Anon's Corruption by Cerenth(Part 11)


                                            Copied from https://pastebin.com/5gufbEPK

                                            Original author Cerenth (http://www.pastebin.com/u/Cerenth)

                                            "Anon's Corruption: Part 11 - Loyalty 1"

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                                            >You are Rainbow Dash.

                                            >But you don’t feel very Rainbow Dashy at the moment.

                                            >Anon was doing something weird to you guys, and being really mean to Fluttershy!

                                            >And then Discord came in and didn’t play fair.

                                            >When you get out of here, you’re gonna deck him right in that big stupid goat face of his.

                                            >Unfortunately you don’t know where here is.

                                            >After Anon turned you into humans, he did something weird again, and then you lost your vision.

                                            >You can feel that you have hands and feet again, and that you don’t have your wings.

                                            >It sucks that you can’t fly anymore. You want to be a p0ny again!

                                            >The only thing you’re really aware of is that your head is resting on something soft.

                                            >Really soft. And slightly fuzzy.

                                            >It feels nice on the skin on your cheek.

                                            >Also somep0ny is stroking your hair.

                                            >Memories that aren’t your own rush into your mind.

                                            >Memories of being comforted by something bigger than you. Your mother?

                                            >The stroking movement is calming. This is good because for some reason you feel so sad.

                                            >You don’t even know why. But the pain in your heart is worse than anything you’ve ever felt.

                                            >You try to move your body. You can’t.

                                            >You try to open your eyes.

                                            >They creep open slightly. They feel sore.

                                            >It seems that you don’t really have control of your body. Looks like you’re just along for the ride on this one.

                                            >Your vision is blurry at first, but you blink away whatever was obscuring your vision and take in your surroundings.

                                            >You’re in a wooden house, lying on a bed.

                                            >The room you’re in has a desk in front of its window.

                                            >Out the window you can see rows and rows of trees, each a brilliant green, punctuated with tiny red dots.

                                            >Morning light filters in through the window, illuminating the rustic features of the room.

                                            >The furniture is all wooden and looks to be heirlooms passed down through the family. They’re all built to last, carved from dark wood and showing their age.

                                            >A glass cabinet on one wall shows various awards and medals.

                                            >You turn your head to the supposed owner of the room, whose lap you are currently resting on.

                                            >Applejack smiles down on you, her emerald eyes full of love and compassion. Her hair is out of its usual ponytail, and her golden locks cascade down her shoulders in rough tangles.

                                            >”Y’all alright, sugarcube? We found ya last night out in th’ rain.”

                                            >You’re overwhelmed by emotions that aren’t your own. Memories of what Anon did last night hit you like a tidal wave of guilt, pain and fear.

                                            >You embrace Applejack in a tight hug, feeling her coat pressed tightly to your face.

                                            >Last night Fluttershy raped him.

                                            >He managed to get away after she had her way with him. He ran all the way to Sweet Apple Acres in his shame-addled state, to the only p0ny he thought could help him. All the way to his real love, Applejack.

                                            >But when he got to the house he collapsed. All that had happened to him caught up to him and he was swept away by the emotions and shock that ran through him.

                                            >He gave in to the sweet embrace of oblivion as he fainted. But even in his sleep he was plagued by so many feelings.

                                            >How could he have been so powerless?

                                            >How could Fluttershy do something like that?

                                            >How could he be so betrayed by his honesty? It did nothing to solve his problems, only worsen them.

                                            >But now he cried them all out.

                                            >He let his tears flow into Applejack’s orange coat, staining it dark with all his internal woes.

                                            >And she was there to catch it all, stroking his head and hugging him back as he let it all out.

                                            >”W-what happened last night?”

                                            #SYNCHRONISING

                                            >You don’t know why you thought you were Rainbow Dash then.

                                            >You are Anon.

                                            >You told Applejack all about what happened.

                                            >”Anon... I’m so sorry. I had no idea...”

                                            “It’s not your fault, Applejack. It’s hers.”

                                            >After your emotional outburst and your tears had stopped flowing all your turmoil was brought to a head.

                                            >There was only one thing in your mind now.

                                            >Hate.

                                            >Hate for that yellow bitch that had done those things to you. Who had taken away your choice. Who had made you feel so worthless.

                                            >She used you like a sex toy and expected your love.

                                            >Never.

                                            >How could you forgive her for something so hideous?

                                            >What you wanted now was justice.

                                            >Justice and retribution.

                                            >You get up off Applejack.

                                            >She sees the scowl on your face, and worry creeps into her eyes.

                                            >”Now, sugarcube, I know you’re upset, but... Don’t go doin’ anythin’ brash. You know Ah’m here for ya. An’ so is ev’rybody else, y’hear. So you just simmer down.”

                                            >Simmer down. Ha.

                                            >She has no idea about how much rage is flowing through your veins.

                                            >You clench your fists tightly. You can feel your heart pumping furiously as you imagine what you’ll do to her.

                                            “I won’t, Applejack. You don’t know what she did. How violated I was. I’ll kill her.”

                                            >You manage to complete your sentence, but feel two hooves impact into your chest.

                                            >You stagger backwards. Applejack kicked you, but she was pulling her punches.

                                            >”Ah’m sorry, hun. But Ah cain’t let ya go an’ do that. She’s one o’ th’ elements of harmony. An’ on top of that she’s mah friend.”

                                            >No way. She can’t defend her after all she’s done.

                                            >Betrayal.

                                            >On top of everything, betrayal. You can’t trust these p0nies anymore.

                                            >You’re about to do something you might regret when you’re interrupted.

                                            >”Applejack! One o’ yer friends is here t’ see you!” Granny Smith bellows.

                                            >”Now you wait right here, hun. And you’d better have calmed down by the time Ah get back.”

                                            >She exits the room, keeping her eyes on you the whole time.

                                            >You reciprocate, keeping eye contact with your next potential fight.

                                            >She leaves and you hear her go downstairs.

                                            >Once she’s down there you exit the room. Despite your fury you need to find a bathroom.

                                            >After stumbling on Apple Bloom’s and Big Mac’s rooms you find the bathroom.

                                            >Once you’re in there and take care of your biological needs you wash your hands in the sink.

                                            >Over the quiet sound of running water you can hear two female voices talking below you.

                                            >”Fluttershy said he didn’t come home last night.”

                                            >”No, he stayed the night here.” One with a southern drawl says.

                                            >”What’s he doing here?! You do know those two are dating, right?”

                                            >DATING?!

                                            >WHO THE HELL SAID WE WERE DATING?!

                                            >”Ah don’t rightly remember him saying that, hun. Who told you that?”

                                            >”Fluttershy of course. She said that they... consummated their relationship last night.”

                                            >”Ah heard a completely different story.”

                                            >”What? Are you saying that Fluttershy’s lying?”

                                            >”Well Ah am the element of honesty. Anon told me a different story. Ah believe him. Ah can tell if somep0ny’s lyin’”

                                            >”He isn’t a p0ny, Applejack. Maybe you’re getting false readings. I doubt that Fluttershy is lying.”

                                            >”Well Ah think Anon is tellin’ the truth. D’ya even wanna hear what he told me?”

                                            >”Please enlighten me.”

                                            >”He said that she forced him to have sex.”

                                            >”Forced him? But why would she lie about that? The two of them have been a couple since Anon got here!”

                                            >”Ah work with him a lot more than you. Ah know Anon. He ain’t lyin’. If you saw the state of him this mornin’, you’d say the same.”

                                            >You take this opportunity to take a look at yourself in the mirror.

                                            >Your eyes are red and puffy. Your neckbeard has returned in full force. Your hair is messy and scruffy.

                                            >Mud cakes your face and twigs are plastered onto those patches.

                                            >A pathetic man stares back at you.

                                            >A broken man.

                                            >You take out your frustration on the mirror by punching it.

                                            >It shatters, obediently.

                                            >You can feel blood oozing out the cuts in your knuckles.

                                            >It drips into the running water in the sink and creates macabre swirls as it flows down the drain.

                                            >You should probably check for shards of glass in your hand.

                                            >But right now all you want to do is cry into the sink.

                                            >So long as the water washes away your tears, it’ll be like they never fell at all.


                                            >The voices continue talking, but you don’t listen.

                                            >You’re too wrapped up in your depression to notice.

                                            >You’re snapped out of it by a hoof knocking the door.

                                            >”Sugarcube, y’all alright in there?”

                                            >It’s Applejack.

                                            >You’ve lost your adrenaline rush from earlier, so you’re a lot calmer now.

                                            “Yeah. I mean, no. I’m not alright. Come in.”

                                            >She gingerly pushes the door open.

                                            >”Have you been cryin’ again?”

                                            “Yeah. Look, I’m sorry about earlier. I don’t want to take out my frustrations on you.”

                                            >”Ah know hun. We p0nies jus’ think it best t’ start solvin’ problems with words, not hooves.”

                                            “Yeah. You’re right.”

                                            >You pick yourself up from being hunched over the sink.

                                            >Blood drips down your fingers and onto the bathroom floor.

                                            >”Oh gawrsh you’re bleedin’! An’ what did you do to our mirror?”

                                            “I’m sorry Applejack, I...”

                                            >”I’ll go get the first aid kit. You get some water running on that cut y’hear?”

                                            >She gallops off before you can respond.

                                            >You feel so guilty about what you almost did earlier.

                                            >About what she made you do to your most treasured friend.

                                            >She’s shaken you down to your very foundations.

                                            >That you were considering violence...

                                            >It scares you.

                                            >You do as Applejack says and start washing the cut.

                                            >She returns with the first aid box and motions for you to follow her.

                                            >She guides you to her room, where she lies down on the bed.

                                            >You sit down next to her and she starts getting tools out to deal with your injury.

                                            >She tends to you in silence.

                                            >You can’t bring yourself to look into her eyes.

                                            >The only sound exchanged between you is your wincing as she removes the shards of glass from your hand.

                                            >”There. All done.”

                                            >You look down at your hand.

                                            >For someone who doesn’t have hands of her own, she’s done a fine job bandaging it.

                                            “Thanks.”

                                            >You still can’t look at her, even in your gratitude.

                                            >”It was Twilight, you know.”

                                            >Oh, she’s talking about the conversation you overheard.

                                            >”She said that Fluttershy was lookin’ for ya. She’s been spreadin’ talk about you not returnin’ home last night.”

                                            >You nod. She has your attention, but nothing seems as important to you anymore.

                                            >”Ah told her what you told me. ‘Bout her forcin’ herself on ya. Twi doesn’t wanna believe it, but she won’t argue with the element of honesty.”

                                            >”She says Fluttershy sees it another way. That she was just showin’ her love. Ah don’t think she knows the meanin’ of the word.”

                                            >Applejack always knew how to shoot straight with the truth.

                                            >You feel glad that you’ve got her backing your corner.

                                            >Out here on the farm you’re away from prying eyes. Judging eyes. Eyes that aren’t on your side.

                                            >And it doesn’t help that everyp0ny thinks you and Fluttershy are a couple.

                                            >The very idea makes you sick to your stomach.

                                            >”Look hun, I... Yer welcome to stay on the farm, y’know? Yer as good as family here.”

                                            >You feel a spark of hope ignite in your chest as you hear those words.

                                            “T-thanks Applejack. I... I don’t think I can go back... I don’t think I can face her.”

                                            >”You don’t have to. And you don’t have to do it alone. Y’got me. An’ Big Mac. An’ Granny Smith! She’s a force t’be reckoned with!”

                                            >She laughs, and you laugh with her. You wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of Granny’s walking stick, that’s for sure.

                                            >”An’ don’t you fret about the girls. I’ll talk with ‘em and set everythin’ straight, you’ll see!”

                                            >You don’t doubt her for a second.

                                            >When it comes to Applejack, you know she’s a mare of her word.

                                            >But right now, you don’t want to see anyp0ny.

                                            >”Look, hun. You just lie down here. Granny Smith’ll have baked a pie by lunchtime. Come down when you feel up to it.”

                                            “Thank you so much, Applejack. I don’t know where I’d be without you...”

                                            >”Aww shucks, sugar. Ah... Ah just...”

                                            >She blushes profusely.

                                            >”Ah’d better get to town to straighten this here thing out.”

                                            >She promptly hops off the bed and gallops out the door.

                                            >You raise a hand to stop her, and you intend to speak, but you hesitate and lose your chance.

                                            >You’ll tell her how you feel later.

                                            >Right now you need to sleep.

                                            >You just feel so tired all of a sudden...