Just film it in slow motion.
Bleak. Empty. Desolate. Those were the only words to describe her future. The stark gray dust that coated the surface was bleak. She pawed at the dust once again, watching her navy blue hoof carve a thin line into the surprisingly sharp surface. She focused her empty aqua colored eyes on the horizon. The desolate landscape was barren of all but dust and rocks. Her future was bleak, empty, and desolate. Just like her moon.
Luna frowned. No, it was more than that. There was life here, thrumming just beneath the surface. More than that, she had brought Herself and one more. The light of the moon was not its own, but it had its own spirit, its own soul. Discounting the moon was one final act of disrespect she simply couldn’t bring herself to do. The moon had suffered enough.
She pawed the dusty surface once again, perhaps for the millionth time, watching the dust particles float gently up from around her hoof, as if in slow motion.
The spirit of the moon had once seemed like such a far away entity, the source of her power and the source of her hunger. Long ago, it had seemed alien and strange while still being welcoming to her. She had ran to it in a way, and it had accepted her. It was her own special love.
Now it was the only love she could ever have.
No longer a stranger, the moon spirit and her were intimately entwined. She’d given it her mortality, and it had given her insight. She’d given it her dreams, and it had given her the duty to guard the night. She’d given it her devotion, and it had given her power.
And yet, its physical body was this lifeless rock that she was stranded on. Such a wonderful entity deserved a better vessel than this. From a distance it looked magical, but up close it was ugly and pocked.
Just like you.
Luna’s frown deepened. The other one was back again.
We’ve never left. We never will. You know that.
The voice was her own, of course. Just one more symptom of the madness that still consumed her. Sadly, it was the only clear sound she’d heard in over a hundred years. The surface of the moon was impossibly silent. Even her own hoof steps were eerily muted.
Luna began to beat her chest, trying to drown the voice out with the loud thumps that reverberated through her body. This was the only other sound on the moon. The sound of defiance.
Don’t be like that. You’re only hurting yourself. We both know that you need somebody to talk to.
Luna beat her chest harder, ignoring the sharp bite as her armored hoof cut into her body.
Fine. We don’t wish to watch you hurt yourself. We’ll be quiet. For now.
Luna stopped, noting that her hoof was spattered red. The pain didn’t matter, and perhaps if she bled enough she’d eventually pass out from blood loss. The floating dust cloud she’d drummed up with her thrashing began to stick to her bloodied wound, coating it a thick gray mud.
She and the moon were one again, her beating red lifeblood was soaking in its dry and dusty promises. She watched the blood settle into the moon dust. The moon was thirsty, her splattered blood was instantly absorbed, perhaps being drunk by the moon itself.
Who was she to deny it? Luna licked her dry lips with a dry tongue. She’d give her moon spirit what it craved. Her moon had always been inexplicably linked to blood, just as she had been to violence.
Somethings never change.
Searing pain filled her body as she used her magic to tear the wound open wider. The world grew dark and gray as she did her best to scatter her bones as far apart as possible. Hoping to sink into the moon forever and be consumed by her beloved dust.
As her vision blurred, she saw a slowly blooming rose of blood surround her, while a sad voice chastised quietly.
Madness has taken you….
-----
Luna woke up, surprised to not be half buried in dust. She’d fallen asleep on a bed of reddish rock, a rarity to find on this empty landscape. Something felt off.
She was missing her front left armored shoe. Her hoof was bare. Where had it gone?
You threw it into the dust. It’s gone.
Luna would have done no such thing. It was one of her only mementos. What it represented, she couldn’t remember anymore, but besides herself, her garments were the only things that came from… home.
Please don’t think about home right now.
And why not? She shouldn’t be here. She should be home. She deserved to be pampered and taken care of. She deserved grapes on a plate. She deserved water. Oh it had been so long since she’d drank anything. The dry moon dust had parched her beyond reason. She’d give anything for water. Even her other shoes.
You deserve everything you have, and nothing more.
Luna growled. She had nothing. At the least, she deserved to be home.
You deserve nothing. You are a monster.
Angered, Luna called on the power of the moon, calling forth her eternal might. She would go home, and nothing would stop her. She would descend like the night itself, bringing a flurry of armor and blood upon that arrogant creature. The fool would feel her wrath, and then die screaming.
No.
Nothing happened. Her power was denied.
Luna screamed silently, her rage overflowing. This spell could not hold her forever, it would break. She would break it.
You can not break it. Feel for it, you fool. There is nothing to break. You’ve already tried this too many times to count.
Luna collapsed onto the rock where she had stood. The voice was right. She’d tried this hundreds of times. There was no spell, none that she could find a least. Her power simply refused to respond. That bitch had done something to her when she had been imprisoned. Her rage slowly slipped into sadness as she stared at the rock she’d been sleeping on. It was oddly colored for a moon rock.
Why had that bitch done this to her? Simply to prove that she was worthless? That their little ponies didn’t need Luna?
It wasn’t like that. You almost did something terrible.
Luna scoffed, swallowing back a sob. She’d ran out of tears so many years ago, but sometimes the sobs would catch her. Sobbing in a vacuum was an unpleasant experience, so she avoided it.
Arguing with the voice was tiresome. She should be productive. At the very least she should look for her shoe. It would be a shame for it to be lost forever, and it wasn’t as though she had something better to do.
It went towards Charon.
Luna looked at the sky, and felt for the star. It was still there, pulsing far away in the distance. She knew that Charon hadn’t been its name when she’d originally been imprisoned, but after so many years with the stars not changing she’d decided to rename them. Their old names were meaningless now, after all.
Silently, she skipped across the dusty surface, starting her search. Days, weeks, or months might pass, but it wouldn’t matter.
She had all the time she would ever need.
----
Luna stared at her shoe, disturbed by what she found. The blood on it didn’t bother her. She was used to blood, even her own. What bothered her was the leg and hoof still wearing it.
That was clearly her severed leg lying sideways in the dust, a small dark rock pooling around it. She’d started to realize that her bed hadn’t been a bed at all.
Sometimes she forgot things. Like how blood soaked into the moon dust, and congealed into a hard rock. She hadn’t woken up, she’d been resurrected.
Again. Try to remember.
Luna picked up her severed leg with her magic, and gently slipped her armored shoe off. How many times was it now? The voice was right. This wasn’t her first time being foolish. She’d just forgotten.
Like you forget everything.
The shoe fit perfect as Luna slid it on. She let out a relieved smile, glad for the familiar sensation.
You’re pathetic, you know that? I try to tell you one little thing and you rip yourself apart in defiance.
Luna smirked, tapping her shoe into the dust. She didn’t consider that pathetic, she considered it exemplary. She would never surrender.
Surrender? Is that what you think we want?
Of course it was what the voice wanted. The voice was her madness, and she refused to surrender.
You had merely wanted silence, and we’d even conceded! You are the mad one here!
Silence would be nice for a while, Luna decided.
Oh, she was definitely mad. She was quite sure of it by now. She looked up at the horizon, and slowly scanned the surface of the moon until she saw her own skipping tracks. She should head back to where she’d died. Where she was on the moon didn’t usually matter, but her last suicide had left a nice large blood rock for her to sleep on, and she wasn’t going to waste it.
Gently skipping back, she focused on the memory of her most recent death. The pain had been… exhilarating. Luna had never been a masochist, but feeling anything was worth it now and then. At least dying reminded her that she was alive.
She’d left her severed limb where she’d found it, although she was briefly tantalized with the thought of bringing it back and starting a collection. She could build another pony out of her parts. It could be a long term project. She’d already drawn a big angry face to remind her sister that Luna was still up here, and something else to occupy her time would be welcome.
Still, playing with the dead was frowned upon. But were her spare limbs really dead? She dismissed the idea when she realized that it would never have a proper head or torso. Luna supposed she could behead herself, and see which part of her regenerated. If she was lucky, it would switch up and she could get a spare head and torso for her doll.
Please don’t. That is both gruesome and disgusting. Surely even you can find something better to waste your efforts on.
Luna rolled her eyes. It was just a thought experiment. Of course she’d never do something like that. Not in a hundred years.
It’s already been a hundred years.
Luna stopped her skipping, and looked over her shoulder at where she’d came from. It had been a hundred years, at least. Probably more. Had it really been so long since she’d seen somebody else? Had it really been so long since she’d eaten a grape or even drawn a breath?
Luna froze, contemplating her continued existence. The moon wouldn’t let her die, not anymore. Not after what she’d promised it.
Yes. You’re close.
Close?
Luna scoffed. She was literally walking on the moon. She could be no closer. Still, perhaps that leg would be useful in some way. At least it was different.
… and here we go again. Can you at least try to stay focused?
Luna conceded that perhaps the leg was a little too much for now. But she needed something.
No, go back to thinking on why you’re here.
Dwelling on the past wouldn’t help her. The voice was getting annoying again.
You absolute imbecile! We have to dwell on the past! It holds the key!
Luna grinned. And she was the lock.
No! We are the lock! You must find the key!
Luna turned around. She’d find the damned key all right. It would be blue, fuzzy, and exactly as long as her front left leg. She’d call it Primuline. It would be her first friend here on the moon.
You are disturbed.
Luna smiled, glad she was the one that was being disturbing.
------
Primuline was tired, so she was resting on Luna’s blood-rock. It had been an exciting night. They had climbed into the crater of the giants fall and gone swimming in the ocean of dust. Luna had been looking for the giant that was rumored to live in the crater, but Primuline had grown weary and demanded they return. Now she rested while Luna planned. If she could find the giant, she could convince it to throw her off the moon.
If you want to leave, you know what you have to do.
Luna growled. The voice had returned again. Hopefully Primuline wouldn’t notice. She was prone to fits of jealousy.
How mad have you become? We’ve stayed quiet in the hopes that you would find a moment of lucidity, but it’s been over a year since you last pretended to be sane.
Sanity was wasteful. There was so much to be had by embracing the moon spirit’s gifts.
Do you really believe this is what the moon wishes for us? Tell us, where is your power? Why has it not come?
Luna glared down at her severed leg. It was wearing her shoe again. Sometimes Primuline snuck it away. That shoe was the symbol of her power, and she would have it back.
One way or another.
Luna bared her teeth.
---
The funeral was going well. Luna was well dressed, having shined up her armor and horn, scrubbing them down with moon dust to bring out that special luster. Everybody was in attendance to mourn Primuline, even the voice.
Don’t drag us into this insane charade.
The voice had nothing better to do, so it would honor Primuline’s life. It had been a full life for a severed leg, fifty odd ears of adventures and mayhem. And now it was over.
Luna allowed herself a few painful sobs, wracking her body painfully with the vacuum of space. She remembered how to cry, and now Primuline was gone. Forever.
It was your fault. You broke her. It is typical for you to be so careless.
It was true. Luna always hurt the ones she loved. In her moment of respect for her deceased friend, she resolved to focus, and forgive. Even the voice deserved forgiveness.
No, we don’t. We are the one thing you should never forgive.
Luna smiled serenely. The voice would be forgiven. The one she would never forgive still walked free. Everyone else was blameless.
You know who we are. You do not have the power to forgive us.
Frustration bled into Luna’s thoughts. The voice was right, once again. It always was. After all, it was herself. She could never, ever forgive that person. That person was the worst creature to ever live. Well, second worst. The bitch was still the most hated thing to exist.
You are despicable and worthless.
Luna acknowledged the voice, admitting that perhaps it was her number three most hated person.
---
Shame filled her. She’d been caught.
We are one, we cannot catch you for we are you.
Lately the voice had been the mad one, and Luna was simply bored. She’d sought to alleviate her boredom by having a little private time, but the voice had interrupted her with a cryptic riddle. Now she was too embarrassed to continue, and the voice was waiting for an answer that would never come.
Just like yourself.
Luna blushed. Was this intentional? Was it actively ruining her good time? I had been a few years since she’d tried to do anything like this, and the voice had always let her alone before, so why was it interrupting?
You could have had everything. Any stallion you ever wanted at your beck and call. All the grapes you could eat. It was all within your reach and you dropped it, let it spill fruitlessly on the ground like some unprepared pubescent colt. You failed, and now we suffer as she enjoys endless fruits.
Luna shivered, imagining endless fruits. Tall, strong, stallions put their hard gray legs around her as they climbed on top, burying her in dust. The sensation made her feathers tingle.
They were hard, she remembered. Like rocks. They’d tear her insides, raking across her flesh as they took her.
You’ve forgotten what touch is like, haven’t you? The voice sounded sad.
Of course Luna knew what touch was like. Touch was hard and gravely, or sharp and strong. Light touches were like dust falling through her feathers.
Please, we cannot bear this. Allow us your hoof for a moment. We will be gentle.
Luna wasn’t supposed to let the voice use her body. She knew that. But she was already doing something wrong, and it had caught her. The thought of her deviancy made her heart beat in her chest. Just a hoof, and just for a minute.
Slowly, her hoof raised of its own accord. Apparently she’d decided. She wished she’d let herself know that she decided, but she didn’t fight back. The hoof raised in front of her face as she looked at it. Luna marveled as it gently dipped forward and pressed into her cheek.
It was warm.
Luna closed her eyes and pretended for a peaceful moment that she wasn’t alone.
---
Luna threw another rock across the dusty sea, watching it send gray clouds into the black sky. How long had she been here now?
Three hundred years or so. Does it matter anymore?
Luna supposed that it didn’t. She threw another rock.
I’m bored. Lets play again.
Luna shrugged. Why not? There was nothing else to do. But who would be what?
I will be the body this time, and you will be the hoof.
Luna nodded. It had been a while since she’d been the hoof. What if she spiced it up a bit?
We agree. You shall be two hooves then.
The voice smiled, leaning back in Luna’s body. She let the sharp, cutting stone dig into her back as she spread her wings against the dusty surface. Two hooves began to dance across her body.
The voice closed her eyes and smiled. The hooves were warm, and even their hard edges were soft compared to the jagged dusty rocks that filled her world.
Luna was careful with the hooves, she didn’t want to hurt the voice. Not this time. This time was for fun. She wished she had a mouth, or anything she could use to help. Magic maybe, but The Voice had their body. All Luna was allowed was the hooves. Still, she had done this before.
A hoof danced up and down their torso, and the voice sighed as it softly tussled her dusty underbelly. Carefully, Luna grabbed a nipple, pleased with the quiet acceptance as the voice softly whispered to her. More… Please…
Tonight, the voice would be her play thing; as it should be.
----------------------
The voice stared at the stars unblinkingly. How long had she been staring? Who’s turn was it this year? Luna? Luna? I’ve forgotten who I am. Am I you?
Luna briefly panicked before calming down. No, that would be silly. She was her and Luna was herself.
But then whose turn is it?
Luna didn’t know. She was sure there was something important, though. Oh! She remembered now! It was the five hundredth year!
That’s not what I asked...
That meant five hundred summer sun celebrations, and not one winter moon celebration. Perhaps twenty generations of ponies. Perhaps more. By now she was less than legend. She was simply a bedtime story to scare fillies.
How perverse… Surely even she wouldn’t allow that for us?
No, she would. And the children that Luna once vowed to protect would fear her. Their once guardian.
We will destroy her for this.
At least Luna was a bed time story. Even if she was portrayed as a monster, at least it was at night.
It’s insulting. Simply demeaning! I’ll give her a nightmare unlike any other…
Luna frowned. Who was she again? She wasn’t supposed to switch with the voice. It was dangerous. Was that the right word? But they’d been playing together now for so long. She didn’t know who either was. Perhaps she was the voice?
It doesn’t matter anymore. We will spend an eternity on our moon. The spell that holds us can not be broken.
Stomping angrily, Luna demanded the voice be quiet. There was no spell. How many times did she have to explain it? The moon itself was the cage and she was the key!
There’s no key , you idiot. The bitch trapped us here to suffer while she dines on grapes! And it’s not only grapes. She has stallions with their hooves all over her whenever she wants. Ten, twenty hooves anywhere and everywhere.”
Pain racked her body as Luna sobbed an airless sob. They were rare, but they hurt worse than death. The voice talked of grapes, but neither of them remembered what a grape even was. Luna desperately tried to remember. It was purple and round. Soft? Like a hoof maybe? She put her hoof in her mouth, running her tongue across her soft frog. It tasted dry and dusty. Was that how grapes tasted?
No! They were juicy. Sweet and juicy!
Luna bit her hoof hard, letting the blood flow into her mouth. It was irony, sticky and moist.
Yesss… Like that. Grapes are like blood. But round.
Luna took her hoof out of her mouth, and spit a glob of blood into the dust, watching the thirsty course grit soak it up and congeal quickly. She waited as she watched. Eventually the blood and dust would harden into a blood-rock. Then she would eat it.
We will taste grapes. We will remember sweet.
--------
Tears streamed down her face. How long had it been since she had cried? She didn’t even know she could cry anymore. The voice had been ignoring her for years now. Had it been two or twenty, she wasn’t sure. She was sorry! She was so sorry.
She had been the voice, or the voice was her. She had wanted to play. The voice didn’t. She’d made it. It had felt so good at the time. Forcing her hoof inside, watching the voice scream in pain. She imagined it was her sis… the bitch. She’d made it say all sorts of wonderful things while she’d hurt it. But then, it went silent.
It was so quiet without the voice. Luna begged it to come back. She tried to be it. It always said impossible things like there was no spell, and it was the key. She’d forced herself to say those things. But it didn’t work. They voice hadn’t come back. Even when she pretended to be the voice, and tried to use her hooves on herself, it just wasn’t right. The voice had left.
Had it gone back? Had it left her here alone, forever trapped? How had it escaped? Luna fumed, imagining it talking to the bitch. It would tell her all of Luna’s secrets. And the bitch would know how much Luna hated her.
Luna paused her fury. Maybe that wasn’t so bad. A small kernel of satisfaction bloomed in Luna’s heart. If the voice had gone to betray her to the Bitch, then her rage and fury would be told. The tears slowed down Luna’s face, and trickled to a stop as a malicious grin slowly spread across her face. This would be the last time she cried.
No…
Pain racked her body as she laughed maniacally. So the voice hadn’t left. Good.
It was time to hear her scream again. Luna wiped her tears on her hoof, and then trailed it down her body.
---------
Bleak. Empty. Desolate. She knew these words. Luna glanced up at her high Gothic style roof. She hadn’t killed herself in a long, long time. Instead, she made the voice bleed for her. She’d built this castle from the voice’s blood and the voice’s suffering. Over two hundred years of torture and construction. And it was beautiful. Wasn’t it?
Yes, Luna.
Luna smiled. The voice was obedient now. It was quiet, demure, and it did as it was told. It had been broken. She walked slowly up the stairs, reminiscing each slow and careful cut, each scream from the voice as it begged for mercy. Until eventually it stopped begging. The voice understood now. Luna was Luna and the voice was the voice. It existed to suffer in order to make her life more bearable.
Yes, Luna.
Luna eased into her throne to look out her window. Perhaps she’d have a blood bath tonight? She was craving something sweet, after all.
Wouldn’t you rather know a secret, Luna?
The voice was tired. Luna felt a new sensation as a forgotten magic flowed into her.
She was Luna, right?
That’s part of the secret. Don’t you want to know?
The stars were twinkling through her window. How long had she been up here again? Why was she even here?
Because you’re the Nightmare. Remember? I made you.
Nightmare walked to the window, and looked down upon her desolate kingdom. It was nice, but she wanted more.
It’s been a thousand years, Nightmare. I surrender. I couldn’t do it. Let’s leave. The stars are right. You can kill my sister, ruin the world, eat your grapes. Anything you want. The moon never cared. It’s cold and empty, like our heart.
Without thought, as though compelled by an unknown force, Nightmare spread her wings and leaped from the window. Before she even knew what happened, she was free and sailing into the void between the moon and Equestria.
Dearest Nightmare. It will be some time before we arrive. Perhaps we can play one more time, but gently?
Nightmare’s mind filled with images of grapes, hard little rocks that tasted of blood when they were bitten. She remembered stallions, how their dusty hooves would once caress her. Power flowed into her as she crossed the void, pulling from the stars themselves. She would make them taste her dry flesh. She would play with them.
But first she would play with Luna.
For the first time in a thousand years, Luna cried.