At first, I think they're Earth ponies. Pretty quickly, though, I realise that that's just what they've become. What I'm really looking at is a pile of Pegasi with their fucking wings cut off.
The pile's massive, and so is the amount of puke that comes out of my mouth. As I cough, some gets on me, but I don't fully notice - that's how much more disgusted I am with the thing that made me throw up in the first place. This is horrible. This is fucking awful, and I don't know how much more awful it could get. It doesn't help that as I smell all that blood, I imagine that it's turned into air, and that bloody air is going into my nose and down my throat and...
Shut up. Fucking shut up, you cunt. You disgusting filth-cunt. Shut up, shut up, shut up, you should never think or talk ever again. Don't touch me. Don't fucking touch me with those thoughts. The feelings are even less clean. You cunt. You cunt. Shut up, you cunt. Oh, it's unbearable. I can't, I can't, I can't, I can't, I can't. Leave me the fuck alone. What is this? What am I looking at? It's a pile of Pegasi that aren't even Pegasi anymore. Oh, please, please... Never again, I can't. Oh...
They're not all the same either. They're young and old, and lots of them are girls. I need to stop trying to get a full picture, but that's just not how my mind works. I need it all. All, all, all, all, all. Oh, Celestia, I'm getting closer. The smell, the smell... I reach out with my shaking hoof and put it right where one of the wings used to be. I'm killing myself. Why am I killing myself? Stop...
I've had this dream before, so it didn't take long for me to figure out that I'm dreaming. Nightmare, it's a nightmare. Why can't I wake up? I do it all the time, when it's any other dream - I realise that I'm dreaming, and then I force myself to wake the fuck up. Why do I never try to escape from this one nightmare? Why do I do this to myself? Why am I putting my hoof in my mouth? The blood's in the cunt in my face now, and I have nothing left to vomit. All I can do is gag as I slowly crawl to the top of the deathpile, making sure that I'm making as much contact as possible with the wingless Pegasi - the blood gets into my mane and onto my chest and everywhere else. I don't want to lie at the top, but that's exactly where I'm heading and what I'll be doing as soon as I get there. I'm not looking forward to it, and I'm not looking forward to waking up either - I'll scream and cry, and after that, there won't even be anything better than what I'm dreaming right now.