> Another ANON FILLY Story
>  by FIM Fiction
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Chapter 1, A Random Profecy
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Once upon a time, long long ago, there lived three nations. The Unicorns, the Pegasi, and the Earth Ponies. These three nations fought one another. Their hate for each other grew so strong, that the land herself grew sick of pony kind. And so Gaia, mother of all nature, gave birth to creatures of coldness and dark, that feasted on the hate. To give birth to such hateful creatures, she fouled a part of Earth, The Tar Pits of Malice. A womb that would only bring forth the most awful one things. Only when the tribes learned to see one another as brother and sister would her terrible children leave.

And it worked. The three nations starved and bled, but one day a spell fashioned from good will and love drove back the Windigos. The nations fought wars for any scrap, cannibals had been slain from all parties. Families had to decide who lived and who died. And Gaia saw it good, for they learned to acknowledge one another, and depend on another's warmth. And so she went to slumber, until she was needed once more. 

But there were those who thought the three nations should not be joined. They tried to separate the nations, in any way they could. Assassinations, blackmail, lies and deceit. They brought gods from other realities where dreams became anguish, only for heroes to rise up and slay them. They released The Father of Monsters, Grogar himself. They persisted even as Immortal Goddesses of Day and Night took the throne and defended their nation.

And so they grew tired of Failures. They grew tired of Pony kind being one. And so one went to the place where none of the others dared to go. To the Pit of Malice. 





A hooded figure sat within a dark, dank cave, writing. He seemed to chuckle to himself, every so often.

Journal entry 9452. Those fools think that we should give up. That Ponykind should get to frolic in its glory and splendor. They disgust me. But now they will praise me. I found it. I found the cursed womb. This time we will make a creature as fearsome as the windigos, and there will be no way to stop them.

He stopped, turning to face a shaking burlap sack. "Come on then, we shouldn't dilly dally for too long after all." He reached out and grabbed the sack, dragging it deeper into the darkness. "We have so much work to do."





And so the forces of darkness fought on, trying to destroy Equestria. Forces rose and fell. Tirek. Chrysalis. Discord. But there were always heroes. Until finally, they gained a win. The Pony of Shadows consumed the pillars and sent Equestria into a state of madness not seen since the days of Grogar himself. 

But as with every other time, Pony kind rose back up. This time wielding the Elements of Harmony, the most powerful magic ever seen. And in the hooves of goodness, an infinite one. Even as they tainted the very protector of dreams, Celestia prevailed, stronger than ever. And on that night, their forces were slaughtered. Scattered to the wind, only the young survived.

And STILL they persisted. As mere street thugs, gangs and multiversel maniacs. Even as the Mare in the Moon rejoined her sister, they persisted as always. But one in particular still lived. Waiting in the darkest of darkness. One who watched and learned from every villain to have ever been. And so, he released his monster. For what could destroy something that even a lord of chaos failed to? A being of pure chance. A Randomness. And so he named it so, Random Chance. A creature that could twist a creature's fate until it was unrecognizable from its own species.

The lands cried and six ponies rose to slay this beast, traveling to the dreaded womb. They did not return. And so Random spread. And spread. AND SPREAD... Until the whole nation was warped. And the master laughed and laughed, until he discovered he could no longer control his monster. And so, Random continued to spread, until he had consumed the whole continent. Other gods tried to kill him. And so he ate them.

His master, he kept alive. To show all the horrible things he would do. To show all that he could do. And so he consumed until he reached the oceans. And so he drank. He drank the oceans, and the lakes, and the skies, until water could not be found. He consumed until he had covered the whole of Gaia. And then he ate.

He ate away the land. He ate the mountains. He ate the valleys. He ate the very caverns of the earth. He ate until Gaia could live no more. And so he kept her corpse as a trophy. As a testimony to all he had done.

And so his Master did as he had always done. He conspired to destroy. He told his monster, Look, look at the stars. See how brightly they burn? Eat the stars and burn brighter, my boy.

And so, the moon was spared. Random traveled the cold dark of space and flew into the Sun. But the master was too skilled in what he had created.

Random ate the sun.

Then he burned the moon, and ate it's ashes.

And so Random went, consuming the stars and the earths, make the great expanse emptier and emptier. Until he grew bored, and opened a crack in reality itself, to go even further. Yet something prevented him from going to the other side. He could only send his influence, his will, but not his form.  So he tried to make a vessel that could hold his mind on the other side. And failed.

And so he tried many more times, trying to go beyond, and failing. Making many more vessels, and failing every time.

His actions did not go unnoticed. For even as Luna was there to protect the Night, and Celestia to protect the Ponies, there was one to protect the heavens.

THE GIANT. A creature so massive and powerful, it could move the stars. It watched the first star go out, and knew what needed to be done. To fight a monster so Random, one would need a creature just as random. Or a prophecy, written into the fate of Reality itself. He witnessed the Cracks form, and sent aid to those outside, even as darkness grew in his own reality. He found ways to combat the Children of Random.

But once the last star was consumed, there would be nothing to stop Random Chance from leaving. Random Chance was a problem that could not be avoided. A Hero was needed.

And so he searched for a mortal who could stop this madness. One pure in heart, devout in spirit. THese would be great attributes. But above all, one unwilling to change for any scenario, no matter how severe the consequence...





Anon woke with a snort. "Huh? Wazat?" He toppled out of bed, slamming his face into the ground. "Ah shit!" Anon let out a groan, slowly pulling himself up. "Ow. Alright, let's see what's on the schedule today," he said, slightly in pain. Anon pulled a notepad out of his nightstand. "Annoy that person..." Anon read. He hummed. "Annoy who?" Anon flipped the page. "Oh that's right, annoy everyone!" 

Anon dropped the notepad, heading to his closet to get dressed. As the notepad landed, it revealed it only had doodles of poorly drawn penises.
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CHAPTER ! IS COMPLETE! If you are here from the previous story, then you are in for a treat! And remember, if you like this story, then lick the green thumb so others know it's worth reading! Or click it, whichever you prefer.
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> Chapter 2, The Bootlegger
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------



The Gods scream when a roach joins their ranks.



Anon let out a yawn, stretching his arms upwards. "Gawdyum, it feels like its gonna be a fantastic day." Anon tossed aside his night cap, checking a calendar on the wall. "Let's see, it's a week day in the summer of 1924. First things first. A nice HOT shower." 

Anon went to his drawers and pulled out a somewhat ragged suit, and proper undergarments. He bunched them under his arm, heading to his bathroom. "Anon sings loudly," sang Anon, moving a hand through the air, as though he was conducting. He threw off his pajamas, turning on the water. "Anon sings , then- Oh, the water's warmed up!" Anon stepped into the shower, tapping in tune on the wall.

A loud tapping sounded in reply from the floor. "Keep it down!" a muffled voice called out angrily. 

Anonymous hummed loudly, before he started drumming on the wall. "Anon continues to sing loudly" he sang,  lathering his body with a bar of soap. The tapping from beneath the floor soon became a loud banging.

"Boy, don't you test me now, darn you!" the voice called out. "I swear, you keep at that and there'll be trouble!"

Anon let out a laugh. "You stole my pants last week Mrs Croumer! You can stuff it where the sun don't shine!" He set his  bar of soap to the side, and had a thought. He started to tap dance, the thuds shaking the shower slightly. 

"That's it! You've forced my wrath you stupid boy! Behold, the power of Voodoo!" The thuds from the floor stopped, replaced by a faint chanting.

"Voodoo ain't nothing but a bunch of hoodoo, Mrs Croumer," Anon said, continuing to dance. "Anon continues singing, and gets cut off by himself- Whoa SHI-!" Anon slipped as he found his bar of soap had fallen to his feet. A loud THUD sounded as he fell. Anon let out a groan as he lay in the shower. 

"Ha haa! Serves you right boy!" Laughter could be heard clearly. "Serves you RIGHT!"

Anon let out a groan. "Ya know something? I think I'm gonna take a bath." It's times like these Mrs Croumer makes me wonder if Voodoo is real.





Anon finished his bowel of cereal, smacking his lips. "Ah, Wheaties. The breakfast of champions!" He let out a burp and headed to the door, leaving his dishes on the table. He hesitated for a moment, before heading to the kitchen cabinet. He pulled out a bottle of beer and put it in his coat. He headed over to a full sized mirror he made out of broken shards, to make sure he was presentable.

Momma always said a man's gotta look his best. So I might as well check and see. Black suit, check. Red tie, popping with color. Dark brown leather long coat. Check and warm! Brown leather sidebag. Checkiroo! Hat. Hat?

Anon stared at his bald dome of a head. "Ah hell, what I do with my hat?" He scratched his head, before checking his bag. "Oh yeah. I put it there so I wouldn't forget." He took out the hat and planted it firmly. "Much better." Beer bottle in hand, he headed out the door to go about his day.

Anon walked out into the hall of the apartment complex, tiptoeing towards the stairs. He opened his beer, the cap making a slight hiss. "ADAM!" A door slammed open as Anon let out a groan. A somewhat old, bald and fat man in a white shirt and striped trousers stepped into the hall. He had an angry handlebar mustache.

"Oh yes, Mr Landlord?" Anon asked, turning around, holding a now open beer bottle behind him.

"It's Alderman, dammit!" Mr Landlord exclaimed. "Listen here, Oswald Naylor! You are making too much damn noise every damn morning!" He shook his fist in anger. "So either you and that damn negro play nice, or I'll toss you both on the streets!"

A second door loudly creaked open from poor hinges. A black woman in a red dress and a man's ill-fitting dress shirt poked her head out. "You ain't gonna kick me out, Alderman! You do that, and I'll sing to your wife bout how I pay my rent!"

Alderman turned to face Mrs Croumer, his ears turning red. "The hell you mean, you lousy black broad!? I haven't as so much seen your ankles!"

"Oh, I never even said anything bout that Mister!" Mrs Croumer shouted back. "I was meaning cleaning all your clothes thoroughly with your washboard!"

"What in the hell are you talking about? You've never done my laundry!"

"I'm talking about me slobbering on your-"

Anon quickly headed down the stairs as the two argued, making the most of the opportunity. He headed out into the morning air, giving a sigh of relief. He pulled out his bottle of beer, giving a smile. His smile fell as he saw a cop on the street corner, simply staring. The cop made a motion of pouring out the liquid. Anon sighed, and pulled out a mug from his satchel. He poured all the beer into the mug, and dropped the bottle in his bag.

The officer arched a brow. "Whatcha got there, son?" he asked, twirling his baton.

Anon raised his mug to eye level. "Homemade beer in a mug. All drinks taste better in a mug." The officer seemed uncertain, and started reaching for his handcuffs. "The previous batch gave me stomach problems, so this should be the perfected recipe." Anon down the mug with several heavy gulps. "Yup, you're looking at the next biggest distributor of alcohURK!" Anon doubled over. "Actually I think the recipe could be worked on a little more." He stumbled over to a trashcan, knocking off the lid, and began dry heaving.

The officer let out a laugh. "Yup, I bet you'll go far!" He shook his head and started walking down the street. "I'd love to stay and talk, but I gotta walk my beat." He hummed a tune as he walked down the street, simply smiling as Anon heaved.

Anon kept heaving until the officer  was out of sight, before standing up. "Wow. I cannot believe that worked." Anon smiled, before a glint in the trashcan caught his eye. He reached in, pushing aside some spoiled food. His eyes shot open. Simply sitting in the can was a golden crown with a purple gem sitting in it's center. "HOLY-" He slammed his hands over his mouth, glancing around. "HOLY FRICK." 

Anon reached in and carefully grabbed the crown, slowly pulling it out. He stared at it for a moment, taking in its beauty.

A crown made of solid gold, with a six pointed star of amethyst flat in the center. Golden bands held the star in place, with large blue gems along the band. It's beautiful, well crafted. Leaves a warm happy feeling inside. And likely worth an absolute fortune. 

Anon quickly stuffed the crown in his bag, looking around. "Oh my gosh, I'm gonna be so rich!" He started pacing. "Okay, okay, I could go and sell it straight away. But I need someone who'll buy it without trying to see if it belongs to someone..."

"Adam!"

Anon gave a small shriek. He quickly spun around. "Oh hi Mrs Croumer! How are you doing?"

The lady smiled. "I'm doing just fine, honey. But you gotta moved your hinny to that interview, remember?"

Anon smacked his head. "By golly, you're right! I gotta go! See you Mrs Croumer! Tell the Alderman Brothers I'll be back with their rent!" he said, taking off down the street.

"I'm an only child, you moron!" Alderman shouted from a higher up window.

"Then why is food for two entering that apartment? Your wife don't live here!" Mrs Croumer shouted up at Alderman.

"How much I eat Is none of your..." Anon simply let out a hearty laugh as the sound of his friends slowly faded.




*AT THE SAVORY TREAT, JAMESON ST*

Anon walked along the street, heading to a diner with a HELP WANTED sign. He took a moment to admire the street, enjoying the trees lining it, with a library across the street. He entered the shop, walking to the counter. Standing behind it was a tall scrawny man, with the sharpest jaw he had ever seen. Anon couldn't tell if he was a grown man or a teenager. The uniform was somewhat ridiculous, with a pink and yellow Soda Jerk hat and vertically striped shirt. On the bright side, he was wearing plain ol jeans.

"Welcome to the Savory Treat! How sweet can I make your day?" the man asked.

"I'm here for a job interview, actually," Anon explained. "Can I speak with the manager?"

"I'll do you one better!" the man said cheerfully. "Kromet Cake, owner and founder!" He reached forth a  hand, and rigorously shook Anon's. "Just sit in that booth over there, and I'll be right with you!"

Well, Mr Cake seems cheerful. I just hope he's in need of workers, considering how small this place is. If he isn't, then I guess I'll still be good with the crown.

Anon walked over to the corner booth, sliding into the seat. He stared idly out the window, watching as a man on a bike went by. He wasn't the biggest fan of hot summers, but he did love how warm the sun felt. He looked back at Mr Cake, who was setting a young cheerful looking lady with poofy hair at the register, before heading over to the booth. Anon's eyes widened a little as the man seemed to jump into his chair. 

"Right then, I assume you're the one who sent a letter last week?" Mr Cake asked, pulling out a folder. 

"Yessir, that was me," Anon could feel the lady at the register staring at him. Usually he'd feel flattered, but this felt a little intense. 

"Sorry about the lack of a coat rack. We're trying to get things set up, and filling in the gaps as we go along." Mr Cake frowned for a moment. "You have your name written down as Anon?" he asked. Anon started to pull out his ID, his hand brushing across the crown. Mr Cake's eyes glimmered for a moment, before reading a different paper. "Ah, I see. Your full name is Adam Noah Oswald Naylor. My, that's a mouthful." Mr Cake looked up from the paper with a slightly confused expression. "Why not go by Adam Naylor?" he asked.

"Well, my mom decided to name me after every important person in her life. So when she went sleeping, I decided to honor that," Anon explained. "I shortened it so others could honor it too."

"Oh." Mr Cake looked over the papers. "Well, it seems you were fired from multiple jobs for..." He paused, and set down the papers. "Actually, I would like to hear from you. Why were you fired?"

Anon blinked. "Well, I didn't expect this..." He took a few breaths. "I won't bore you with some sob story, or paint myself a victim of misunderstanding. I got fired because I decided to pull some pranks, mess around on work time. I don't do that anymore though, so you don't need to be concerned over that."

Mr Cake slowly nodded. "Ah. Well that's a shame then. We're not looking for people like that." 

Anon groaned, and hung his head. "I understand sir."

"We want some goofballs."

Anon's head rose as he gave Mr Cake a confused look. "Excuse me?"

Mr Cake chuckled. "Here at the Savory Treat, we want people to know this is a place they can relax and have some fun! A strict cashier can't bring smiles after all. So, consider yourself hired!"

Anon stared blankly for a few seconds. "What?"

"Didn't you hear, silly?" Anon jumped as he realized the cashier girl was right next to him. "You got the job!"

"Horse feathers!" Anon flinched away. "When did you get here!?"

"I work here, silly!" the girl said, a wide grin on her face. "I'm Diana! I'll be your coworker soon, so when you come into work tomorrow, I'll teach you all you need to know! Like the ovens, stoves, how to make a fantastic burger, the best way to prepare a cookie sheet, how to defend the secret cake recipe with your life, you to properly clean tables, and more!"

"Actually, I was thinking he'd start next week," Mr Cake explained to Diana, motioning her away. She skipped back and hopped over the counter. Mr Cake turned back to Anon. "You got the look of a guy who gets plenty of boners!"

Anon bounced his head a little. "Yeah, that sounds about right. So what now?"

Mr Cake stoked his chin. "Well, you're not on the nut or anything, right? Good with rent?"

"I got enough clams to clam the feller up," Anon answered.

"Right then, go about your day! Have some fun and all that! Just be sure to show up at 12 in the afternoon next week, and Diana will show you the ropes," Mr Cake said, standing up. 

Anon stood up and shook Mr Cake's hand. "Thank you for this opportunity sir, you will not regret it." He picked up his bag and headed out.

Anon walked down the street with a spring in his step. He was so happy, he decided he would go to Revere Beach, make a day of it. He didn't own a tank suit, but he wasn't really afraid of getting wet.	




Anon whistled as he walked across the sand, watching people splash around. He soon turned his attention to a rather large group of old ladies hassling a group of girls. He frowned, noticing the old women were wearing old fashioned swim suits. "Oh, would you look at that. Another protest from the faithful to be more decent." A grin grew across his face. "Old and slow? This could be fun."

Anon made his way over, listening in onto the conversation. "You miserable hussies!" "You outta be ashamed of yourselves, dressed like that!" "Have you forgotten the path to god?"

Anon walked up to a woman in a large white dress and a parasol, who simply stood watching. "So what are the good christian ladies trying to ban this time?"

"Ah. It is strange, monsieur. I thought Americans were fine with your swimwear? But then these madams came, and seemed to think the clothes were inappropriate for the mademoiselle. It is a bit confusing, as it seems to be very similar to what the boys are wearing." the lady explained with a french accent.

"First time in Boston?" Anon asked.

"First time in America. I understand you have all alcohols banned?"

'Yup. But if you wanna go drinking, first round is on me. Drinks banned in France too?" Anon asked, starting to rummage through his bag.

"Only absinthe. That, and abortion." The lady raised an eyebrow as Anon handed her a rolled up poster.

"What's absanth?" Anon asked, pulling out thin pieces of wire, and two flat pieces of wood.

"I believe its cheaply made alcohol, mass produced. However, it tends to make people go..." She hesitated. 

"Silly?" Anon asked, putting together a frame from the wire. 

"Murderous."

Anon paused, staring up at the lady. "Okay, I see why they banned that in France." He stood up, and reached for the poster. "Wanna have a good laugh?" he asked, unrolling the poster and fitting it into the frame.

"Monsieur, that's a woman in lingerie!" the lady said in surprise.

"Actually," Anon said, planting the frame into the sand. "It's the bathing suit of the future!"

The two groups of women overheard, turning to face Anon.

"What in Gods holy name is that!?" The old women seemed like they couldn't believe what they were seeing.

"Oh, its just Anon," one of the younger women said. "He's all wet, that one."

"Ladies, you got no idea how wet I am." Anon stood straight. "Right then, I imagine you all had very mixed emotions when I presented this art piece. Correct?" The old screamed obscenities as him, while the others nodded. One woman took a picture, whilst others on the beach started noticing. "Make sure to keep the little ones away!" Anon shouted at those starting to approach.

"Right, so this bathing suit is the best swimming technology can offer, and comfortable. The idea is still a one piece, but far more body tight, and made of rubber so the water just slides right off, and you aren't feeling wet and heavy." Anon looked pleased with himself. "And it's still appropriate, right up to the neck! and if that's too revealing..." Anon slapped over a second poster. "A full body design! Reaches the neck, the ankles, the wrists!"

"Huh. Those aren't so bad." The french woman tilted her head as she looked at them.

"This is Anon we're looking at. Just wait for it." The crowd seemed to be anticipating something.

"And if that's too confining, BEHOLD!" He slapped down a third poster. "The two piece!" The old folk let out a screech, bursting into rants. Anon was pretty sure he saw one of them faint. The younger started laughing, and the crowd around let out a gasp.

"Ooh!" The french lady took a closer look. "It shows the stomach well!" She turned to face Anon. "You seem like... how do you say? Quite the character!"

One of the laughing ladies glanced behind her, before sharply turning to Anon. "Anon, you gotta scram! They called the fuzz!"

Anon made no hesitation, ripping out the frame and shoving it into his back, his hand brushing across the crown. He took off running in the sand. The sound of a whistle cut sharply through the air. "Well ladies, I'll see you soon!" he said, kicking up sand as he ran. 

The french woman watched for a moment as the crowd of cops chased after Anon. She narrowed her eyes, lifted the hem of her dress, and took off bounding after Anon. A cop put on the speed, leaning far forward as he jumped to tackle Anon. Mid air, he was rammed to the side by the lady. Anon gave a surprised laugh as he quickly ducked under a swinging baton. A cop rode a bike and rushed out in front of Anon. Anon quickly pushed the cop down and jumped over him like a game of leapfrog. Several cops started to try tackling him in rapid secession. Anon quickly ducked, sidestepped, and danced through the crowd, ending up with him dancing with a cop. He and the cop danced cheerfully for a moment, before the cop frowned and threw a punch at Anon. Anon stumbled back, and rammed his head against the cops, causing both to let out a grunt of pain. The lady quickly grabbed Anon pulling him further down the street. Eventually, the cops lost interest and let the two run off down the distance.

"Good lord, I think Adam's finally found a chick as crazy as he is," one of the cops said, panting heavily. 

Another cricked his neck. "Well, God help us all," he said, nonchalantly. "Drinks are on me, everyone."

"Think she'll make have a few boners like Adam's?" one asked.

"Please! Knowing our luck, those two together will make the biggest boners this city's ever seen!"





Anon and the lady rushed down the street in a mad rush. Anon quickly ducked down an alleyway, dragging the lady with him. The two leaned against the alleyway walls opposite of each other, simply panting for a few moments. After catching his breath, Anon spoke. "What in the goldarn frick is wrong with you?" he asked, laughing.

The lady let out a giggle, standing straight. She extended a hand. "Dames Blanche. And you?"

Anon shook her hand. "Adam. Some call me Anon," he said. "It's a pleasure meeting you, Miss Blosh. But seriously, why? Why help me out?"

"Oh Monsieur Anon, I was thinking to myself, if this man is arrested, I will not see him again. So then I thought, 'Dames, you must go after that man!' And so I went, smashing into the officier!" She slammed her fist into her palm. "And so here I am now, asking if mayhap Monsieur would like to chat, take a moonlit stroll. Maybe even go to your apartment and view some more of your fantastic photography!"

Anon let out a cough. "That's awful forward of you, don't you think?" he asked, looking around bashfully.

"Forward?" Dames asked, confused. Her eyes widened. "Oh no, not like that! I simply found your photos fascinante and I-" She stopped, taking a deep breath. "Allow me to start over."

"By all means!" Anon said, pulling a crate over. It scraped oddly across the ground with a slight dink. He sat down on it quickly.

"*Ahem* You, Monsieur Anon... You are something I can only describe as... Wonderful. Not many seem to know you, but those who do know you as something of chaos. And this life is so dreary, so dreadful. And so when the mademoiselles spoke of you, I could only hope to meet you. And you proved just as exciting as I imagine. To not keep in touch would be a missed opportunity for excitement!" Her face seemed to gleam with excitement. "En plus, je te trouve mignon," she said with a giggle.

Anon stood up and hugged Dames, much to her surprise. "I dare say that's the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me." He released her, before pulling out a piece of paper. "Alright, I'm very busy today. So I'll give you my address. keep in mind, there are two whores living in my apartment complex. But Mr and Mrs Croumer are generally very nice. Try to ignore the Alderman brothers, he's a bluenose." Anon handed Dames the paper. "I'll see you tomorrow, but we should probably keep moving so the cops don't find us." 

"Of course," Dames nodded.

Anon sat down on the box. "I'm just gonna catch my breath a little more. You go on without me."

Dames smiled, and bent down. She gave Anon a kiss on the cheek, before standing back up. "I will visit you tomorrow afternoon. I will bring along my camera." She walked out the alleyway and headed down the street.

Anon watched her go walking away, before shooting up and removing the box lid. His eyes widened as he saw amber liquid in clear jugs. "Is that white lightning?" He opened one, and took a sip. "It's better than white lightning. It's whisky." He noticed a thick leather wallet. He picked it up, revealing dozens of twenty dollar bills.

Anon pulled out his crown. I randomly find you, tossed away. And suddenly, I found a girl as crazy as me, landed a job that wants weird, and found hundreds of dollars and quality whisky in JUGS! I am not selling you, you're my goddaym good luck charm! Anon shoved the crown away, before noticing some instructions written on a piece of paper in the wallet. "What's this?"


Meet in Hockomock. Transport. This is an advance. You'll get the rest when the job is done.


The paper had scribbles, that seemed to be references to the landscape. Anon frowned. He didn't know Hockomock that well, and it was far away. He could either take the money and alcohol, or try his luck and take an even bigger score. He pulled out his crown for a moment. "What do you think?" he asked. "Train to Canton, or money now?"

A faint image of a toy train with bright colors floated through his mind. He nodded, taking a single $20. He copied the map in his notepad, set the wallet back in, and headed off. "With my trusty knife, nothing can go wrong!"
***
**
*

"Okay. To be honest, I don't really know what I was thinking," Anon said as he tromped through the swamp. Night had fallen, making it very difficult to see. The only comfort was a full moon guiding him. Anon frowned, staring at the map. "I mayyyy be lost." Anon felt his feet walk on stone. Flat stone. He stared down, and saw under the water was a stone step. "Oh!" He followed the steps and walked onto a flooded pavilion. 

Anon looked around the area. It was large and spacious, with several stone pillars reaching for the sky, covered up in centuries of vines, moss and leaves. Pavilions dotted it, with an uneasy feeling in the air. A feeling of wrongness. "Wooow. This place is old." He saw an altar in the center, with a briefcase on it. "Huh." Anon slowly walked forward, holding his knife tight. Twas a nice knife. A switchblade he got off some other bootlegger."I guess I got here early. All I gotta do is grab it and run."

Anon approached the altar. The air felt smothered and cold. The closer he got, the stronger a slight breeze grew, sounding like whispers. Anon reached forth and unlatched the briefcase. "Alright, let's have a lookSEE!" A hand reached out and grabbed him by the neck.

Anon was thrown back, sprawling across the stone. He let out a groan, trying to find his assailant. He caught sight of a robed figure. The black robe had red and white along the edges, and in his hand he carried a strange danger. Anon quickly rolled out of the way as the robed man stomped down. "Jesus!" Anon quickly pushed himself up, scrambling to avoid another swipe. He glared, making a quick thrust at the man. The man simply took a step back, the robes gently swaying. Anon swung again. The man moved up and made a strong slice, cutting through Anon's right coat sleeve. Anon quickly yanked his arm back. His eyes widened, seeing it was bleeding. He narrowed his eyes, letting out a growl. He quickly stepped forward, stabbing at the man's right hand. The man stepped left. Anon swiped towards the face. The man leaned back with a quick step. Anon let out a shout, swinging at the man's right, before changing and stabbing at his left. The man blocked with his left arm, a soft tearing sounding softly.

The two quickly backed away from each other. Anon's breath was heavy, while the robed man seemed no worse for the wear, with only a torn sleeve. Anon stared at the tear, before staring at his bleeding right arm. If it was taken out, he'd lose the fight. He looked at the man's arm and raised his left, mimicking how the man held it. A slight chuckle was heard, muffled under the robes. Anon held his arm like a boxer, ready for a swing. He frowned, changing it so it was life he held a shield. No, too awkward. Anon moved it back to Boxer, ready to throw a hook or take a blow. The two nodded at each other, and approached each other slowly.

The two slowly circled each other, gradually getting faster. Anon stepped up, making a quick cut along the sleeve. He grunted as he got a cut in return. Anon stepped back, and the two continued to circle, each watching for an opening. Anon could see how visible he was. How vulnerable. The man's robe acted as cover, hiding just where the man's arms and body were. The man leaped forward with a wide swing. Anon quickly sidestepped him, and ripped off the left sleeve with a strong yank. The two quickly moved away from one another. Anon quickly rushed forward, rapidly and blindly slashing at the man. The man did the same, the two cutting away. Anon quickly stabbed for the man's face, only to be intercepted by his dagger. The two blades slowly ground against each other, each person trying to shove their blade closer to the other. Both let out a grunt, with Anon and the man  punching each other's faces. Both stumbled away, panting heavily.

Anon could feel nothing but the cold air. The wind had picked up, making the area feel as though they had an audience of hundreds of whispering people. Anon stared at his handiwork, and frowned. He tried to cut away the man's robes, to get a better target. But even as the robe was shredded to ribbons, the shadows of night hid him all the same. Anon took a moment to inspect himself. Torn sleeves, bleeding right arm... Anon was pretty sure his left arm shouldn't be bleeding so much. This is bad. This guy knows how to knife fight better than me! Anon knew he either had to call it quits, or end it quick. He stared at the briefcase, and saw the man was standing in front of the altar, blocking it. Anon blinked. He had an idea. Every time I make a large attack, he simply blocks it and moves out of the way. I think I can abuse that. He readjusted his hat, and moved in.

Anon and the robed man slowly approached. Anon saw the man starting to circle, and moved the other way, forcing him into a straight line. Anon tensed his arm, making obvious that he would swing. He saw the man's arm tense for the attack. Anon quickly threw his head, causing his hat to fly at the man. He caught it with his left. The man's arm was out of the way. Anon followed up with throwing his knife. Wouldn't even do any damage, but enough to distract. The man's arm swung wildly to block it. Anon rammed into the man, having closed the distance. He carried the man and slammed him into the stone altar, knocking the breath out of the man. The wind seemed to roar. He kicked at the man's leg, causing the robed figure to slide down. The man fought back, trying to stand. Anon grabbed the robes and bunched them tightly, pinning the man's arms somewhat. He stomped on the man's leg, before slamming him against the altar again. He slammed his knee against the man's chin, before punching rapidly. The man dropped his dagger. Anon snapped it up, screaming as he slashed away at the man, stabbing with wild abandon. Eventually, Anon realized the man was dead.

Anon slowly got up, panting heavily. The wind had quieted, or maybe he couldn't hear it over the sound of his heart going a thousand miles a minute. He grinned, before letting out a hearty laugh. "Oh HELL yeah!" he shouted, pumping a fist in the air. He shoved the body to the side, and flipped the latches to the briefcase. He opened it. Inside sat a large crystal orb. It was pitch black, with a slight green glow. "A gem? I was expecting cash!" Anon shrugged, picking up the item to examine it in the moonlight.

Pain. Why is there so much pain? The moment Anon touched the orb, he started screaming. An inky blackness sprung from the orb, covering and wrapping around his hand like a demented spider. He seemed to be moving a thousand miles, wind howling and swirling around him. He saw the sky burning, and castles exploded. He saw a machine like a giant bird roaring as it took off to the skies. Men in robes of all colors hacking away at a slaughtered lamb. He could see the heavily armed bootleggers just a few miles north, waiting for their business partners. He saw the box of cash being delivered by a black man named Charles. I saw thousands of things. Too fast. Too quickly. Past, present, and a horrible yet wonderful future, with all things growing dark. A colossal beast of green, praising something far more terrible than itself. A man dressed in yellow, holding a star in his hands. A lady of black, leading a bloody revolution. But worst of all, I could feel it. An inky blackness flowing through my veins, like a parasite. Worming inside of me, trying to reach everywhere. Please. Help. Anyone. Anything. I- I can hear something! I could hear something calling. Something massive. Something maddening. Something wrong...  And yet, he heard something else. Like a kind whisper, or the scent of warm freshly baked cookies. He reached for it. Closer. Closer. Reaching out with his fingers...

Anon's hand wrapped around the crown. The effects were nearly instantaneous. Rainbows burst from the crown, flaking away the darkness. It seeped into him like a mothers warm embrace, delicately removing the parasite like a splinter. New visions filled his head, combating those of madness. Visions of brightly colored ponies. Of drakes wrestling in lava. He could see the stars move to the whim of something kind, yet powerful. But underneath it all, he could see something foul. The same inky darkness, waiting to rise. Trying to bubble over. To drown everything in a sea of black. He saw six ponies rise up, and a pony of Shadows, standing above many pillars. A bright white slowly overtook everything, with a calming sensation, cut short by a single thought. Twitchy Tail.

Anon frowned. Twitchy wha? He let out a shriek as his leg narrowly avoided an ax slamming into the ground. He leaped backwards over the altar, swinging the dagger wildly. A roar came out of his assailant,  a giant of a man wearing tattered robes far too small for his frame. "Hey, I thought I killed you, you jerkwad!" His ear itched. Anon quickly jumped over the swing of the ax, running between the man's legs to escape. His swung the dagger, cutting the man's leg clean off. Anon rushed over to his hat and knife, returning them to their rightful place. "So sorry to do that to you, but I gotta..." His chipper tone faded as the man turned around, a red mold forming a new foot. "Well blow me down." Anon took off sprinting. He could still hear the whispers. Could still see all of those wonderful things. He shook his head. 

"Adam? What are you doing?" Anon swung his blade to the left, finding no one there. "Aren't you hungry?" He swung right. "Adam. I think maybe you might want to stop. Take a breather." Anon couldn't tell if the voice was his, or someone else. All he knew was he was close. Just a little farther.

Anon ran into a clearing full of armed men. He found he was panting heavily. "I- I I need help. There's a serial killer who fucking dragged me out here!" he said, desperation thick in his voice. "Look at what he did to my arm!" Multiple flashlights shone in Anon's face, keeping him from seeing properly. He could make out multiple cars, and a dozen silhouettes of men. 

"Put those lights away," a voice called out. A man in a suit with a thick mustache approached Anon. "Well, you certainly look like shit," he said, looking Anon up and down. "What's in the briefcase, son?"

"Severed fingers, sir. I gotta get these to the police so they can confirm that bastards victims, and they'll have cops swarming all over..." Anon trailed off, looking at cases of beer. "I guess there are some details I can omit," he said.

The man nodded, before pulling out a gun. "Yeah, go with the lesser evil, and all that bull." He examined his weapon, before pointing it at Anon. "But you can't bullshit a bullshitter."

Tingling spine. "Oh, I know that very well sir." Anon rushed and tackled the man, as an ax went flying over them, slamming into a car with enough force to knock it over. "But I wasn't bullshitting about the killer." An arrow shot threw a thugs head. Everyone rushed into action as a whole volley of arrows was unleashed. Anon let out a yelp, rushing to hide behind a crate. "Okay I swear by the good book, there was only one guy!" A multitude of robed people moved in, swinging machetes and wielding bows.

Anon could feel the hair on his neck stand. And from the looks of it, so could the boss man. "What the hell is that?" he asked, picking up his gun. That's when they heard it. The sound could only be described like a tear of paper. If paper was capable of screaming out in absolute agony. Fire burned in the sky as the sound of screams and battle grew louder. Anon slowly looked up, as he saw a pale man in a red suit slowly float down. He had no eyes. Nor any eye holes. His mouth however... His mouth was open wide, covering half of his face like an inky black void with teeth sticking out like rocks on the reefs.

"You." His words cut through the noise like a razor blade. He pointed a single finger at Anon. "You have something that belongs to me." Those around Anon seemed frozen, eyes glazed over. 

"Fuck off, fag!" Anon shouted, giving the finger.

"The hell kinda slang is that?" Boss man asked, aiming his gun upwards. Anon's crude words seemed to have knocked him out of his trance. Multiple shots fired from various people, causing the Red man to hiss.

"No idea. Learned it when visions of the future were shown to me. My particular favorite moments were 'How to speak Incel',"

Black water formed around the Red man, flowing around him like it was alive. A part of it suddenly shot out. Boss man jumped out of the way of the strange beam of water. It struck one of his men, who shriveled up like a mummy. A ball of blood formed beside them, before shooting towards the Red Man. "Focus. How do we kill this bitch?" Boss man asked, shooting at a cultist that came too close for comfort.

"First off, you asked. Second, got any explosives?"

"Explosives?" Boss man said, dragging Anon out of the way of a thrown blade. "Yeah, we got a whole box." He opened a crate, bulling out an automatic pistol. "It's in the Oilfield." He pointed at a very large and bulky car.

"Alright, just keep that guy distracted until I give the signal. The signal will be me calling that fucker out," Anon said, quickly rushing away.

"You better know what you're doing!" Boss man called after him. He aimed his gun at the Red Man. "Every gun that ain't busy, blast that fuck!" he shouted, firing.

Anon moved quickly from cover to cover, trying to keep his head down. He frowned, seeing a red mist slowly fill in the area. He knew he would have to get this done fast. Anon made his way to the back of the Oldfield, throwing open the trunk. "Jackpot." A car crushed the truck, sending Anon scrawling back. "What the hell!?" Jagged and broken metal now covered the whole truck, keeping Anon from the dynamite. He saw a hole in the side of the trunk, covered with jagged metal.

A black man in a red trenchcoat stood nearby, red mist pouring from his coat. Sunglasses covered his eyes as he shook one of the bootleggers. "WHERE IS THAT TRANS BITCH!?" he roared, ripping off the man's arm. 

"Ah, fuck." Anon looked at his torn sleeves and groaned. He tried to put his hand through the whole, and growled as he saw it was too small. A light bulb shone above his head, giving a moment of brief light. He climbed on the wreck of the second car and quickly searched for any tools. He glanced back at a curious sight.

Cultists had suddenly stopped fighting the bootleggers, and were trying to kill the man in the red trench coat. The one floating in the sky slowly descended, a look of rage directed towards the strange newcomer. "Baskerville Random. I trust you have a good reason for stepping into my domain?" he asked, his voice dripping with ice.

"The parasite's moved, Chance," Baskerville growled. "Oh sorry, or should I be calling you Random chance? It's not like you actually check up on the big man."

"Tell me what parasite, then go bugger off somewhere," Chance said, looking sternly. His cultists turned their attention back to the bootleggers.

"HA! I KNEW IT! If you actually let me in , I could have filled you in on-" His ears morphed into horse ears, twitching rapidly. They turned towards the sound of rending metal. He slowly turned, staring dead at Anon, who was widening the hole the dynamite was in. Shit. He grinned, massive flat teeth shining in the firelight. Shit shit shit!

Anon tossed aside his crowbar, quickly shoving his hand in the hole. "Wait a minute. That's the thief," Chance said. A beam of watery ink slammed around an invisible barrier around Anon. A rainbow slightly shimmered in the air.

Anon's fingers brushed against a stick. He narrowed his eyes. Just... a little... more... "Well you know what they say. If brains don't work, use brawn!" Baskerville tore off a car door and ripped it in half.  He held up the door, admiring its new jagged edge. He started rushing towards Anon, a wild grin across his face. "Come here, slut!"

"Hey gongoozler! Another step closer and I'll break this weird black orb!" Anon shouted, picking up a gun and holding it to the orb. Baskerville screeched to a halt, a furious expression across his face. He turned back to look at Chance, as if asking what to do.

Random Chance said nothing, opening his mouth wide. Black solid tendrils poured out and slammed into the ground, propelling forward as he let out an ungodly screech. Baskerville laughed, rushing alongside him. 

Anon shoved the orb through the hole. Twitchy tail. Anon leaped to the side, narrowly avoiding the jagged door cutting off his head. He rolled along the ground, falling prone. "Holy hell!" He turned and saw the two were right on him. Anon raised the gun, taking aim. "Witness your greatest boner, you boob! For I have the bulge!" He pulled the trigger.

Rarely have I ever thought of death. I always heard your whole life flashes before your eyes. Right now, I'm just seeing eternity. I won't lie, I had a good run. Made some friends, killed some enemies... Mainly pissed people off. Do I any regrets?... Nah. Oh, I can actually feel the heat of- Anon saw a blinding flash, before feeling himself yanked into a swirling void. He flailed his arms wildly, before feeling himself grabbed by Chance.

"YOU FOOL!" Random Chance's flesh was flaking away, leaving a trail in the air as they pummeled through the screaming nothing. "YOU THINK YOU CAN JUST RUN!?" He hit Anon with a clawed hand that shattered on impact. He let out a wailing sob like a room full of morning people. "I LEAVE YOU WITH A CURSE! MAY YOU HUNGER FOR THE FLESH OF YOUR OWN!" he hissed, his voice sending like hundreds. "No. No I won't leave you with a curse. I'LL LEAVE YOU DEAD!" He pulled out a dagger with his other hand, only for Anon to be tugged away into a cloud of red.

"Hello whore." A fist slammed into Anon's face.

"Breeze off before you get bumped off!" Anon shouted, swinging a fist. A brown hand latched on, as a white hand latched on his leg. "Ah horse feathers."

"Tell you what slut. You love riding so much, I'll give you the perfect new form." Baskerville said, tugged Anon towards him.

"Leave me alone! You got the wrong man!" Anon shouted, trying to pull away. A strong pull tugged him downwards, making Anon give out a shout of pain.

"I'll drain every last drop of blood from your worthless vessel!" Chance said, tugging Anon down. "Let go of him!" he shouted at Baskerville.

"No, you let go of him!" Baskerville shouted back. The two tugged back and forth, hissing and howling at each other, before a white hand yanked Anon away, dragging him into an orange mist. "You ass, he was mine!"

Chance stared after him. "That wasn't me, brother." he said, holding out his hand. A black mist formed around it. "That's a new thief."



 

Something snapped. I... I don't know what happened, but it feels like... Like you have an elastic cord. Or a taunt tether holding you up. And two trucks are attached at each end. The trucks are pulling this cord. It's pulled until both cars are creaming, and the cord is stretched far more than it was ever intended to be pulled. Then suddenly, it snaps. It snaps both ends just go hurtling away from each other.

Anon let out a groan, slowly standing up. He let out a shout, falling back down. "Ow..." Anon laid on his back, staring up at a dirt ceiling. He frowned, slowly sitting up. "Wha- my legs!" Anon's eyes shot open. "My voice! Why do I sound like a kid!?" My legs are green! And furry! Why do I have furry green legs? Why do I sound- Where is my dick? Anon slowly reached down in disbelief, halting upon seeing a lack of hands. "Am... Am I a filly!?" Anon looked around, for anything reflective.

Anon slowly rose on four legs, wobbling slightly. She took a moment to examine her surroundings. She was in a dirt cell, that was dimly light by a torch across the hall. There was a bedroll on the ground, and a bucket of dirty water. Anon wasn't certain if it was to drink from, or do business in with how dirty it was. Anon took a step forward, and fell on her face. "Ow."

Anon let out a sigh. "Well, I might not know what's going on... But I guess I'm stuck for the ride." Anon frowned. "Oh that boob!" she said, coming to a realization. "That guy in the coat mistook me for a Dicker man, and turned me into a whorse!" Anon chuckled. "I guess from demon humor, that is actually kinda funny." Anon slowly stood back up. "Well, I guess I better try walking. Nothing else to do right now." Anon took a careful step forward. "I guess I'll be late for that date."





Anon let out a cough, his eyes staring up at a ceiling of branches and stars. He slowly rose to his feet. He saw the bodies of both cultists and bootleggers alike. Anon slowly stumbled towards a case of whisky, picking it up. He set it in a car, and noticed a man pointing a gun at him. He raised his own gun, the two simply staring at each other for a minute. The man on the ground dropped his gun with a grunt. Anon slowly lowered his gun, putting it in his coat pocket. He saw a brown leather bag, with cash poking out of it. He picked it up and put it in the passenger seat. He started the car, staring for a moment at his crown, before driving off into the dark.

Diana woke with a start, her pink night cap's cotton ball bouncing. "I didn't even start working on a 'Welcome to Work in just a Week, New Guy!' party!" she said, horrified. "I outta check up on him and ask what kinda cake he likes." With that, she plopped back down, the bounce of her weight somehow causing her blankets to land back over her.
*
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CHAPTER @ IS DONE! Good blimey I did not expect this chapter to be so long. I was trying for 3000.
Questions? Concerns? Thoughts and opinions on ANYTHING and EVERYTHING? PLEASE let me know. This is my first time making such a story, so feedback and criticism is very welcome.
> 3, Mines of Mirth and Madness
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Anon trotted in a figure eight in her cell, happily keeping balance. "I knew I had a knack for this!" 
In all honesty, I don't really know what to make of the situation. I went off and blew myself up for no good reason, and now I'm a pony. At least I think I'm a pony. I got stumpy legs after all.  

Anon stumbled, slamming into the dirt wall. She felt herself falling, and threw her weight to the side, nearly slamming into the cell door, before shakily standing upright. Her eyes quickly glanced around the cell. "I hope no one saw that." Anon sat down. "What the heck am I talking about? No ones even visited my cell for FIVE HOURS!" She shouted out the bars, furrowing her brow. 

"Well I saw it." Anon tried to quickly turn, hitting the cell doors as she fell over. "I saw that too." 

Floating in the air was a white pony dressed in a clown outfit. The outfit was white with orange polka dots , with orange frills at the end of each leg and around the neck. and a white party hat with an orange fuzz ball atop.  His eyes were missing, with two gaping bloody wounds. "Hello!" He waved cheerfully. "I'm Jump Up Random!"

Anon glared as she bit the bars, trying to pull herself up. She shakily stood, leaning against the bars for support. "Do I even want to know what you want with me?" she asked.

Jump Up rubbed his chin. "Well... Actually I'm here to make sure you have a fun time. Any questions?" he asked, falling with a plop on Anon's cot.

Anon fell to her side, and slowly got back up. "Yeah, I got a question. Have I lost my mind or something?" She threw herself down again, practicing.

Jump Up hummed to himself. "Well I suuupooooose you may have lost some of your mind," he said, rolling his neck as he stretched his words.  "I mean, you're probably hallucinating from entering a swamp and breathing swamp gas. That's a thing, right?"

Anon nodded. "Yeah that's a thing. I don't think that's what happened, but that's a thing."

Jump Up rubbed his chin in thought. "Well, I have an idea. Call it a mental performance." He floated off the cot and towards Anon. "Alright, close your eyes." Anon arched an eyebrow, but did so anyway. "Alright, now think back to the orb. Do you remember it breaking?" Anon started to nod. "Ah ah! Don't move, just think. Think of when it broke. What you saw at that very moment."

I remember the moment well. I pulled the trigger on the gun, and darkness... No. No, wait a minute. I know it was a blinding light. I know it was because of all the explosives. Then why is there darkness in my memory?  Anon tried harder to remember that event. I got in the car and- No, I took the train. Anon's nose wrinkled in confused.

"Strange. I thought something might have happened," Jump Up said, peering at Anon. "Uhh... Oh! Instead of just focusing on the moment, let your mind wander while thinking. I can't actually read your mind, so I can only guide you a little."

Anon opened one eye. "You never said you could read my mind at all."

A hoof gently closed Anon's eye. "Shush and just do it."

Anon grunted, before thinking back. Alright, let's go with the 'Not my' memories. I was at a bar and got drunk. Anon could hear dishes clanking and people idly chatting in the background. I drove a car, and arrived at a hotel... No. an apartment building. 

Anon looked up at the red building, before glancing around at nearby cars. "Why does this feel real?" He jumped as the building exploded into fire. Two burnt corpses slammed into the pavement. A gun loaded with a cross landed near his feet. Anon quickly picked it up as a familiar man started floating down. "Baskerville."

"I'm going to enjoy-" Baskerville didn't get to finish his words as Anon simply aimed and fired. He exploded in a flash of bright light.

Anon tilted his head. "Alright, bright flash and a roaring fire. What's the darkness?" 

Crack. The sound of a bone snapping into place boomed through the noise of a roaring fire. Anon turned, watching as one of the burnt bodies picked itself up, the bones cracking as it shoved its body into shape. The fires burned brightly, yet the man held an aura that smothered everything else. Anon felt his heart pounding as his breath quickened. "Who the hell are you?"

The man walked closer, his head shrouded in a haze. Each step closer, the more Anon feared for his life. The man put a hand on Anon's shoulder. "Don't you recognize me?"




Anon jolted up from her bed. Sweat dripped from her body, despite how cold she felt. She could still hear the crackling of flames, and the giggling. Giggling? Anon saw Random giggling as he rolled through the air.

"Oh goodness! I was expecting that reaction, but it's still just as funny!" Jump Up seemed beside himself. He suddenly rushed towards Anon, bumping noses with her. Anon jerked back. "Can you hear the voices yet?" he whispered cheerfully.

Anon could feel herself shaking. "I- I don't want to hear the voices," she said shakily.

This only seemed to make the eyeless creature giggle harder. "Heh heh Ha Ha Ha!" 

Anon let out a whimper. She curled up and covered her ears. The laughing felt as though it was trying to worm inside of her.

Random stopped his laughs. He poked Anon. "Hey, don't worry. I wouldn't hurt you unless you wanted me to!"

"I- Why do you feel so wrong?" Anon asked. She poked her head up. "Why do I feel so wrong."

"That a question or a statement?" Random asked. "Eh, I'm just messing with ya. I'm the diet version of wrongness." He floated above Anon. "See, I am Random. And what a Random loves most is fun! Oh, and destruction. But me personally?" He yanked Anon's face up.

Random's face seemed to have transformed. His eyes poured blood, and his mouth was full of massive jagged broken teeth. His clothes were stained brown, red and yellow, a horrible stench floating off of him. "I want to make your life a living nightmare. I want you to wake up screaming in the night. I want you to regret your actions, to feel remorse unlike anything you've ever felt." His breath reeked of blood as he held Anon up by the face.

Anon let out a shout, grabbing Random's hooves. She pulled the hooves away from her face, dangling by them. She quickly pulled herself up, slamming her head against Random's nose. A sickening snap sounded as both dropped to the ground. "Enough, you jerk!" she growled, quickly rolling onto her feet.

Random slowly got to his feet, his clothes clean once more. An orange and white striped blindfold covered his eyes. "However," he said, his teeth flat once more, "I much prefer it to be funny and entertaining for the both of us, rather than a painful torturous experience." He trotted up to Anon, who simply glared. "Before I go, I have a little gift for you, that I think will be helpful."

"Yeah? Wha-" Jump Up interrupted Anon by grabbing Anon's face and giving her a kiss. "Mmwa!" With a pop, he disappeared.

Anon sat in shock, before feeling something slide down her throat. What the frick? WHAT THE FRICK? Anon quickly tried to cough it up, to no avail. A cold feeling settled in her gut. She looked at her stomach in panic, before giving it a poke. Her stomach gurgled, before cramping. "Hurk!" Anon could feel the cold suddenly becoming a boiling heat, rushing up. She fell to the floor, vomiting a mixture of red blood and a strange white fluid.

Anon panted on the ground, feeling empty and wrong. Anon grunted. I'll sock that boob next time I see him, figment of my madness or not! The anger helped Anon feel better, but she still felt like horseshit.

Anon's ears flicked as she heard footsteps. FOOTSTEPS? Anon yanked herself from the ground, trying to wipe the vomit off. She quickly rushed to the cot and grabbed the bedsheet. Or rather she tried, and failed. How do I grab with these things!? No wait! How do I want to present myself? I show up a pony, with memories of a pony world. So should I be happy and peppy, or sad and mopey? No wait, why is a filly even in a dirt prison?

CLANG

"Boo!" A brown mangy diamond dog jumped out, hitting the bars with his heavy paws. Anon jumped and landed heavily on her legs. "AH HA HA! Little pony should have seen her face! Hilarious!" He slapped his leg, roaring in laughter.

"Oh ha ha, very mature." Anon said, rolling her eyes. Afraid or not, Anon was not in the mood. She huffed, glaring at the dog. But something tickled the back of her head. This mutt. He's Spot, runt of the Diamond Dog trio. But why does he feel off?

Spot frowned, hearing the disrespectful tone. He gave a toothy grin, leaning close to the bars. "Spot has a question. Is tiny pony hungry?" he asked sweetly.

At the idea of food, Anon's empty stomach growled. "Maybe..." she said, glancing away. It growled even louder. "Yes," she admitted, embarrassed. Maybe I'm just hangry.

"Well, Spot has got just the thing." Spot pulled out a key from his vest, unlocking the cell door. "Stand back," he briefly instructed. He reached behind himself and grabbed a large heavy burlap sack. It landed with a heavy thump as he tossed it in. "Tiny pony won't get anymore food until she's finished up every last bite." He slammed the door shut, locked it, and walked down the hall, chuckling to himself.

Anon watched him walk down the hall, before turning to the sack. She sniffed and wrinkled her nose. It smelled somewhat spoiled, yet sweet? She trotted over to the sack. "Alrighty, what have we got? Spoiled carrots? A rotten toma-" Anon's eyes shot wide open as she opened the sack. She let out a shriek, rearing back and falling over. 

A bloodied hoof flopped out of the back, covered in blood and dust. Anon slowly walked over and pulled off the sack. "Oh that's the real McCoy. Oh geez." The body seemed fresh. A slight smell, but no boils, no- Actually, Anon wasn't certain what happens to a horse's body after death. But from the floppy arm, it couldn't be that long dead. Although she wasn't sure it should be that floppy.

Anon took a deep breath to steady herself. "Okay, when I arrived in the world of Equestria, I thought I could muck around like a jackass! Take a vacation here or the mental institute, whichever it is. I didn't realize I was in a horror story!" Anon still couldn't tell what was wrong with this place. All she knew was it was not the world the crown showed her. "I didn't realize they would force a kid to eat a dead, delicious body..." Anon wiped drool from her mouth as her stomach growled again.

Drool? Anon stared down at the corpse as her stomach gnawed at her. "Ohh... The curse Random gave me. Well jokes on him, I'm not born a pony, so this is just meat!" Anon sat down next to the body, lifting an arm. She stared at it for a moment, before chomping down. "Bleh! Ptoo!" Anon spat out hair, dust and blood. The bleed tasted sweet, but the rest definitely ruined the taste. "Ugh, how do animals do this without any hands?" Anon thought about it for a moment. Don't lion cubs eat the rear first cause it's softer? Anon stared at the pony's cutie mark, a set of aces. "Well I guess I'm eating ass."

Anon bit done on the rump and slowly tore open the skin. She pulled back a strip, peeling the skin from the muscle. She started drooling again as she stared down at the red, bloody meat. She paused for a moment, before biting down into the flesh. Her eyes dilated as the sweet yet bitter taste of meat and blood filled her mouth. With a reckless abandon, she started tearing into the rear, ripping chunks and eagerly swallowing them. She rested her forehooves on the body as she ate, humming contently. With every bite, she felt better. Less hollow.




Rover, a tall and long gray dog, stood at a desk looking over multiple papers. A set of spiked armor sat on a nearby rack. "Food rations down... fifteen percent. We got some left. Meat is... Almost gone. Two days left. Moral will be low. We did gain that massive haul. Stupid whiny pony took it. Serves Rover right, I guess." The gray dog let out a grunt. "Found multiple raider ponies. Killed them and took their slaves." He picked up a picture of a glamorous white pony with purple hair. "Should free the slaves, or she'll whine our ears off again." His ears flicked as he heard a faint shriek, followed by laughter. "Meat of Raiders can be used. Need to give the dead slaves to the pony grave keepers."

'Wait, a shriek?' Rover set down the picture and walked down the hall, a scowl already forming on his face. He noticed a rations closet with the door open and smelled his right hand men. He halted and listened in on their conversation.





Spot giggled to himself as he searched through the rations. Fido, a large hulking gray beast, glanced down at his friend. "What has Spot laughing?" he grunted, inspecting a loaf of bread. "You better not be goofing off. Rover wants the filly fed!"

Spot grinned, turning to his friend. "Spot's about to do that," he said, opening a sack. "Spot played a little prank on tiny pony. You remember the body we found in the collapsed mines?"

Fido slowly nodded. "Fido remembers."

Spot chuckled to himself. "Well, Spot was carrying body in a bag. Heard some noise and checked up on tiny pony. Spot goes BOO! But tiny pony gives sass. So Spot plays another trick." Fido's eyes narrowed, but he didn't interrupt. "Tiny little pony gets hungry, but is still snippy. So Spot tosses in the bag and tells her she won't get more to eat, until every bite is eaten!" Spot began snorting. "Spot leaves, waits, and screaming!"

Spot and Fido stared at each for a few moments, before both burst out laughing.

"The filly must have fainted!" Fido let out a booming laugh. "Open bag for dinner, and bam!" 

The two continued laughing as Rover joined in, chuckling. He walked over, slinging his arms around them, before smashing their skulls together. "You two knuckleheads get back to work!" he growled. "And you!" He barked at Spot. "Get that body out of there before the foal gets sick! We do NOT need any more scoldings from the Lady." Rover smacked Spot on the head, and turned to Fido. Fido flinched as Rover set his paw on his head. He opened an eye as he received scritches. Rover then smacked him as well.

"Ow." Fido rubbed his head as Rover stomped out, muttering under his breath. Fido looked down at Spot. "Well, better remove the body!" he said, gently picking up Spot and plopping him out the door. "We'll talk later," Rover picked up Spot's sack, and shoved a head of lettuce, two carrots, and a tomato in the bag. He handed to bag to Spot, and patted him on the head. 

Spot took the bag. "Spot will toss the body in Ghastly Gorge, or something." He headed back up the hall, chuckling to himself. 

Spot whistled a random tune as he approached the cells, so she filly would be aware of him. "Oh little pony!" he sang in a rough sweet tone. "Spot has food for pony to munch on. Unless  she didn't finish her first meal yet," His ears flicked as he heard grunting and chewing. 'Chewing?' He slowed as he drew closer. 'What could she be chewing on?' His eyes shot open as he realized. Spot dropped the sack as he rushed towards the cell, fumbling with his pockets for the cell key. "Pony stop! You don't have to eat-" His jaw dropped as he saw the filly happily chewing on a leg.

Anon ripped up a strip of meat, holding it down on the pony's side to rip into smaller pieces. Her ears flicked as she distantly heard shouting. Things slowly came back into focus as she looked up at the horrified Diamond Dog. I could see my reflection in his eyes, showing a disgusting and rabid filly. I felt shame overwhelming me. Hungry or not, I gave into something greatly primal and wicked, without even a moments hesitation. What would have happened if I encountered another child? Or even a pony baby!?

"I- I'm sorry." Anon's ears flopped down as she yanked herself away from the body. "I was hungry!"

Spot slowly nodded, took two steps to leave, and fainted.
*
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CHAPTER # is finished! I wrapped up with a far shorter, but still long chapter.
Questions? Concerns? Thoughts and opinions on ANYTHING and EVERYTHING? PLEASE let me know.
I know some of you are new, and others are from the old story. I would love to hear what you think of this story.
> 4, A Taste of Truth
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Diana let out a snort, her eyes snapping open. "Oh goodness, 3 AM!" She rolled out of bed, her hair bouncing wildly. She reached under her bed and patted a small Alligator. She stood up, gripping her nightgown by the chest. With a single yank, she pulled it off, revealing her work uniform beneath. 

Diana skipped to the door, before halting. "Wait, 3 AM? Weird things happen at 3 AM! Why am I going out?"

Gummy blinked slowly.

"I suppose you're right..." Diana said, scraping her foot along the ground. "But wouldn't that put me in danger?"

Gummy licked his lips.

Diana nodded, seemingly inspired by Gummy's choice of words. "You know what? You're right. Anon needs me, and I'll be darned if I don't help a friend stuck behind an eight ball!"

Gummy let out a slight hiss.

"Dancing in the wind? I thought he's in trouble with some street gangs, not an opera house," Pinkie said, confused. She shook her head. "Eh, I'm sure this'll be easy as duck soup!"

Gummy let out another hiss.

"Off the track?" Diana asked. "Gummy,  you're starting to make me concerned. And I can't be the bees knees if my knees are shaking!" She let out a giggle. "Bye Gummy. I'll be back soon." Diana headed out of her room, flicking off the lights.

Gummy sat in the dark for a moment, before making his way to the window. "So much to do, and so little time," he muttered. He stopped, looking around. He searched the darkness for a moment, before climbing up the window sill. "So much to do..."





Luna opened her eyes, a look of concern growing across her face. She sat up, simply staring at a wall for a moment. Eventually, she considered her head too full of thoughts to handle alone. "I think I shall join Celestia for..." She got up and walked to a set of lush blue curtains. She opened them and winced at the sudden brightness of light. "Lunch."

Luna closed the curtains and moved to a bedstand. She opened it's drawers and started rummaging through it. "Where is the smoked glass?" she muttered, letting out a yawn. "Ah, here it is." Luna put on the shades and walked to her closet. "What should I wear?" She pondered for a moment, before grabbing a bathrobe. "I ought to be comforta-" She let out a heavy yawn, smacking her lips. "Comfortable."

Luna poked her head out of her room. The guard outside blinked in mild surprise. "Mistress," he said with a nod.

"We thought guards weren't so casual. No matter, impostor or not. We have a mission for thee. Drag mine sister out of the day court. I want to have lunch with her, so do what thou must, even unto literally dragging her out. Now go, it's an order from the mistress of darkness." She shut the door.

The guard stood for a moment, before heading off down the hall. Orders were orders, and he was ordered by the Priestess to obey the Mistress's every command. He made his way to the court room, being halted by the two who guarded the doors.

"Halt. What business have you?" the Court guard asked.

"The Mistress has instructed me to make certain The High Priestess make time for lunch straight away, even to have me dragging her out in a literal fashion." The guard knew his orders, and he would fulfill them.

"You would suggest laying your hooves upon The High Priestess?" the other Court guard asked, raising a spear.

"The High Priestess says for me to obey the Mistress's every command. And this is what the Mistress commands. Whether I desire to or not is not important," the guard explained.

The Court guards nodded, and opened the doors. The guard stepped through, moving past the petitioners. "Your holiness! I have an urgent message from the Mistress of Darkness!"

Celestia turned her attention to the guard, her eyes showing concern. "What is it my sister desires?" she asked.

"She demands to have lunch with you immediately. I am to fulfill this desire by any means necessary," the guard exclaimed.

"Lunch? Oh. I'll be done with court in an hour," Celestia explained, turning back to the noble. "You said that wolves were-"

"I apologize, your holiness. But the Mistress desires your immediate attention by any means necessary, to her demand of dragging you out physically."

A gasp went across the room as the guard marched up to Celestia. She giggled, and stood up. Her golden robes flowed gracefully around her, shimmering in the sunlight from the grand windows. "And that is how I know you are perfect. I assigned you to obey her every command, and you fulfill without question." She kissed the guard on his forehead, a slight glow covering him. "I will go. And have my blessing to spend the day however you please," she said.

"Thank you, your Holiness." The guard bowed, and left. Celestia smiled, walking out of the Court room. She wondered what Luna had in mind.





Celestia sat at the dinner table, silver cutlery set out, with roasted carrots, rice and a slice of cake set out before her. Her sister's plate had a stack of tuna sandwiches with cheese. Not the greatest food, but also not the worst. She smiled as she looked at her plate, the chef having burnt in delicate designs of art. She frowned, seeing how Luna's sandwich looked as though it had been squished. "After almost a year, one might think they would view her better."

The dining room's doors were kicked open rudely, snapping Celestia out of her thoughts. Luna approached, dressed in a white fluffy spa robe and her massive Witch hat, crooked and bent. She had on sunglasses.

"Sister! It is good to see you!" Luna said, sitting on the stool set out for her. She sniffed the sandwich loudly. "Oh, you can smell the hate!" She picked it up and took a bite, growling. "Huh. Less hate then usual." She lowered her shades slightly, looking at Celestia. "I think the cook is starting to warm up to me," she grumbled.

"Hello Luna," Celestia said, levitating a knife and fork. "How was your sleep?"

Luna shoved a sandwich in her mouth. "Pwety good. Sorta," she said, crumbs falling out of her mouth. She swallowed. "Actually, that's what I want to speak of. I had..." She paused, tilting her head side to side. "An unusual vision of sorts."

"Oh? Do tell?" Celestia asked as she poured tea for herself, and a glass of milk for Luna.

Luna looked out the window for a moment. "It was... A silly dream. One like Equestria, but different." she said. "You and I were Princess's there."

"Us? Royalty?" Celestia gave a curt laugh. "Ha!"

"We might as well be, seeing how half the masses think you are a god, and me a demon," Luna said.

"No one thinks me a god," Celestia said, taking a sip. "Right?"

"What was stranger still was the technology. Fundamentals of magic. Doubles of the oddest sort. But most of all, was how real it felt." She ate a second sandwich, before continuing. "There was a mirror with the same world on the other side, but the other side was destroyed, with the mirror going black. And something about a crown of Harmony."

"And this was all a dream? Or a vision?" Celestia asked, eating her rice.

"I would say a mix of both. But what I remember in the clearest detail was this. In that realm, you were a cake addict with the biggest arse I've ever seen." Luna chuckled as Celestia began coughing.

"I beg your pardon!?" Celestia asked.

"I even drew a diagram!" Luna pulled a poster out of her robe. "See?" She unrolled it, showing a very crude and stick like drawing. The picture of the cake was realistic, however. "Cake goes in here, and the flanks grow fatter!" she said. "Hey, remember that time you got fat?"

Celestia controlled her coughing fit. "Yes, I remember! Fat doesn't go to my hips, but my legs and belly!"

"Yes!" Luna said. "And you had gotten so large, people thought you were pregnant with the child of God!"

Celestia blushed, thinking on that day. "Oh, I remember how that reporter asked so bluntly-"

Luna interrupted by tearing a sandwich in half to use as a mustache and speaking in a gruff voice. "Celestia, is it true the Creator pounded your ass?" Luna said, holding out her cup like it was a mic.

Celestia burst out laughing, her face a deep red. "T-that's not what he said!" she giggled.

"I dunno, I'm pretty certain those were his exact words!" Luna said, nodding. "Heard it plain as day." She ate the half.

"You weren't even awake for that!" Celestia responded. She gasped for air, trying to control her breathing.

"Yeah, but how many had that dream, I wonder?" Luna asked, tapping her chin with a slice of cheese.

Celestia laughed once more, throwing a carrot at her sister. "Y-you fool! I should have left you on the moon."

"Maybe, maybe." Luna drew on her poster with cheese. "But I would still see your fat ass." She revealed her art, showing Celestia with a comically large rear. She smirked as Celestia's beautiful laughter only grew.

"I- I can't breath!" Celestia gasped. "N-No more! I beg you!"

"Well too bad, because I drew a crap load of caricatures of the weirdest things my dream had to offer!" Luna said excitedly, her grin wide.

"Mercy!"



 

Anon simply stared at Spot, who had just fainted. Is... Is he dead? No, he's still breathing. Maybe he dropped the key? Anon frowned, seeing the key still clutched in Spot's paw. His foot is right there... I could drag him closer and- And jerked away. But that would mean using my teeth! And that would mean... Well, nothing I guess. I only crave pony flesh.

Tear his foot off

Anon turned quickly, looking around herself. "Hello?"

Eat EAT!

No! Sleep and sleep and sleep an

Slime toads and toads stools and nasty little

Anon clopped her hooves together, the voices fading with the sharp noise. "None of that please. None of that." She could feel her heart racing. "Okay, I'm not doing so good. Uh..." She looked back down at Spot. "Oh! Right! Um. What do I do with you?"

Anon walked to the bars and poked her head through. Her shoulders however were too large. She grunted, stretching her neck towards Spot's foot. She firmly bit it, intending to drag Spot closer.

"Huh? Wha!?" Spot awoke with a shout, rising back up. 

Anon yanked her head back, smashing it into the bars, before popping it back in. "FUCK!" she shouted, gripping her head in pain.

"AH!" Spot yanked his foot back. "Little pony tried to eat Spot!"

"No I didn't! I'm full!" Anon quickly said.

"Full of pony!" Spot said. He pulled out a whistle, and stopped. "Full of pony Spot told tiny pony to eat! Ohh, Spot is in deep trouble!" Spot stared down in horror, before slowly tilting his head. A frown grew across his face. "Dead pony is... very eaten. More than hungry pony should eat..." He turned to Anon. "Tiny pony has eaten pony before."

"W-what? No I haven't!" Anon said.

"Tiny pony ate rear first," Spot said, pointing. 

Beads of sweat started forming on Anon's face. "Y-yeah? So?" 

"Only meat eating children know to go for the rear," Spot put the whistle away, and unlocked the cell door. "Little pony stay back. Spot needs to remove the body." he said, stepping in.

Anon snapped her teeth at Spot, quickly moving to intercept. Her lips pulled back showing a row of sharp teeth as she let out a low growl.

Spot let out a yip, jumping back. "Murder pony!" he shouted. He rushed out the cells and slammed the door shut.

He's gonna lock me in! Anon rushed for the door, pushing hard against it. 

Spot struggled to lock the door as Anon bit at his legs. With a grunt, he shoved the key into the lock and turned. He let out a yip as Anon bit his paw. Spot knocked Anon off and withdrew with the key, panting. "Crazy murder pony!" he shouted. Spot quickly moved off down the hall, leaving Anon growling. She grinned as she saw him limping.

Anon glared down the hall, before taking a deep breath. "What the hell was that?" she asked herself. I felt like a different person entirely! Like something in me was replaced by another me who only wanted to eat! Anon felt sick. Her stomach churned as she slumped to the floor. "Have I lost my mind and attacked some poor worker who tends to the patients? Is the dog himself even evil? He told me to eat, and obviously seemed horrified that I actually ate!" Anon let out a sigh. "I feel tired," she grunted.

"Well no wonder you feel tired!" Jump Up said, floating down. "You got three voices thrashing about and you've not even connected with a single one!" Jump Up smiled. "Let me help you. You got three choices pally! Rage, fear, and prick! These three each represent something, and you gotta pick which to lead before your juggling act ends up breaking you!"

Anon simply stared at the eyeless pony. "Random, what the heck are you talking about?"

"Well, think of it this way," Random explained. "Rage is a hateful thing that lashes out at everything with one main focus: Eat and kill anything that stops me from eating. Fear is like a scared little child lost in the woods crying for Mummy. And the third, my personal favorite, the Prick. Insult people, and be a nuisance to society."

Anon sat up. "Well, I do enjoy being an asshole... I'll be a Prick!" The moment Anon finished her words, she felt complete. A mischievous grin spread across her face as she glanced at the corpse. "Ideeea!"

Jump Up gave a large smile. "This is gonna be fun!"






TICK
TOCK
TICK
TOCK

Anon sat in his bed of his apartment, blankly staring at the wall.

TICK
TOCK 
TICK
TOCK

His gave slowly turned to the crown, sitting atop the dresser.

TICK
TOCK
TICK
TOCK

Anon strode across the room. He touched the crown, and smiled.
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