This Document comes from a stallion by the name of Trail Blazer. This small collection of papers was found underneath a gallows, with said stallion's corpse hanging above it.

From information we have gathered, we can tell that Trail Blazer was a stallion that accepted Dainn's rule. He had no qualms with mares being tortured and humiliated to insanity. Whether this was due to thoughts before or after Lord Dainn conquered Equestria is unknown.

This document was most likely written around the time the infection first appeared. Whether his death was caused by Bloodshot [Infected Mare] actions or his own mental state decaying is unknown.

To any mares who have been under Dainn's law: please do not read this document if you find misogynistic terms triggering.
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In Lord Dainn’s name… it was supposed to be a routine day! I was just gonna fuck a red collar or two, maybe a black collar if could be assed, and drink for a bit! Here I was thinking that maybe this day was going to be normal… eat, fuck, drink, go to bed, repeat… but no. The end of the fucking world as we knew it had to happen today!

I’ve seen some nasty fucking shit today. I literally lost my drive to fuck after what I saw, can you imagine!? I need to calm down.. but you’ve got to know. If you haven’t already seen it, then only me telling you can prepare you for what I saw.

It happened at some pink bakery, I don’t remember the name. I was dragging a red collar in so she could give me some head, nothing special. She was halfway done when something seemed off. I was too busy ramming her face to recognize it at first, but after a while… the smell… I smelled something like iron in the air. It started to distract me from my fucking, so I looked out the window. I thought maybe some slave was lugging some scrap around, or maybe anything else than what I saw. I looked out the window… for the love of everything… I hope I never have to see it again..

There was a mare, a red collar, to be exact. I saw a stallion below her, which was the oddest thing I had seen that week, to be honest.
Then it got worse; much, much worse than a bitch standing above a stallion.

Her eyes… they were bloodshot, and droplets of blood dribbled from them like red tears, but she was smiling, and the stallion was making some disgusting gurgling noises. I looked.. and it turned out that the bitch tied a knife to her crotch and was face-fucking him with it. The blade of it poked out the back of his head, and at the moment all I could think was that at least it was quick.
I would’ve thrown up, I wouldn’t even care about fucking at that point, I didn’t want her to find me and decide to go for the rear instead of the front, but instead I swallowed my lunch and just screamed for the guards. I yelled as loudly as I could for any caribou to come in and just stab the bitch in the head. I would’ve even told them not to fuck her, if it weren’t for the fact that I then saw a caribou being stabbed to death with his own antlers not too far away, while a black collar and red collar with the same bleeding eyes ripped off one of another caribou’s legs while the other bit down on his crotch.

The mare that had the knife on her crotch looked right at me, dropping the stallion, just letting the knife slide out from his head. When she saw my face, her smile just grew wider and her eyes started bleeding more, getting redder, and she started stroking the knife with her hoof, making it draw blood.

“C’mere pretty boy, let me fuck your face! I want to love you till you bleed!” Her tone was scratchy and beckoning as she charged for the window. I closed it tightly, and she smacked right into it, slamming her head against the cracking glass. She got up on some nearby wooden boxes and started humping the widow, her knife breaking it with ease. The mare that was blowing me was nowhere to be found, I guessed she just ran at the first sign of danger. I don’t know what happened to her, and frankly, I don’t care how good of a fuck she was, I wanted out.

I just ran. I ran out of the bakery as fast as my legs would carry me. Then I realized what really was going on. I saw the hell that opened up outside. I don’t know why the fuck it started happening, but it made me realize how things can go from a weird smells to complete hell in a matter of seconds.

Have you ever seen six mares all trying to stick their hooves inside a dying soldier’s ass as he begs for mercy? Have you seen a red collared mare playing in her master’s blood? Have you seen a black collared mare; burning herself alive while smiling and remaining silent? Have you seen urethral toothpick rape? Well I have. All in that one moment of chaos and sickness.

I saw a red collared mare go up to a small cage with a few slaves in it, still begging for cock like good whores should, she opened the cage, and touched one. That’s all it took. Not a second after the bleeding mare touched her, her eyes began to bleed, and she proceeded to gallop out of the cage, pick up a discarded bottle, and smash it into the face of an unwary stallion. I don’t know what the hell this is... virus, radiation, wrath of some unknown god… but whatever it is, it’s contagious. Apparently, stallions who get it aren’t so lucky, however.

I saw a black collar with bloodshot eyes; smiling a toothy, blood-stained grin, and she bit down on a stallion that was just trying to run away. Hell, he probably didn’t care about fucking either, poor bastard. She bit him in the shoulder and tore away a pretty good chunk of meat, but that wasn’t what made me sick.

The stallion’s eyes began to drip blood, like the mare’s, but that wasn’t where it stopped. His ears, his mouth, his nose, and his lower body (which end, I don’t know, nor do I want to) began to leak blood. All I could think about in that moment was his scream. He probably would’ve been begging for someone to stab him in the head if it hadn’t been for the fact that he was choking on his own blood. The mare just watched him, giggling as she just watched as he suffered. She had no intent to make him end quickly, that much was clear from her insanity as she searched around for some other stallion to kill in the same way as the bleeding one’s skin began to split open, like rotting wallpaper, and he just sat, crying in pain as he basically melted into a puddle of blood on the dirt path, a grim taste of what this really was.

I didn’t even care about helping him. I didn’t want to touch the mare, I didn’t want to help the caribou fight, I didn’t care about anypony, not even myself! I think in that moment, for a split second I hoped that maybe something would smack my head in and end me right there, but something gave me a burst of speed and I just ran away. I ran for my life, shutting my eyes as I listened to the pained screams and maniacal laughter of the bleeding mares, and I just kept running until the screaming was far in the distance.

If there’s one thing this event has taught me, it’s that no matter how much I talk; I am a damned coward, no matter what any red collar or stallion says. I just left my drinking buddies, my mares… everything to die or lose their minds in that flood of madness and blood. I just laid my head against a tree near the side of a ditch on some dirt path I had ran out on of town and tried not to breathe too loudly, hoping that maybe the crazed mares weren’t smart enough to go out of town once they ran out of ponies in Ponyville. It was wishful thinking; damn wishful thinking for something I thought might’ve been a sickness. In my moment of panic, something I hadn’t felt in a long time, I was thinking that this shit would be around the world in a matter of minutes. Every collared mare you could ever want to fuck would be out for your blood, and if she so much as scratched you, you’d melt into a pile of blood and bones. This wasn’t a nightmare, or a weird event we’d try to forget over the years as we kept finding more mares to fuck…

This was the end of the world.

[It should be noted that this document was found with a few spots where sweat or tears had stained the paper in certain areas. Fortunately, the text was still legible.]
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When I got my act together, I found out that I was close to a forest. I was pretty well hidden, I guessed, where I was, and for a while, I felt like I should just stay in this spot until the armies rolled in to clean this up. I knew that was too hopeful, probably stupid as well, so as soon as I could manage, I forced myself up onto the road and went away from Ponyville. There was no blood or laughter nearby, so I assumed that the massacres stopped and if I hurried, maybe I could warn the nearest town of the shitstorm that was on its very merry way to fuck up our lives. I could still smell blood, so I did anything but stop for what felt like hours as I traveled down that lonely dirt path.

Loneliness was something I hadn’t felt since Lord Dainn showed up. Whenever I was awake, it was in constant company. A mare in the bed at dawn, a drinking buddy later that afternoon, and some red collar that night. Never had I felt so alone than when I was on that path. I could’ve been the last living stallion in Equestria in that moment, and it wouldn’t have mattered. My legs kept aching, but I was going with the assumption that with a town full of psychotic murderers with a taste for death behind me, there wasn’t exactly a reason to rest. My hopes were reassured when I came across a caravan, but it wasn’t soon after seeing it that any hope of sane ponies to tell of this evil was crushed.

The caravan had a sign on its end. It was some mobile brothel, but some crazy mare must have painted over it with blood, making it read; “Al’s wh-BLOODY COCKBITE CARAVAN.”

It was nothing but a bloodstain on something I used to enjoy seeing, and a peer at the insides revealed nothing but bent bars, a few skeletons, and a still-intact corpse stuck to the inside of the caravan with what looked like a piece of rebar lodged in its skull. I must’ve missed the mares while I was hiding in the ditch; at least that was my guess, because bloody hoofprints led to the direction I was heading.

I pondered for a moment if I should even go further, or just turn back. Those mares, if they were as far ahead as I thought they were, were probably already attacking the nearest town. If I went back to Ponyville, it might’ve been one massive slaughterhouse, but it was probably abandoned by the crazy mares, which I had guessed had moved on to try and find more things to kill. Maybe I couldn’t warn any others, but perhaps I could try to not be killed violently for maybe a week or so, until the madness had spread throughout the continent, and they would probably come back to pick up the pieces they left behind.

At least that was my most hopeful thought. I knew somehow, no matter what any soldier I found would probably say, this isn’t going to get better. How long until this… disease spreads to Canterlot and millions of bloodshot mares lay siege to the place and slaughter every living thing in it, including Lord Dainn? How long until whatever stand there was to take is left leaderless and with little men to make it? How long until there are is no such thing as a quick fuck, nor any mares to make it with?

When I try not to be so poetic about it, I suppose what I’m asking is how long I have until I’m dead, like that corpse in the caravan or the stallion I watched melt?

No. No I can’t think like this. I should just see if I can pry the rebar from the caravan and beat any infected mare I find to death. I might die now, but I’m not dying a whimpering coward. I’ll go out like the fucking caribou wish they could.

It took some work, but I was able to work the rebar out of the corpse in the caravan. It was bent, but it would hopefully do until I found something better. Those mares probably stole a lot of tools and weapons to have their fun with, so it’ll take some looking. I should probably be ready to dig through a lot of corpses to find what I need.

It’s about mid-day. I can’t hear any laughter or screaming, so I think I’ll be out of harm’s way long enough to explain that this is probably going to be my last entry in this journal for a bit. I’ve got some shit to do, and not a lot of time to do it.

Let’s see; priorities. I need to find something better than some rebar to defend myself if a mare comes at me with a machete, or Dainn-forbid, a knife tied to her crotch.

I’ll have to see if there’s any maps in Ponyville. Maybe I can see where to go from here if I can figure out where the mares went. If they went north, I’ll head south, and vice versa. Before you, the finder of this diary belonging to some corpse found torn in half, think that I, a simple stallion with a will to live, will try to support a fight against this, think again. I had enough of a change in my life when I saw a stallion melt and a mare being the cause of it, I’m not dedicating who knows how many years of my life to seeing it again.

I’m gonna try to find some place that these mares avoided. Hell yeah I’ll warn them, but then I’ll just keep moving. I’ll gallop to the ends of this world if it means I can avoid this for the rest of my life. Just a normal life, that’s all I ask for…

Stop. You’re being poetic again, Trail Blazer.

If I’m lucky, maybe I’ll never have to see those things again. If I’m not, I’ll die horribly. Well, time to head back to that place that almost made me want to kill myself.

Wish me luck, I suppose.

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Well, went back to Ponyville. Wasn’t as bad as I thought. In fact, it was about six times worse.

Yeah, it was abandoned, but I figured that maybe the screaming stopped because the mares decided to move on, not because of… this.

I found a makeshift gallows set up in the town square, with a pile of stallion’s bodies not too far from it. Seventeen stallions in total hung from the ropes, but they were too disfigured for me to even try to recognize them. Their eyes were nowhere to be found, their cutie marks were ripped from their flesh, hell, a few even had their teeth ripped out and scattered across the ground.

What made it worse, however, was one simple fact.

Every one of them had a single cut in their neck. It was precise on each one, as far as I could tell, to cut their vocal chords. There was a bright pink bandage placed on each one, some had fallen to the ground or were hanging by one end.

Those bitches had made sure that they died in the most horrible way possible. Choking, being ripped apart, melting, being stabbed and cut, and they weren’t even able to scream for help.

I didn’t even bother looking for weapons. There’s no point. My hooves are drenched with the blood of pretty much anypony that didn’t make it out alive, mares are probably out right now, killing and infecting everypony that I know, and everything I know is going to be killed or turned into a blood-obsessed monster. I’m not sticking around to watch it.

One of the stallions was not hung. He had his head chopped off before they could hang him. It looks about my size. There’s a bit of a drop beneath this section of the gallows. If I’m lucky, the fall will be swift and it’ll break my neck before I feel a thing.

If you find this diary, whether it’s in a few hours or maybe even a few years, if you’re sane enough to read this, get the hell away from here.

There’s nothing left in this town that’s worth saving.

I can hear them. In the buildings. All around me. They’re watching me. They want me to do it. I can hear them scraping their weapons against metal. If I don’t do it soon, they’re going to make sure that my death isn't painless. They're giggling... oh Dainn their laughter is fucking unbearable...

They’re waiting for me. They want a show. They want to see me die before they’ll ever stop giggling.

Who am I to disappoint a mare?

Author's Notes:

Aaaaaand that's the end of Document One!

This is an idea I've wanted to experiment with ever since I discovered the Fall of Equestria universe

While you're reading this, I thought I might answer two questions that I think might've popped into your head.

1. Is this just meant to attack the Fall of Equestria universe?

-No. Not at all. If I hated it that much, I wouldn't deem it worthy enough to write about. While I can say the concept is /sort of/ interesting, considering myself a male feminist and supporting feminist ideals, I can't quite say reading this made me want to leap around in joy, although it wasn't just a poorly written fanfic series. It wouldn't have gotten so popular if there wasn't something good about it, I suppose.

That being said, this is a little bit of catharsis on my part. When I read about what they do to mares, I sometimes feel like I'm about to shake. At least I'm getting some sort of emotional response instead of just not being surprised because I think it's just a shock and awe thing that the writers thought up in 2 minutes.

That's another story for another time though. Despite my mixed ideas about the universe, I will respect the writers of the fanfiction. Be aware that I'm not trying to attack you or the Fall of Equestria universe, but if you want me to take it down, I will respect your wishes.

2. Will you continue this (If I don't think it sucks)?

That depends, honestly. This was just an idea I wanted to toy with a little. However, if it gets popular, I might write about it a little more, I do have some ideas... muahaha.

Thank you for reading!

~Senor Butter.