when those ISIS fucks took it over. Sure, they’re out now, but it was still a slap in the face. Not that there’s much difference between the terrorist hajjis and the government ones. Both a bunch of child-raping, civvy-murdering, America-hating SOBs. That’s what you get when you leave an invasion half done. Instead of one big shit laying on the ground, you’ve split it up into a bunch of smaller shits that are a lot harder to notice in time to avoid, and the dried-up outer shell’s been broken open, so each of the little shits is wetter and smells even worse than the first one.
Sorry. Ranting.
I was born in Alvarado, a small city in Texas, south of Dallas. My parents weren’t happy about me joining the military, but I’m sure Gramps was looking down from heaven with pride. The folks wanted me to get a desk job, go work in one of the offices in Dallas, and stay close to home, like my brother. But that’s not for me. I’ve always had that burning in my soul. Have you felt it? The desire, the need to go out and make a real difference, to fight for something that actually matters? Of course, you can’t tell me the answer, but I’d bet good money that you have. This place is like a custom hell for people like us, which is why I suspect it is. Maybe this is really an alien world, or an alternate dimension or some such shit, or hell, maybe I’m just hallucinating all this, but it seems too perfectly designed to break me to be the first two, and I don’t think you can pass out in a hallucination. Well, maybe you can. I’m no neurologist. But I don’t think I’m crazy enough to come up with this place on my own.
Sidetracked again. Sorry. This “writing your thoughts” thing is a lot harder than you probably think.
So my parents and I aren’t on great terms, but I still do my best to use my leave to visit them at Christmas. Seeing combat makes you understand real damn fast that life’s too short to spend it feuding with your own family. I even have (or had, I suppose) a small house in Alvarado, though that’s more because I’m a proud Texan who wants an address in the best state in the country than as a way to connect with them. It’s not exactly fancy, and it needs a good dusting whenever I come back, but it’s something to call my own. Plus, I need a place to store my guns. Got a couple of them – a Colt Single Action Army revolver and a Winchester Model 92 lever-action rifle. Both are antiques, chambered for .44-40. Had to save up for years to get them – cost me quite a few grand – but it’s definitely proven worth the cost. After all, the U.S. dollar probably isn’t valued at one shit per pound of Franklins here, but bullets and black powder have a worth that surpasses exchange rates.
Anyways, you’re probably thinking, “Gee, that’s great, Dan, but I don’t really care about your life story. How the hell did you get here?” Well… I don’t have a single clue. Not yet, anyways. I’ll tell you what happened leading up to my arrival in this hellhole of liberal bullshit, though, doing my best to recount everything accurately, even if it reflects poorly on me. I’m no more perfect than you are, and you can’t learn from my mistakes if I refuse to admit them.
Two nights ago, I went shooting in a field owned by a buddy of mine. We went to school together, joined up together, and planned our leaves so they overlapped. He has a bigger house than me, is married, and has a ten-year-old daughter. By most people’s standards, he had a better life than solitary little me. I’m sure he’s happier than I was, but that didn’t bother me. I had my guns, my privacy, and my faith, and that’s all I really needed. Besides, a family and big property means he doesn’t have the money to spend on guns that I did. The only weapon he personally owns is a Beretta 92FS. Anyways, I fired off a few rounds with him, then drove home. Only took about ten minutes by car, and normally, I’d walk. I like taking in the night air, but we were having a cold snap, enough that I didn’t want to be outside too long. That also meant that I didn’t get to fire as many rounds as I would’ve liked. That disappointed me at the time, but now, it means I still have sixty rounds in my ammo pouch. Hopefully, that will be enough if I manage to get my weapons back. I don’t think I’ll be able to find a press, dies, or primer here.
I unlocked the front door and walked inside my home, my SAA in its holster and my rifle on my shoulder. When I flicked on the lights, I heard a bang from my bedroom. I rushed in, lowering my rifle to a ready position. But the guy in there already had his pistol out, and in tight spaces, it’s quicker to aim and fire a semi-auto handgun than a lever-action rifle. There was a flash of light, then nothing.
I woke up to heat. The air wasn’t that hot, but the sand soaked it right up. On the right side of my face, I was cooked from the sands, and on the left, from sunburn. Oh, and I was slightly frostbitten, too. Fuck the desert. Most people don’t realize this, but it gets pretty cold there on winter nights. With a groan, I pushed myself up from the ground and tried to figure out how I got there. It took a few moments for the events of the night before to come back to me, and when I did remember, it still didn’t make any sense. My first conclusion was that my attempted murderer had dumped my body out in the desert somewhere, but a quick self-examination proved that not only did I not have a bullet hole in my chest, but I still had everything that was on me at the time. My SAA was still in its holster, my rifle was laying in front of me, and my phone, wallet, and pocket Bible were still in my vest.
Oh, yeah. Forgot to mention that. I’m dressed as a cowboy – boots, jeans, white shirt, tan vest, red bandanna, and near-white Stetson. As my choice of firearms may have alerted you, I’ve got a bit of an unhealthy obsession with my state’s history. Still, it’s the finest state there is, so there’s no reason for me not to be proud of it. I’ve also got reproductions of the battle flag of the Army of Northern Virginia, the Bonnie Blue Flag, a Confederate cavalry colonel uniform, and a Model 1840 Cavalry Saber at home. Wish I had that last one here. I don’t like my chances in close combat with one of these creatures with just my twelve-inch Bowie knife.
So I was in the middle of Fuck, Nowhere, U.S.A. (or so I thought). My first act was to check my phone. Said it was 10:42, which matched my watch and seemed about right based on where the sun was. I wasn’t surprised to discover I had no cell service, but I was surprised – and terrified – to find that I couldn’t get a GPS signal. I started to panic. I was in the desert, with no food, one canteen-full of water, no idea where the closest town was, and no way to contact anyone for rescue. However I had ended up here, I was dead as surely as if I had been shot. But it’s not in my nature to give up. Above everything else, I’m a fighter. With my foot, I scrawled what I hoped spelled “HELP” in the sand in letters big enough to see from a low-flying airplane. I couldn’t just stay there and hope someone found me, though. I had to try to find civilization. Looking around, I saw a mountain range in the distance. Based on the position of the sun, they were to the south, which meant that I was in the Chihuahuan desert and the mountains were the Sierra Madre Oriental. That decided which direction I would be walking. I didn’t want to wander into Mexico, so I drew an arrow in the sand and headed off due north.
The walk was fairly uneventful. The sun beat me down and I had to avoid rattlesnakes and scorpions, but that’s what you generally expect in the Texas wilderness. This part of the desert was pretty desolate, mostly sand and rock, not the brush that makes up a lot of the Chihuahuan. One really weird thing happened, though. About an hour into my trek, a huge bird flew overhead. I couldn’t tell exactly how big it was, but it must have been on the large side, even for an eagle. It was bright red and yellow, too. I mean, really bright. I know now that I wasn’t in the Cihuahuan, but at the time, that really confused me. I don’t think there are any birds that size on Earth that are such vibrant colors. Plus, it had this absurdly long, split tail. Back on Earth, I think only some tropical birds look like that. It flew off after maybe half an hour of circling, which relieved me to no end. I had been afraid that it might swoop down and attack me. No clue what something that size eats in such a barren place.
I ended up walking about nine hours before I saw a town, with only two short breaks to piss. Thank God it’s winter. In the summer, I probably would’ve died of heat stroke long before then. As it was, despite my careful rationing, I ran out of water three hours before then, and when I first saw the town, I thought I had been sunstruck and was hallucinating. It was an honest-to-God Old West village. I know a bunch of cities in America have tried to keep their heritage alive and preserve as many of the original buildings as possible, but they usually have paved roads and modern homes. Not this place. It looked like it had been ripped straight out of a Western movie. Dirt roads, a Main Street with buildings that all had false fronts, and small cottages. One thing was missing, though – this town had no church. As I wandered in, I noticed that the architecture had a strange emphasis on apples and, to a lesser extent, hearts. The apples confound me. There were a ton of trees around, but there’s no way they’re apple trees, not in the middle of a desert. The hearts make a bit more sense. Apparently, I had managed to stumble on a brothel town. Maybe the apples are a sign of fertility or some shit like that. I haven’t asked my “host” about that yet. Not sure I want the answer, though maybe the hearts are just emblematic of the hippie bullshit that seems to be all over this place. No idea what the apples would represent in that case, though.
Another weird thing about this town – it was deserted. It wasn’t a ghost town – the paint on the buildings looked fresh, and none of them were boarded up. It just seemed like all the residents had up and fled ten minutes ago. Cautiously, my rifle in my hands, I walked up to what I reckoned was the town hall, seeing as it had the clock on it. The door was locked. Now I was getting scared that maybe this was some sort of weird reenactment town that got used only a month every year. One building, that I assumed was a restaurant of some sort based on the salt shaker on the sign, had those saloon-type doors, so I went in there. It was empty. “Where the fuck is everyone?!” I shouted impotently.
“They’re all hidin’. You done scared ’em,” came a voice from behind me.
I was so relieved to hear another voice that it didn’t register with me that it came from too low for a grown human, though I did notice that it was male and had a very fake Texan accent. You know, the ones that Yankees put on when they want to mock us, or when they pretend to be us for movies and such. “What d’ya mean, ‘I scared ’em’?” I asked, turning around. “How the fuck am I…” Then I saw what I was talking to. I trailed off, blinked a few times, and passed out.
I was finally awakened by someone trying to grab my revolver. Reflexively, I swung at where the person would be, but hit nothing. The tug stopped, though. I jumped up from the too-short bed I was on, whipping out the SAA and thumbing the hammer. When I saw who was standing in front of me, I damn near fainted again. It was a fucking light purple unicorn with wings. The top of its head, not counting the horn, was about chest height, its muzzle was way too short for a horse, and it had darker purple, almond-shaped eyes the size of dinner plates. Of course, you already know this, being trapped here like me as you are. We stared at each other for a while. I don’t know what was going through its he/\/
(She just hit me. Told me to use “her” instead of “its.” Well, I didn’t know that at the time, now, did I, Your Worshipfulness?) /\ (She hit me again. Told me not to call her that. Bitch apparently doesn’t know about Han Solo and Prin/ Goddammit! No, I’m not going to stop swearing. Yes, I am recording this conversation. Now go away and let me write in peace. Okay, she’s gone now. Sorry about that, dear reader.)
I don’t know what was going through her head, but I was trying to decide whether to shoot her under the suspicion that she was a demon, or hold my fire in case I was hallucinating. In the silence, light streaming in through the windows told me that it was the next day and revealed that the room we were in had extremely gaudy interior, like the room of a four-year-old girl. Later I found out that the outside’s even worse. God, this place sickens me. Movement, the clattering of tracks, and a chuffing sound let me know that we were on a steam train.
After a few long seconds, she said, sounding hesitant, “Umm… Hi?”
“Where’s my rifle?”
“What?”
“WHERE’S MY FUCKING RIFLE?!”
“Gah! I don’t… What’s a… Oh! You mean that stick you had with you? You want it back?”
“What the fuck do you think?”
“Err… I’ll… go get it.” She ran – galloped? – out of the train car. I kept my SAA trained on the door. I was starting to hyperventilate. I’d had some nasty dreams, and even some waking flashbacks, after Fallujah, but nothing like this. Was this real? Had I finally totally lost it? Maybe when that burglar shot me, I went into a coma, and this was all just a horrid dream. I don’t know, and maybe never will, but I hope to God it’s that last one, and someday, I’ll wake up.
After a few minutes, she came back, her horn glowing pink. My rifle was floating in the air front of her and was wrapped in the same light as her horn. I wasn’t about to touch it while it was like that. After a few moments of her holding it out towards me, she asked, “Uh, aren’t you going to take it? This is what you wanted, right?”
“Put it down first.” I’m not stupid. I had figured out immediately that she was levitating it somehow, which just adds to my suspicion that these are demons.
“Okaaayyy…” She lowered it gently to the floor in front of me, and the glows disappeared. Still keeping my SAA aimed at her, I crouched down and picked it up with my left hand, then straightened. “So, what is it?” she asked.
“A rifle,” I replied flatly.
“Yeah, but… I don’t know what that is.”
I decided that, so far, there wouldn’t be any harm in playing along. “You point it at things, you pull the trigger, and holes appear in the thing you pointed it at,” I said, giving her the very simplified version.
She looked a bit uncomfortable with that. “That sounds like a weapon,” she said, sounding nervous.
“Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner! Why don’t you tell our viewers at home your name?”
“What? Umm… I’m Twilight Sparkle. And… why did you want a weapon so badly? You’re not planning to hurt anypony, are you?”
“Twilight Sparkle. Right. Well, why the fuck not. And… no, I guess not,” I said, pushing my SAA’s hammer back into the safe position and holstering it. “Not unless you attack me. If you are a demon, shooting you probably won’t do anything, and if you aren’t, I don’t want to have to explain to God why I killed an innocent.”
“I don’t look anything like a demon!” she exclaimed, seeming insulted. Then her expression turned inquisitive. “And who’s ‘God’? Ponies used to have religion, but we gave that up a long time ago. And you used ‘god’ like a proper noun, like it’s a name. And how did a human end up in the desert, instead of in my castle? For that matter, why didn’t you turn into a pony? And why’s your head so small?”
“… The fuck?”
“You… don’t know what’s going on any more than I do, do you?”
“Where the fuck am I, what the fuck are you, and how in God’s name do I get home?”
“I’m guessing that was swearing? Look, I know this must be a stressful situation for you, but it’s really not worth –”
“Fucking answer me!”
“Gah! Stop that! You’re in Equestria, I’m a pony, and we’re heading to Ponyville. You can get back to the human world from there.”
“Equestria. Pony. Ponyville. Sure, let’s just pile on the madness. Not like I can lose any more of my sanity. When do we get to this… ‘Ponyville’?”
“Only two more hours. You slept through most of the trip. Oh! You haven’t told me your name yet!”
I hesitated for a moment at the thought of giving my name to a supernatural entity, but I don’t believe that stuff about knowing a being’s name giving you power over them, and I wasn’t about to let her trick me into lying. After all, if these are demons, they’d be quite happy about that. “Daniel Murphy,” I replied.
She blinked, and cocked her head. “Oh. That’s an… interesting name.”
“What’s so strange about it?” I snapped, crossing my arms.
“Well… I thought names were supposed to mean something.”
“It does. My first name means, ‘the Lord is my judge.’ My last name means, ironically for an Army man, ‘sea-battler.’”
Twilight Sparkle’s eyes brightened. “Oh! You’re in the army? Okay, so now I get why you have weapons. But what’s all this stuff about ‘God’ and ‘the Lord’? Religion never came up when I was in the human world; I just assumed that they had grown past that sort of superstition, like we had.”
“When you were in the human world?” I echoed.
“Well, yeah. It’s… a long story.”
“We’ve got plenty of time,” I reminded her.
“Well… okay. So, before I became Princess Celestia’s trusted student, Sta–”
“I’m sorry. Who?”
“Oh! Princess Celestia! She’s the ruler of Equestria. She’s led us with kindness for over a thousand years, and is responsible for the raising and lowering of the Sun. Unfortunately, I don’t think you’ll get a chance to meet her. She’s in Canterlot, and I’m guessing you’ll want to go home as soon as we get to Ponyville.”
This place was already so insane, I didn’t even question the timespan, or the idea that this “Princess Celestia” could move the Sun, or that they were ruled by a princess. There was, however, something else I wanted to ask. “Raises and lowers the Sun, eh? Then you might say, she’s something of a… ‘light-bringer’?”
“Umm… Sure? I guess?”
“Fascinating. Please, continue.”
“Okay…” She still seemed confused by my question, but she went back to her story. “Celestia’s student before me was a unicorn named Sunset Shimmer. But she thought Celestia was holding her back. She refused to see the value of friendship, and instead only cared about getting more power. Eventually, she demanded that Celestia make her a princess, and when Celestia refused, she escaped through the Crystal Mirror to the human world. Years later, she returned, stole the Element of Magic, and fled back through the Mirror again. I had to travel through the Mirror to get it back. With the help of the human versions of my friends, I showed her that friendship is the strongest magic of all. She gave up her quest for power, and now she spends her time helping others and researching how magic works differently in the human world than in Equestria.”
I tried to wrap my head around that, but quickly gave up. “In English, please?”
“What’s ‘English’?”
“The language we’re speaking right now.”
“Nooo… we’re speaking Equestrian.”
“I only know one language, and that’s English. So clearly, that’s what we’re talking in.”
She tapped a hoof to her chin, which must have been horrible for her balance. “Well… I guess there are three possibilities: English and Equestrian are the same, or at least, very similar; you automatically started speaking and thinking in Equestrian as soon as you got here; or there’s some sort of magical translation going on, where each of us just thinks the other is speaking our own language.”
“You said you’ve been to my world before. How the fuck don’t you know this?”
“I don’t know! I just thought humans spoke Equestrian! All other species do!”
“Other species?” At this point, I didn’t really have any surprise left in me, and I spoke with a monotone and glazed eyes.
“Well, yeah. There’s buffalo, Diamond Dogs, cows, griffons, minotaurs, changelings, yaks, sheep, goats, seaponies, Breezies, zebras, dragons, centaurs, gargoyles, donkeys, sea serpents, and more! It’s so weird that you humans are the only intelligent species in your world.”
I sat heavily on the bed and rested my head on my right hand. “I am not insane,” I muttered to myself, “I am not insane, I am not. I just had way too much beer last night, and I’m having a crazy dream as a result. None of this is real. When I wake up, all I’ll have to worry about is a bad hangover.”
She sighed. “Look, I know this is hard for you to take in all at once. I’ll leave you alone for a while, let you think. I’ll be in the next car if you need anything.”
Frankly, I did need something – food and water. I hadn’t eaten since dinner two days ago, and I already mentioned that I was out of water. But I wasn’t about to eat or drink anything from this place. If she was telling the truth, I thought, I would be home well before I keeled over and died. If she was lying… well, I didn’t want to think about it. “Just go away,” I muttered.
She gave me a sad look, but left. I spent the next half hour or so trying to make sense of her story, but it was a pointless endeavor. Perhaps it will be more understandable later, when I’ve learned more about this place. For the rest of the trip, I knelt in prayer, asking God for protection and the courage to do His will in this strange world. She found me like that when she returned. “Hey,” she said, walking through the door. “We’ll be stopping in less than five minutes, and I wanted to make sure that you’re… What are you doing?”
“Petitioning the Lord,” I replied, not standing up or looking at her.
“So… does he ever answer?” she asked, sounding skeptical.
“If you’re asking whether I’ve ever heard His voice or seen His face, then no. But He answers nonetheless. He gives us all we need, and, in His own, incomprehensible way, He aids those who call upon Him.”
“How do you even know he exists?”
“Because, deep within, He speaks to all of us, even if we can’t hear it as words.”
“So, just ‘because it feels right’?”
“Your words will not tempt me from God. His righteousness covers me, and it is in His name that I live.”
“But religion isn’t –!” She sighed. “Never mind. Look, we’re entering Ponyville. We’ll go to my castle, you can go through the Mirror, and neither of us will have to deal with this again.”
I suddenly remembered her saying something about “her castle” before. “You have a castle, huh? Are you a princess, too?” I asked sarcastically.
She drew herself up to her not-so-impressive full height. “As a matter of fact, yes. When I became an alicorn, Celestia declared me ‘the Princess of Friendship.’” She slumped back down. “It’s… taken a little getting used to.”
I gaped at her. “I… ‘Princess of…’?” I couldn’t help it – I fell to the floor and started rolling around in a fit of laughter. “What,” I forced out between guffaws, “is there a ‘Princess of Hugs’? A ‘Princess of Kindness’? A ‘Princess of Love’?”
She gave me a disapproving look. “I don’t see what’s so funny about this. As a matter of fact, my friend Fluttershy represents the Element of Kindness, and my sister-in-law Cadance is the Princess of Love.”
That prompted me to even louder explosions of mirth – at least until I noticed that she wasn’t joining in, and her glare had only deepened. “Wait… wait a minute,” I said, trying to catch my breath. “You’re… you’re actually serious?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
I groaned. “Oh, goody. I’m on the planet of the liberal-as-fuck shitheads. What, you going to tell me to check my white male hetero cis-gendered middle-class privilege?”
“Umm… no?”
“Well, thank the Lord for small miracles.”
“What was that even supposed to… You know what? I’m not even going to ask. Get your things. The train’s about to stop.”
Sure enough, I could feel the deceleration as I got up. I grabbed my rifle and followed her off the train.
Into a huge mess of soldiers wearing Greek-looking bronze armor polished so heavily that it looked like gold and armed with spears. I lifted the rifle towards her, but she anticipated it and ripped it out of my hands. I didn’t even have time to cock it. I went for my SAA next, despite knowing my situation was hopeless, and was wrapped in her pink light before I could clear leather. Except for my head, I was totally frozen. I used my limited mobility to glare at her and recite, “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for thou art with me.”
She raised an eyebrow. “I’m guessing that wasn’t addressed to me?”
“The Lord is on my side; I will not fear.”
“Yeah, I thought so. Look, they aren’t here to hurt you.”
I glanced at them, now noticing that some had wings, some had horns, and some had neither, but none except her had both. I didn’t ask about it, instead just saying, dryly, “You’ll forgive me if I don’t take your word for it.”
“If I wanted to harm you, I could’ve done that on the train.”
“Then what’s the goon squad for?”
“The ponies in this town are… a bit easily frightened. Celestia sent the Royal Guard to make sure they don’t panic.”
“She knows I’m here, does she?”
“Well, yeah. How else would I have known to go get you?”
“I feel so special.”
She groaned and pressed a hoof to her face. “Are you always this insufferable?”
“Whenever I can be.”
“Okay, fine. Be that way. Let’s just get you back home as quick as possible.” She started walking through the astonishingly Tudor – and equally pink – snow-covered town towards a massive spire of purple, white, and gold eyesore. And she carried me and my rifle with her, suspended off the ground and still trapped in her magic.
“Excuse me,” I said with an extremely thin veneer of politeness, “but I can walk, you know.”
Her back was to me, so I couldn’t see her face, but I could hear her growl. “I don’t trust you,” she snapped at me.
I grinned. “I’m glad to know that I’ve already been a good influence on you.”
She muttered something unintelligible and picked up her pace.
The sickeningly pastel townspeople gave us and the soldiers a wide berth, watching us pass with hushed conversations. I spent the trip glaring at the back of Twilight Sparkle’s skull. I’ll find some way to make her pay for that indignity.
As we entered the town square, a bright pink “normal” pony with a bizarrely curly mane bounced over the guard cordon and up to me. Yes, bounced, like a rubber ball.
“Hi! I’m Pinkie Pie! Great to meet you! I’ve never seen a human before! Well, not in person, anyways. I knew what you look like, though! Human Pinkie told me! But you don’t seem like a human.” She sprang up off the ground for far longer than she had any right to, and let out a long gasp. “Maybe you aren’t a human! Maybe you’re some sort of freaky alien that’s just pretending to be a human to gain our trust! No, that’s not right. Ooh! Ooh! I got it! You’re a human from a different dimension than human Pinkie! That’s kinda sad. How can you be from a place without a Pinkie? You must have another party pony! Or party human, I guess, but that just doesn’t roll off the tongue like ‘party pony’ does. Who is it? What are the parties like? Oh, is your dimension’s party pony an alternate Cheese Sandwich? It is! I just know it! We didn’t get along too well at first, but then I realized that he just wants to make ponies smile, like me! Have you gone to any of his parties? Human Pinkie’s parties are a lot like mine, but your dimension’s parties may be way different!” She gasped again. “I just realized! When I throw parties, they’re Pony Pinkie Pie Parties! That’s really fun to say! Pony Pinkie Pie Party! Pony Pinkie Pie Party! Pony Pinkie Pie Party! I’ve just got to throw one for you! A ‘Welcome to Equestria’ party! What kind of cake do you like? I’ve got chocolate cake, vanilla cake, carrot cake, pineapple upside-down cake –”
“SHUUUT UUUPPP!” I screeched. “SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! God! Listening to you is worse than being shot at by hajjis!”
Her mane lost its curls, turning straight, and a devastated look came over her face. “I… I…”
Twilight Sparkle glared at me. “Daniel Murphy! That was very mean of you! Apologize!”
“Like hell.”
A light blue pegasus with a rainbow-colored mane and tail flew up to me and adopted a human-like fighting pose, her back legs hanging down and her forelegs raised like fists. “Hey! Pinkie’s my friend, and if you’re mean to her, you’ll answer to me!”
“I’m terrified. And you are?”
“Rainbow Dash! Newest member of the Wonderbolts, fastest flyer in Equestria, and the most awesome pony around! So you better watch yourself, mister!”
“Uh-huh. ‘Rainbow Dash.’ Well, no surprise there. Now get out of my face, you insignificant little heap of pigeon feathers.”
“Okay, that’s it! Twilight, put him down so I can kick his flank!”
“Calm down, Rainbow Dash,” she said with a sigh. “He’s just trying to get under your skin.”
I grinned. “Trying? I’d say I’ve succeeded.”
“Okay, Daniel Murphy,” she snapped. “What’s the matter with you? Why are you acting like such a jerk to everypony?”
“God made man in his own image. The Bible doesn’t say anything about you.”
“The Bible? What’s… no, let me guess; your religious text? See, that’s the problem with religion. Not only does it ignore science, but it also pushes ponies towards divisiveness and unkindness.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold up,” Rainbow Dash interrupted. “What did you say his name is?”
I fixed her with a narrow gaze. “Daniel Murphy. It’s a good, Christian name. Got a problem with it?”
She burst out laughing, tears streaming from her eyes. “What sort of a name’s ‘Daniel Murphy’? Is your best friend ‘Fobis Wellap’?”
I gave a serpent-like hiss, which stopped her laughter quickly enough. Of course, it also made everyone else recoil in horror – fine by me. “I swear,” I spat out, “when I get free, I’m going to feed you those wings. You’ll scream, and you’ll beg, and you’ll choke, but you’ll eat every last bite. And then – maybe – I’ll let you die.”
There was a second of silence. Then the civilians started screaming and fled back to their homes, leaving behind myself, a broken Pinkie Pie, a shocked Rainbow Dash, a squad of angry guards, and a Twilight Sparkle who looked ready to burst into flames out of raw fury.
“How could you?!” she shrieked. “What sort of monster threatens to make a pony eat herself?!”
“Not a monster,” I replied quietly. “A man. A man who’s been forged by the fires of war, who’s been shaped by watching good friends die before his eyes, and who’s seen the suffering of thousands of innocents as their homes are destroyed and their families slaughtered. I’m a man whose favorite verses in the Bible are Psalm 139:21-22, Matthew 10:34, and Ephesians 4:26-27. ‘Do I not hate those who hate you, O Lord? And do I not loathe those who rise up against you? I hate them with complete hatred; I count them my enemies.’ ‘Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth. I have come not to bring peace, but a sword.’ ‘Be angry and do not sin; do not let the sun go down on your anger, and give no opportunity to the devil.’ I’m a man cut from the mold of the archangel Michael. I have the soul of a warrior. And I am also a man who’s been cut from a few other things. Cut off, that is – from my home, my friends, my family. I woke up in the desert yesterday with no idea how I got there and the specter of death hanging over me. When, by God’s grace, I managed to find my way to civilization, I discovered that I was in a world inhabited by inhuman monstrosities. One of the abominations, apparently one of their leaders, promptly tried to convince me to give up my faith. I was then ambushed by soldiers, disarmed, immobilized, and carried through the streets like the prize slaves in a Roman triumph. Finally, I was harassed by a pink spaz and threatened and belittled by some random bastard. Don’t you fucking dare criticize me.” (Yes, I did memorize my entire rant. I’m quite proud of it.)
“You’re completely insane,” she whispered, her eyes even wider than normal.
“Glad you fucking noticed.”
She stared at me for a while, then shook her head. “No. I can’t.”
“Excuse me?”
She gave me a look that was sad, yet at the same time, grimly determined. “I can’t let you go back to the human world like this,” she said. “You need help. If I let you go, you might hurt somepony, and it would be my fault. So for now, you’ll stay here. I’ll send a letter to Princess Celestia, ask for her opinion. But I think she’ll agree with me. I think I understand now – the Elements sent you here so you could learn the true meaning of friendship.”
“Fuck you!” I screamed, desperately straining to break her grip on me. “I don’t need your ‘help’! I have friends! I’ve got a family I’m supposed to be spending the holidays with! I’ve got brothers-in-arms I have to duty to go back to! Let! Me! GO!”
She sighed. “Look, Daniel Murphy, you’re not helping yourself here. You’re just proving that you really are mean and violent. Do your best to learn, and you might be able to go home within a week.”
“Damn you! Let me go home, you monster!”
My struggles, protests, and curses failed to have any effect on her. She still brought me to that crime against architecture that she calls her castle, but it wasn’t to send me “through the Crystal Mirror.” When she got to the front door, it was opened by a small, purple and green lizard-man who seemed quite put off by my continuing rage. She took my rifle, SAA, and knife and threw me into what looked like a guest bedroom. The door clicked behind me, but I smiled. I could move again, and she had made a very serious mistake. To me, everything’s a weapon. You just have to apply it properly. And she had locked me in a room with a lamp. It would almost be too easy. I grabbed it off the bed stand, then frowned when I realized there wasn’t a cord. Checking inside the lampshade, I saw that there wasn’t a lightbulb, but instead some sort of crystal. I didn’t waste my time trying to figure out how it worked, though. I took up a position next to the door and waited.
Some time later – I estimate about an hour, though I wasn’t checking my watch – the door clicked open, and she started to walk in. “I –” was as far as I let her get before swinging the lamp at her head with all my might. But she saw it coming. Not soon enough to take any intentional action, I don’t think, but as she winced, a pink bubble appeared around her, and the lamp shattered on impact with it. Both of us instinctively stumbled away from the flying shards, and before I could close the distance with her again, I was once more trapped in her telekinetic grip.
Her expression morphed from shock to disappointment, with a small core of anger. “I see we have a long way to go.”
“Fuck you.”
“Classy. I sent a letter to Princess Celestia. She agrees with me – you’ll be staying here until you learn how to interact with other ponies.”
“I’m not a pony.”
“You know what I mean! Look, the more you let us help you, the more pleasant this will be for everypony.”
“Again – Not a pony.”
She just shook her head. “I’m not getting into this. Your lessons will start tomorrow. I’m sure you’re starving, so I’ll be back with a meal for you. I don’t have any human food, but I know humans can eat salads, so I’ll give you one of those. This room has an adjoining bathroom, so you can clean up in there. Is there anything else you need – that you won’t try to attack me with?”
I sighed. Clearly, I wasn’t going to be fighting my way out of this. At least, not while she was still on her guard. I might as well try to make my imprisonment as pleasant for myself as possible. I thought for a moment. “A blank book and a pencil,” I replied. “I guess I oughta keep a journal. Maybe it’ll at least help me stay somewhat sane.”
She smiled at that suggestion. “You want to keep your own Journal of Friendship? That’s great! My friends and I –”
“No,” I cut her off. “Not a ‘Journal of Friendship.’ Just a journal. Fuck, is everything you say a torrent of hippie liberal shit?”
She sighed and rolled her eyes. “I won’t even ask. Fine. Just a journal. Do you promise not to try to stab me with the pencil?”
“Somehow, I get the feeling that wouldn’t be a very effective method of attack.”
“I’m not hearing a promise.”
I laughed. “You’re catching on fast! Okay, I promise.”
She stared intently at me for a few seconds. If she was a human, I’d say she was trying to decide whether I meant it or not. Seeing as I have no idea what these things actually are? God knows. But she eventually nodded. “You know, I believe you.”
“Of course. I would never break a promise. ‘Death before dishonor.’ Usually a Marine saying, but it suits me.”
The look she gave me was utterly indecipherable. The pursed lips and slightly raised eyebrows could’ve been confusion, surprised approval, or disdain. Or none of the above. “I’ll be back in a few minutes,” she said, then let me go, picked up the shards of the lamp, and left, locking the door behind her.
I went into the bathroom to wash my hands. I was surprised to find a toilet that was short, but would work for humans. One of my friends raises horses, and he taught me how to ride them. I was under the impression that they wouldn’t sit down unless trained to. I definitely wouldn’t think that a horse species would do their business sitting down. This was getting very, very suspicious.
As I washed my hands, I wondered about whether or not I should eat their food. The Bible tells us not to worry about eating food sacrificed to demons, as demons hold no power over us. But what about food created by demons? Intellectually, I knew the answer – God can sanctify anything. But I still felt nervous about it. After I washed up, I sat down on the short bed, pulled out my Bible, and turned to Matthew 15:11. “It is not what goes into the mouth that defiles a person.” That, combined with my hunger and thirst, decided it for me. It repulsed me, but I would eat their food and drink their water.
I had just slipped my Bible back inside my vest when Twilight Sparkle came in, levitating a plate of salad and a glass of water. “I, uh, don’t have any forks,” she said apologetically.
“I wouldn’t expect you to.”
“I’ll be back to get the dishes and bring the journal.”
No reason to antagonize her now, I decided. If I can get on her good side – assuming she isn’t a demon – then I might be able to make her relax enough to give me a chance to escape. “No rush,” I replied, trying to sound friendly. She seemed a little suspicious of me. It was too quick a change in demeanor, I suppose. But she set the plate and glass down on the bed stand and turned to leave. I clasped my hands, closed my eyes, and bowed my head. “Heavenly Father,” I prayed, “thank You for delivering me out of my wanderings in the wilderness, as You did the Israelites. Though I now reside in a land without Christian brothers to fellowship with, I know that You are watching over me. Lord, give me strength to overcome the trials and tribulations that await me. Bless this food, so that it may empower my body as Your Holy Spirit empowers my soul. In the name of Jesus, amen.” When I opened my eyes and looked up, I saw Twilight Sparkle staring at me from the doorway with a pitying look on her face.
“You really believe all that religious stuff, don’t you?”
“With every ounce of my being.”
She let out an exasperated sigh and left. I turned to my meal. I would’ve preferred a nice steak, but I was hungry enough to eat basically anything, and I knew the chances of a horse having that available were basically none. Plus, I recalled her saying that cows were sentient in this world. I’ll have to find some other animal to get my protein from – pigs, probably. I had cleaned my plate by the time she came back with the book and pencil. Thank God, it was a simple volume with a blank, brown cover. I thanked her for the food and book, which made her look really wary of me.
And that brings me to now. Writing this journal entry at six o’clock in the evening, on what I assume to be Saturday, so long as the week here is the same as on Earth. The times seem to be, so I assume the weeks are as well. I just checked my phone. It’s dead, as I expected after several days without charging. What I now have on me is a useless phone, a useless wallet, an empty canteen, an ammo pouch with sixty black powder .44-40 rounds, an empty scabbard for my knife, an empty holster for my SAA, my current set of filthy clothes, and my Bible.
I have all that I will need.
Tomorrow is the Lord’s Day, and I will devote it to the worship of God, regardless of whatever Twilight Sparkle attempts to make me do. She has far more strength than I could ever hope to overcome in my current state, but I am not afraid of her. I will write another journal entry on Monday morning, assuming I survive that long. I leave you, dear reader, with a few verses to bolster your spirit, in case this is the only entry I write.
Matthew 10:28 – “And do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul. Rather fear him who can destroy both body and soul in hell.”
Psalm 139:7-12 – “Where shall I go from your Spirit? Or where shall I flee from your presence? If I ascend to heaven, you are there! If I make my bed in Sheol, you are there! If I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there your hand shall lead me, and your right hand shall hold me. If I say, ‘Surely the darkness shall cover me, and the light above me be night,’ even the darkness is not dark to you; the night is bright as the day, for darkness is as light with you.”
Proverbs 21:31 – “The horse is made ready for the day of battle, but the victory belongs to the LORD.”