It was late. Very late. So late that it was early. 2:15:47am, to be exact. A young artist had almost gotten ready for bed. She snuggled under the covers, green eyes shut tight, and short, auburn hair splayed about her pillow, satisfied with the drawings that had kept her up so late. Some of the tension in her muscles left as she tried to relax into the matress, but still she lay on the verge of slumber, incapable of true sleep. Something kept bothering her. Something wasn't done.

Suddenly, she remembered: the apple core! She had forgotten to throw it away. Groaning, she flicked the lights back on, illuminating her discordant room. Old homework papers, early drawings, dirty clothes, and books dominated the floor. Her huge bookcase, though replete with novels, was disorganized and messy, something her mother never failed to reprimand her for. In the corner sat a writer's desk. This also was strewn with books, papers, pencils, and assorted miscellaneous items. Just in front of the desk's chair rested a hibernating laptop, where she kept all her stories. To its right, an open sketchbook. The exposed drawing depicted a lovely grey unicorn, her cutie mark a vertical blue pencil flanked by two colored pencils: one lavender, the other midnight black. She had a black, flowing mane and tail, lavender highlights running through them, being seduced by a jigsawed creature. His red-irised, yellow eyes glared at her malevolently behind bushy white brows, his mouth sporting an evil grin, embellished by a snaggletooth. He had two horns: the left much like a deer's antler, and the right icy blue, looking more like multiple bulbs stuck on top of one another than a normal horn. From the neck up, his fur was grey, but from there on down, a rich shade of brown. His left arm, an eagle's leg and talons, brushed back the mare's hair tenderly, while his right arm, a lion's paw, gripped the top of the mare's two forelegs, pulling her closer. Said mare was completely enthralled and helpless, blue eyes enchanted by the spirit before her. In the bottom right of the drawing, an almost illegible name could be made out: Arletta. At the laptop's left lay the remains of a Gala apple, swathed in a paper towel.

Arletta snatched up the apple core, shooting a fond glance at her sketchbook before entering the darkness beyond her room. She didn't like turning on the lights, just in case her parents woke up, but she was afraid of the dark. The walk to the garage where the family threw out food, she could handle, but the walk back? Not so much. That place creeped her out, in the dark or not. Anything could be in there! She knew this was a completely irrational rear, but, nonetheless, her anxiety forced her to sprint back to her room. Unfortunately, her fears were correct this time around. An entity was lurking around her home.

Said entity watched the short haired girl sprint back to her room. 'Draw me, then run from me,' he thought, chuckling. 'What strange creatures these humans of mine are. No matter, she'll do.'

He stalked her, invisible, harrumphing upon seeing that she was not going to bed yet. She snatched up her glasses and a journal and began scribbling in a stroke of inspiration. This could be a long night.

The artist awoke to two surprises. The first was her glasses. They were still on her nose, a bit displaced by the arm her head had been resting on. Confusion reigned for a moment, but she soon remembered she had been writing, and must have fallen asleep. She sat up and was promptly met with her second surprise: The object of dozens of pieces of her artwork and the main character in half her fanfics was in her room. Sitting on her chair. Looking at drawings of himself. She dropped her jaw, blinking again. Her mouth opened and closed, attempting to form words but thinking of nothing. The newcomer raised his crimson eyes to her and cocked an eyebrow.

"Need something, darling?" Discord asked.

"I… I… think I'm schizophrenic." She said, rushing to the bathroom and washing her face. The draconequus followed her. Furry peach rugs covered some of the smooth tile. Towels, the same color as the rugs, hung on gold-painted towel racks. There were two sinks indented in the marble countertop, each with matching golden sink heads and handles. In front of them, perfect for looking through while brushing one's teeth, was a huge mirror, covering the entire front wall. Assorted toothpastes, lotions, soaps, medicines, contact equipment, and two sonic toothbrushes lined the bottom near the sinks. Discord checked his snaggletooth in the mirror.

"I was expecting something more along the lines of 'is this a dream'." he suggested

"No. I know it's not a dream." She rinsed her face and rubbed it in a towel.

"Oh? And how is that?"

"I only dream in third person. And dreams feel weird. Surreal," she said, wetting a brush and fixing her pixie cut.

"How peculiar. Well, my dear, I can't assure you you're not schizophrenic, but I can attest to the fact that I am not a hallucination."

"Rule one of schizophrenia: Never believe anything the voices tell you."

He drew a pouting face as she returned to her bedroom, now much more cool and collected. "So, what does the spirit of chaos want with me? No, wait – how did you get here?"

"Being in prison for a thousand years is hazardously boring. So I started an imaginary world. It grew like a living thing, completely independent of me. You humans are so violent and chaotic without my help that I simply let it be. It was refreshing to watch you people fight all by yourselves. I didn't have to manipulate a single thing! But sometimes I did anyway, just for fun. I must take special credit for subatomic particles and quantum physics. Those were a delight to create." She took this all in without the teensiest shift from her calm and thoughtful expression. He commended her for that.

"Why are you telling me this so... readily?"

He waved a paw nonchalantly. "Because, unfortunately, I need you. As you well know, I have recently been re-imprisoned by the elements of harmony. My powers are weak. The longer I am confined in stone, the weaker they get. I still have enough power to create a flesh-and-blood pony, but not a mind for her. That's where you come in. You will go into the pony world and find a way to release me." Her eye twitched, displaying her agitation.

"So let me get this straight: I am a figment of your imagination. No, this whole world is a figment of your imagination. And you're going to put my mind in a pony's body, expecting me to free you from your prison?"

"Essentially, yes." He then conjured a cup of tea and sipped it, bracing himself for the inevitable outbreak of anger. Her eye twitch was becoming quite dangerous.

"Hmm… well, how do I put this… ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR BUCKING MIND!?"

"No, we are both nestled away, deep in its recesses. Haven't we already been over this?" Too fun.

"So you're going to take me away from the only life I've known, and I'm going to lose – everyone?" Her eyes started watering. Such dynamic emotions!

"Yes. Well, no. At first." Upon seeing her teary-eyed glare, he elucidated. "Until I am free, you will live exclusively in the pony world. When you liberate me, I will either turn you into an alicorn or reincarnate you, whichever you prefer, and reincarnate your human form. When you sleep in the ponyverse, I shall return you to this world. When you sleep in this universe, I shall return you to that world. If immortality becomes too much of a burden to bear, just a whisper in my ear will suffice. You may not think it now, but living forever is very lonely. But, my dear girl, if you ever conspire against me," his eyes turned red, brows curving angrily, and his light grin transformed into a snarl. He leaned closer menacingly. "You will wish you could die."

"I– U-Understood" she stuttered, eyes wide.

"Good." He returned to his relaxed state, once again sipping tea.

"Do I have a choice?"

"At this point? No. It would be too much of a bother to explain all this again."

Silence fell as she considered his offer. "Well, I can't say I haven't been dreaming of something like that ever since I started watching my little pony… It seems too good to be true, but… if I have no choice, I might as well like it. Fine. Just one more question."

"Ask away, darling."

"...Why me?"

Discord glanced at her warily. "If you expect me to say you're somehow special, you'll be sorely disappointed. You just happened to be the closest brony in the area that doesn't ship me with anyone. Writing a clopfic about Celestia and me, I ask you… (The girl cringed at the very idea) He's in for quite the surprise, I can tell you that."

Right on cue, a girly scream echoed through the street outside. Discord chuckled.

"So," he began, leafing through her sketchbook. "Who would you like to be as a pony?"

She thought for a moment, eyes focused on a faraway place. "The grey mare in my most recent drawing."

"Ah, yes. Excellent, excellent. So: recap. You get in there and free me. I believe you know how." At least, that's what he had surmised from her lack of questioning on that matter. A short nod from the girl confirmed this. "I then grant you eternal life. Agreed?"

"Agreed."

Paw met hand, and the world melted away.

This was going to be fun.

A/N: Whew! My first fanfic! I stayed up for far too long writing this. My fear of the dark gave me the idea. Basically, the first two paragraphs minus the last two sentences of the second are what happened. Then, inspiration struck! Which kind of sucks, because I'm really tired now. R&R!