Nothing but the sad reality of her predicament had been plaguing, Fluttershy's mind for almost two months. Or... at least it felt like two months... the only way to tell time was when she and her fellow captives were fed. What she had assumed was once a day. These people weren't exactly fed extravagantly. But that's part of being a slave isn't it.
All Fluttershy could remember before being taken was arriving at her hotel in Bavaria. A rather slummy Building like most in that country. Despite it's high crime rate, and all around 'shitholedness' the sprawling countryside was so beautiful it drew Fluttershy in, anyway. However she was there more for the diversity of the animals. She spent that day in the countryside wandering threw the thick forest, taking in the beauty of life. Fucking irony. Now she was in a shipping container headed for Celestia knows where, probably to some old perv, to live the rest of her life with her mouth on his... You get the the idea.
She sat in silence hiding behind her light pink hair, in this very, large yet constricting box. Everything ached. She hadn't been able to sleep for days. Her stomach cramped from hunger. Her eyes, sore from crying. She wanted to die. She would have prayed to Luna for her demise, but why did it not come?.
Suddenly the doors that separated the slaves from the rest of the ship were yanked open. Then all were blinded by light masking a silhouette. "Everyone up," an aged and gruff voice yelled. Most didn't hesitate but Fluttershy was in no hurry to become a sex slave. She was the last to exit. She wasn't expecting rain to assault her as she tried to walk on her wary legs. As she passed the man she noticed not only an ever so frightening gun but a face that looked wolfish and hungry for blood.
"Over there" he pointed to the far side of the ship.
Most got the message. Fluttershy was not not among them.
"move dammit, MOVE!"
She got the message. She ran to join the other's among the band of slaves fighting wind and rain alike to keep from falling. They had gathered near a man directing them down a ladder onto a boat. In the distance She could hear something. Screaming and gunfire. She grew worried at this. But before she had time to think anymore of it, a cold hand had entwined itself in her hair. It pulled her face to meet another, ugly, face staring back at her.
"Down the fucking ladder cunt!"
She had never been treated so harshly. It was petrifying her with fear. But she forced herself to the ladder anyway. Slowly making her way down the slick, wet metal. She almost slipped, more than once. Damn rain.
Finally her feet found the boat, But they were soon taken out from under her. She had been pulled to the floor.
There was only so much more of being bashed around, she could take.
"Keep low and, shut up," a thick, male voice ordered.
She did so muffling her crying with her arm. All she wanted to do, was die.
It was the thrill. The pulse. The defiance of death, was like the defiance of a god to RainbowDash. That was why she raced. And that was why she lived. She was a street racer even if she didn't dress the part.
She zoomed past the leading car. It wasn't much further now and ten grand would be all hers, and the better reward of victory. The red lights of Los Pegasus began to zip past her like, a light show in motion, until it was time for her trademark drift into the finish line.
She slammed the brakes, whilst simultaneously turning left. It ended just after her car did a 360 degree spin, in to the pre-determined destination, screeching all the while.
"Fuck yeah!"
She emerged from her sun roof to gloat, gleefully displaying her middle finger, to all that passed her. The warm air of los pegasi greeted her. She could hear insults being yelled back at her, but she didn't give a damn. As a matter of fact she enjoyed the hate sent her way- Almost sexually. She always had this glow after a race. It happened every time she won. And she always won. She could have stayed until the world ended. But she had to sate another vice. Greed.
Miles away in forest usually in peaceful splendor, another pursuit of money unfolded. AJ hoisted a man with her rope. The man was not at all happy at this, since the only thing connecting them was a line of hemp around his neck, hung over a hardy, though dead, tree limb. The man was bound like an animal. Applejack was being paid to make him suffer. She killed to live. Finally she let the rope free. It was time to move on, as his suffering was far from over.
She looked at him. his face purple, covered in blood and sweat. "D'yuh know why yer bout to die," she asked genuinly.
He, coughed blood, giving her no attention.
"Didn't think so,"
She unsheathed her nightmarish, tribal knife, and grabbed him by his hair. It was now that his voice came back. As soon as the large knife made contact with his head, he began crying out like a newborn.
"Hold still dammit," She, said jerking him, showing her annoyance.
It fell on deph ears. He couldn't take it, he had never hurt like this before.
When she was finally done she simply tossed his scalp aside. She only removed it to cause him pain any how. Besides that, it was time to end her game.
"P-please, k-kill me," he pleaded, blood cascading over his fearful face. The grass around him becoming tainted by his blood escaping, from where his neon blue hair used to sit atop his crown.
AJ looked at him, tipping her stetson to cover her eyes. "That's the plan."
She pulled her trusty beretta from under her worn poncho, and followed through. Stoically like some cliche angel of death. Usually this clearing held a zen like peace to it. But not today.
"Smile!" She twisted the blade in the strangers hand. "I'm not takin' it out until you smile, dammit, SMILE!" The subdued woman finally mustered enough strength to give a weak grin. The assulting woman, a pink haired ball of energy, let go of the blade and punched her hard, in the nose.
"GAH! Fuck! Y-you broke it!" The victim screamed, through clenched teeth.
She stood, from her kneeling position, and slammed her knee into the others face, staining her white shorts with blood, "Smile! not a grin, a full fledged motherfuckin' smile!"
"Alright, alright just please stop, hurting me," She held her face with the hand not pinned to the wall with a knife, "Just hold on,"
Growing impatient, the pink haired assailant stomped, "Now!"
She finally revealed the treasured smile, for the abusive bitch who had been beating her, so remorselessly. It was by all means the most remedial smile, one could conjure, but a smile none the less.
"Finally," The aggressor said, pulling the knife that pinned the beaten ones hand to the wall, free. Blood was all around them. On the floors, on the walls, and inevitably covering them (though, most of the blood on the walls were, from previous nights of fun) in the foul liquid.
The bloody, mess of a female looked up at her hostile breathing heavily. "N-now please let me go. Money I can give y-you lots of money, just-" She was cut short, by the knife re-entering her body. Only this time it found it's way into her chest nestling in her heart.
How could it all have come to this? A straight A student attending not one of, but, THE best college in Equestria, drops out and becomes... a 'candy' cook. (Candy being a very illegal drug.) Twilight Sparkle spent every day producing all the 'candy' her resources would permit. Why? Basically to cling to her own pathetic existence. Her once beautifully pale skin had turned almost yellow from, her time "cooking".
She toiled away, working with dangerous chemicals day in and day out. Wearing only her respirator and underwear. In her dark musky basement, In a desert far from civilization.
KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!
The sound almost made her drop the cup of phosphate in her hand. Which would have been... catastrophic.
"W-who is it," She stuttered as loudly as she could, fearing it might be the police.
"Your best assistant," was heard.
"Come in," She replied with relief.
Hastily she finished the final step in her operation. In walked her only real, assistant Spike.
"Uh... is it done yet, Twi?" He asked timidly.
Twilight wiped sweat from her forehead, " It will need to harden over night, like always."
Spike looked over Twilights production set, "Awesome, I've already got a few deals lined up." He sold at the high school he went to (Though it was really just another place to doze for him.) Twilight decided now was as good a time to rest as any. (But not before washing the stink of "candy" off.) She took off the respirator, put on a T-shirt and headed up stairs, to the lonely, depressing, hardly standing house she called her home. Spike, too headed up stairs behind Twilight, averting his eyes from her... bum, out of respect for her. She was his superior after all.
Despite this emotionless, encounter, she was the only real mother figure for him. She was stressed, however. And when she was stressed she seemed more robotic than human "bye," Spike said breaking the silence. Twilight only gave a curt wave, before heading to her bathroom. Spike headed outside to the waiting junker, driven by his only real friend, and partner. ( His deadbeat parents couldn't be bothered buy him a car) It was time to go back to his depressing life. He relished every moment with Twilight Sparkle. Had it not been for her, he would have blown his head off long ago.
Everyone loved diamonds. Especially Rarity. Of course, most wouldn't, deprive other's of basic human rights, to satisfy this lust for a shining jewel. She did. Her job in the eyes of the public was to run a string of jewelry stores, and designer clothing stores. But no one ever asked where the exquisite diamonds came from. Not that any one of any real importance cared. Rarity was definitely kind hearted, and generous. But her greed had a far longer arm. An arm that would always receive what it reached for.
Every day she sat in her lavish, mostly white, Manehatten office basking in the spoils of inhumanity. Making business calls, and obsessing over her purple, and highly stylized hair for hours on end. She was undoubtedly subject to many, male (and some female) fantasy's. Good genes and wealth often ended in an attractive person. She was clearly no exception. On one long binge of hair obsession her, 'crime' phone (a disposable, phone she used for discussing her more illicit activities) rang. Quickly she grabbed it, and answered, "Good evening."
A short moment passed, before a response came in a thick Bavarian accent, " I am calling to let you know I've knew worker's soon to be arriving at your haremstov mines. By ne-"
"Pardon, me," Rarity stopped him,"how many?"
"Apologies. The usual 'generous' amount," The Bavarian said, annoyed that had been interrupted.
"Excellent," She said feigning glee.
"I know," He hung up.
Rarity, did so too. The more 'workers' that filled her mines, the more people bringing in diamonds for her. And that meant more profit. Her system of business was horrible, and deep down she truly hated herself for it. But not enough to stop creating the pinnacle to so many nightmares. Not enough to quit ruining lives. Not enough to stop.