> Wash Your Hands All You Want... > by TyRex > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > ... But You'll Never Wash Those Sins Away > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Twilight stood, watching the seemingly unidentifiable corpse. She was shocked beyond words. She had lost all train of thought, staring down at the body. She couldn't even remember what had brought her here in the first place.   She slowly brought her hands to her face, as her worst expectation became realized: her hands were bloodied, and she was standing in the small, bloody room, staring down at the impossibly bloody, mess of what used to be a live person.   “How’d I wind up here again…?” Twilight asked herself, a hint of despair and utter shock trailing her voice.   “It’s like…” Twilight began, in a stuttering, whimpering voice.   “I’m always getting blood on my hands…” Twilight finished, falling to her knees. As she looked a little closer, she saw the hair of Rainbow Dash, muddled with the thick cranberry-colored substance, with the consistency of mud.   “Why can’t I…?” Twilight began to ask herself, her every movement stuttered with shock, despair, and a desperate desire to be freed from this place.   She lifted the bloodied corpse, revealing that it had the face of Fluttershy. She inhaled sharply, the tears beginning to roll down her face.   “Why can’t I seem to escape from this…?” Twilight asked herself with desperation.   As she glanced closer again, she noticed that from the corpse fell a hat that resembled Applejack’s own. It, too, was messed with the cranberry-mud-like substance.   She felt her hands shake as she held the body. As she looked at the body’s chest, it had the bloodied cutie mark of three cerulean gems. A rarity, for sure.   “It’s like it follows me, eternally…” Twilight cried, hunching over the body, filled and shaken with the sights.   As she opened her eyes again, she saw some ruffled, sticky fur. It looked to be originally white, but was covered with blood, making the strands of fur stick out oddly and unnaturally.   “Why…?” Twilight cried.   “Why does my past chase me like this…?”   Suddenly, Twilight woke up from her nightmare. She tossed the sheets off of her, breathing heavily, and grasping for something, anything to hold!   As her excitement calmed, she hunched over her bed, holding her face in her hands, wiping her eyes. Still, she couldn't shake the sick feeling in the pits of her stomach, as her breathing refused to stop its haggard behavior.   Tired and still shaken, she stumbled over to the bathroom. She saw the faucet, and began to head for it, wishing for some cold water to hit her face, so that she could properly awaken from her nightmare.   She tripped over some wares, and hit her nose hard, as it began to leak blood over hands. Groaning, she picked herself back up, and rushed over to the faucet, feeling the fluids drain from her nose.   She looked in the mirror. She was a mess: her hair was terribly ruffled, unorganized, and parted in several different areas, showing that she was losing her hair; her face was pale with sleep deprivation, stress, and work; and her eyes had sunken deep with sleepless nights and constant terrors revisiting her.   She tried to wash the blood off of her hands, but she became frustrated, as the substance had dried, and was sticking to her hands.   She scrubbed harder and harder, and still, the red stain persisted, angering her. No matter how she washed, and how she scrubbed her hands together, it seemed as if the redness had seeped into her very being. Twilight directed her anger towards her wife, who she assumed was still in bed, sleeping, instead of being here with her, in her panic.   “Where is she when you need her!? Isn’t she my wife? Isn’t she meant to calm me down…?” Twilight asked with great hostility, annoyed that she was in her bathroom freaking out all alone, when she was married.   She looked up at her angry face in the mirror, and instead of seeing it staring back, she saw the cold, unapproving face of Pinkie Pie, with her arms crossed behind Twilight. Pinkie's cold eyes seemed to pierce Twilight's soul, as her mouth finally began to move.   “Wash your hands all you want. You’ll never wash away the sins that those hands committed.” Pinkie Pie said, as Twilight could do nothing but stare at her in the mirror. She was shocked, appalled!   You’re a liar. You’re perfidious. You’re selfish. You’re savagely unkind. Never, have I seen someone smile or laugh doing the things you’ve done.” Pinkie Pie scolded with harsh resentment. Tears welled up in Twilight's eyes, as she sniffed once, feeling the fluids about to pour out in mixture with the blood.   “Your friends. Me, your own wife. And you’re meant to be the Princess of Friendship? You’re nothing but a monster.” Pinkie Pie said, as her hands tightened with anger and disappointment. Twilight could feel the guilt bellow within her being.   Tears rolled down Twilight’s cheeks, and the fluids leaked slowly from her nose.   Suddenly, she turned, and yelled. “Pinkie! It’s not like that, and you know it! It's not my-” Twilight began, with a fierce, emotional yell, as tears ran down her face, and mucus poured from her nose, mixing with the blood from earlier.   “-... fault…!” Twilight finished, realizing that Pinkie wasn’t even there. Twilight held her head with both hands, as she felt her loose her hair come looser with her tugging on it. Her head throbbed, her belly growled, and her body shook. "That's right... She's not here anymore..." Twilight thought, as her emotions eased slightly.   Pinkie Pie, too, had died years ago. It seemed even when she was awake, the nightmares still haunted her. Perhaps, she was in a permanent state of the nightmare; perhaps she'd never woken up.   Calming herself to whatever extent possible, Twilight simply washed her hands again. She had just realized that she used no soap, and was pleased to see the blood wash off of her hands and face. She washed her face, her hands, and her face once more. She was fairly calm now, as she began to rub her hands together in the water again, thinking about how to prepare for the long day ahead of her.   However, as she stared into the mirror once more, and saw her face while hearing the water run, that line ran through her mind once more, sending a chill in her spine, cramps in her stomach, and throbs in her head. The line that haunted her since Day One, and the final thing that Pinkie Pie had told her.   “Wash your hands all you want. No matter how much blood went down those drains, it’ll never take with it, the sins of those evil, evil hands. You’re a monster.”