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Of The Eyes: A Fallout Equestria Short Story

I preface my first-ever story post with this: Don’t expect much.

What you are about to read is an egotistical, slovenly mess of self-indulgence and pointless anger. This story came from thoughts not of myself, but of others. A seed that sprouted from complex emotions I had not yet found a way to rein in.

So I started writing. I wrote and I wrote and I wrote, and the words kept flowing. I look back on it now, and I see… Imperfection after imperfection, over and over and over, and I hate it. I hate not just the imperfections, but the fact that I absolutely must find every last one and scour them from my work.

Will that not make it stale and boring?

So listen up: I tried. I tried really hard. Too hard, probably. Everything in the following attempt at Fallout: Equestria-based pony horror will probably have an amount of that “try-hard” feel to it. But you know what?

It’s my first damn work. It’s the first thing I’ve ever cared to publish. It’s the first piece of work that I had an editor for, for christ’s sake.

But I can tell there will be imperfections. Over-explanations, continuity errors, overused/crutch words, OP OC Syndrome, “OH HEY LOOK AT ME IM SO COOL” syndrome, but… Guys, I feel something from this one.

While I can bash the shit out of myself, while I can mentally burn myself for even coming close to the thought of posting this work… I’m proud. I did my god-damned best, even after a horrible bout with disillusionment.

The purpose of my work changed halfway into making it, and I thought it ended. But it never fucking gave up. It stayed and it urged me to go on. I had no choice in the matter.

So… Even if it sucks, guys, please try to enjoy it if you enjoy horror. I’d love to have constructive feedback, too. Or even just feedback.

A warning, though. This is as dark as I could muster. A lot of strange, painful feelings went into writing this little piece, so if it somehow turns out to be well-written, then have a look at the tags and avoid if any of them are not in your taste.

Written by: Scribbles von Belfry

Copy Editor: Lorna Ightormens

Story after the break.

Keep reading

bang bang, you’re dead

fifty bullets in your head

one shot up the bum

that makes fifty-one

lol im a writer kek

So… I won. People passed me Green/White again, and I fucking won. I was all like: “Well, I’m going the same colors again, and every time I’ve tried to fit into that, I’ve dropped at least one match.” But then, like… I dunno. I countered that line of logic. I said “Well, fuck, I’ve not even tried, yet. What do I know?” And FUCK. The deck was BULLSHIT. In all 6 winning games, I never gave them a chance. I just had gigantic creatures out. They’d kill one. Hey look, 3 more next turn. HAVE FUN, BUDDY! No matter how hard they tried to shoot me down, I just took it to the chest and kept fucking swinging. I love this game, I love winning, I love sharing the cheer around. So I dedicated the win to a certain person who’s been drowning in doubt, burning themself out. Perhaps you know who you are, perhaps not. I know I’m pretty much a creeper-fan of you at this point, but hey, I owe you. Hardcore. Hope that at least dries up some of the weirdness I’ve been showing around yah, man. And, look, I know what you’re thinking. “Man, it’s just a game! What’s so special about it?” It’s the principle, it’s the message it gets across. Like… I dunno. See what you can do when you just believe?