Side Effects

by Radapony64

First published

The use of dark magic can have a lasting effect on a pony's mind unless the right precautions are taken. When those precautions are not taken, that pony's mind might open like Pandora's box, and spread fear and destruction across the l

Every mind, whether feeble or strong, possesses a root of corruption. A root that takes pleasure in the wrong and unjustified. What makes each root unique, though, is the trigger. It could range from a minuscule event to one of great stress and concentration. Unfortunately, one pony's particular trigger was set off with the use of particularly dark and chaotic magic. Magic that undoubtedly would bring about a conclusion to her story...characters and all.


(Picture belongs to TurboSolid. Also, thanks to Electric Bass for help on a few things.)

Side Effects

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Twilight awoke to the telltale call of a crow, signaling to others its claim to territory before gliding down to the ground. She slowly opened her eyes, straining to raise her eyelids as if they were boulders. A pain in her side hummed through her, spreading its agony throughout her body. She raised a hoof to find the source of the pain, only to wince as her hoof made contact with the exposed flesh. She brought her hoof before her eyes and saw a crimson liquid covering the point where she had touched the wound. Closing her eyes again, she tried to ignore the pain and go back to sleep.

She was lying on top of something irregular, something soft but firm like an overstuffed pillow. The object felt cold against her coat, making her shiver a bit when combined with the coolness of the atmosphere. Twilight shifted her position without opening her eyes, blindly moving off of the object to a point where she could lean her head against it. As her head made contact with the object, Twilight could feel a cold liquid against it, making her lift her head in confusion and turn and face the object to see what had caused the cold sensation.

She screamed.

A flock of crows took off nearby as they panicked from the sudden noise. Twilight stared at the corpse, identifying it immediately but examining its every feature in the hopes of being wrong. The mare’s orange coat was covered in blood, some of it ripped out altogether. Her blond mane was destroyed and torn, the ends of the hairs now singed where a ponytail once reigned. She was sprawled out on the ground, her mouth agape with the look of pure agony and one of her eyes slightly loose from its socket. Twilight felt like she was going to vomit when she saw three red apples decorating the mare’s bloody flank.

She deserved it, you know.

Twilight looked around frantically for the source of the voice. “Who’s there? Who are you?” she called, noticing her surroundings for the first time since she woke up. She was in Ponyville, but not the Ponyville she knew. The buildings, once bright and colorful, were now dark and depressing, as was the sky. Scorch marks decorated walls, and hanging store signs were either hanging on for dear life or gone completely. Rubble littered the streets and windows were shattered on most buildings. Twilight finally did vomit when she noticed that the corpse of Applejack was not the only one to lie cold on the ground.

They deserved it too.

The voice plagued Twilight once more; this time sounding like it was behind her. She spun around, ready to confront the one to whom the voice belonged and interrogate it. She was greeted only by two separate halves of a pony and a sharp pain in her side from the sudden movement. Confused, she turned back around to face her friend’s corpse and sat back down. She sobbed as the reality of the situation finally hit her, breaking the adrenaline that had kept her from crying. The memories of her friends pounded in her head and solidified in the salty droplets rolling down her cheeks.

Don’t be weak. You don’t need them.

Twilight jumped up from her misery, ignoring both the voice and the pain emitting from her side. She took off down the road, not sure of her destination but also not caring. She just wanted to run away, run away from the corpses and burnt buildings, run away from the unknown voice stalking her from the shadows. Everywhere she looked there were corpses decorating the ground, around every corner another body of a friend. The stench that filled the air made her sick, as did the sight of everywhere she looked.

A body she hadn’t noticed appeared in front of her, catching her hoof and throwing her into the ground just past it. She wiped the dirt off of her face and looked back at the body responsible, only to wish she had not done so. The delicate figure that lay mutilated on the ground was almost unrecognizable, her cutie mark having been replaced with boiled flesh. Blood covered the pony, and what was not covered in blood was burnt and black. Her mane was completely gone, either ripped out or burnt off, and she was missing one of her ears. Her only identifying feature were some dirt-covered patches of yellow among the blood and burn marks.

She was weak.

“Fluttershy… was not… weak. She was… kind.” Twilight answered, stuttering through sobs while trying to hold them back. She surprised herself with the bravery to answer the mysterious voice, which seemed to wait for a minute in surprise before answering.

Kindness is a weakness.

“Kindness is a strength!” Twilight yelled, standing again and continuing her attempt at escape. As she ran, her endeavor of escape turned into that of investigation. She passed the settings of some of her favorite memories as she ran, jolting memories of her surely dead friends. The bakery that was Sugarcube Corner was now all but a pile of rubble, its once happy and joyful exterior replaced with one of death and abandonment. Carousel Boutique, the once beautiful home of Rarity, was now a pile of ash and burnt furniture. Two burnt husks strained to escape the inferno, forever petrified in the agony of flame. Even the ethereal cloud house that was home to Rainbow Dash had crashed to the ground; its fluffy white clouds now that of thunder and storm. No matter where she went, Twilight was met with no answers, only death and destruction.

She had one last place to investigate in hopes of figuring out what had happened; her own home, the library. She teleported straight to it, not willing to wait for answers any longer. The tree was seemingly untouched, while dark and gloomy, it was not damaged as the other buildings in the town were. Twilight pushed on the door gently, being greeted by a soft creak from the hinges as they assisted in moving the heavy piece of wood. She slowly opened it, moving it about halfway open before suddenly being stopped by something on the other side. She pushed a bit harder, moving the obstacle slightly before being stopped again. She pushed harder still, but the object would not budge further. She finally enwrapped the door in magic and forced it open, causing what had been stopping her to slide out from behind the door.

He was reluctant to fight back.

Twilight ignored the voice and stared at the little green dragon on the floor before her. Her knees gave way as tears poured from her eyes, each of them dropping onto the burnt and disheveled carcass. A few of his spines were missing; some of his scales lay strewn about the ground. His eyes were missing, black holes replacing their once childish appearance. In his claw he clutched a scroll, singed and burnt in some places. Twilight used her magic to gently open the dragon’s claw and retrieve the note before closing it again. Through her tears, Twilight slowly unrolled the note and began to read what she could:

“Princess! It’s Spike…. something wrong with Twilight… angry… dark magic… hurting ponies… tried to calm her down… won’t listen… need help…”

Twilight stared at the note, rereading the legible words in hopes of misunderstanding their meaning. She read it over a hundred times, still not believing what they suggested. She tried to convince herself that the rest of the note would change its meaning, that it would lay the blame on somepony else.

It was you.

“No…” Twilight said in denial, her mind racing with the thought of what she had done.

You killed them all.

“They… they were my friends…” Twilight mumbled through tears, sitting up against a wall for support. She buried her head in her hooves, the pain in her side not nearly comparing to the pain in her heart. She began to scream and cry violently, letting loose all of her emotion and allowing it to roll down her cheeks.

Pathetic.

Twilight jumped up from her misery and fired a bolt of magic in the direction of the voice, shattering a window and scorching the wall around it.

Missed me.

Twilight fired in a new direction, this time hitting the door. The hinges gave way immediately and the door flew off into the road. The voice chuckled at her attempt.

Yes… Let the Hatred fill your heart…

Twilight fired blindly once more, this time hitting a bookshelf just beside her. The blast threw her across the room and ignited the wooden shelves. The fire spread as Twilight rose to her feet, igniting other bookshelves as well as the wood of the tree itself. The fire weakened the supports above the door, causing the doorway to collapse and trap Twilight inside the burning tree. She looked around franticly for a way out, spotting the staircase leading to the upper floor of the library. She ran through the flames towards it, barely dodging a falling support and quickly ascending. Halfway up the staircase, she stopped and took one last look at the burning reservoir of knowledge where she had spent so many loving memories. The growing fire forced her to ascend fully, abandoning the library and the now burning corpse of her dear friend.

Now you’re trapped.

“Go away!” Twilight shouted as she slammed the door to her room behind her. She threw her hooves to her head to try and tame the thoughts that pounded against her skull.

You brought this upon yourself.

“How?! How did I ask for all of my friends to be slaughtered?!” Twilight yelled in defiance. She had run out of tears, fueled now only by hatred for the voice that had haunted her since she woke up. The fire had reached the door, and smoke poured in from the crack between it and the floor.

There is no escape.

Twilight began to search desperately for the voice, tearing up her bed and looking in every place she could think of. If she could not escape it, she had to destroy it.

You cannot destroy me…

She ignored the voice and continued her frenzied search, also ignoring the fire that was now beginning to spread through her room. She had to find it. She had to destroy it.


Because I am you.


Twilight stopped in her tracks and stared straight ahead, the throbbing pain from her wound being the only feeling in her body. She finally understood why she couldn’t escape from the voice, why every time she tried to catch it, it slipped away from her grasp. Why she missed every time she fired magic at it, and why it tried to justify her actions. She finally understood, and therefore understood what she must do.

Twilight opened the door to her balcony with a gentle push, and felt a gust of cool air do battle against the raging flame behind her. She walked blindly out onto the balcony, staring straight ahead at the tops of the houses that had once housed now dead ponies. When she got to the railing, she placed one hoof onto it and climbed up.

What are you doing?!

She balanced on the railing easily, managing to turn herself around to face the inferno behind her.

You’ll destroy us both!

Twilight ignored the voice’s pleading, closed her eyes, and pointed her head towards the sky. Celestia’s bright sun began rising over the horizon, illuminating Twilight in a redeeming spotlight. She held her forehooves out to her sides, and, just as the fire reached the railing, allowed herself to drift slowly over the edge.

NO!!!!!

Twilight fell gracefully through the air, feeling the cool air propel her mane away from her. The bright sky smiled down on her as she fell, making her feel safe even as her life was ending. The voice had been defeated, the one responsible for her friends’ deaths brought to justice. She felt at peace as she collided with the ground, and was enwrapped not by the cold arms of death, but by the warm arms of forgiveness.