Document two was a piece of paper found in the ruins of ponyville, not too far from Document one. It belonged to a mare named Starlit Sky, a dehorned unicorn who might've been the cause of the outbreak in Ponyville. The cause of her infection and the possibility of her being patient zero are still being investigated.

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Hello there. I am Starlit Sky.

I was once a lowly mare, chained in a black collar by those bastards, the caribou, and their fuckhead stallions who just accepted what they were given.

I was once a sex slave, constantly used to just get rid of lust, and considered nothing more than a plaything.

But this morning, something happened. I can’ exactly remember, but the last thing I can remember before I had this horrible itch in my eyes was taking a folding chair and bashing my owner’s head in with it.

Holy shit… I don’t know why, but that’s the first reason I had to smile in a long time. For some reason, just watching him beg; “Oh, please! Don’t hit me anymore! I’ll let you-“ Blah blah blah. I made sure he didn’t come back.

Turns out a lot of mares think the same way. After my itch, I felt this bad urge to just… touch other mares. It was a very alien feeling, but I just thought that maybe it would help me calm myself. I went into some cages into a barn and found the red collars, all asking why I was unchained and covered in blood. Dumb, dumb whores before I touched them. I simply ran my hoof through one’s hair and all else followed.

It was rather frightening at first, watching blood begin to dribble from her eyes, and soon all the others who had touched her, but then… I didn’t think so poorly of them. I took the padlock off of the holding cell and when they stepped out… they didn’t look like a bunch of shy mares hoping for a nice fucking. They looked like fucking warriors about to have their bloodlust quenched. None of them said a word as they smiled and found their way into a barnyard and gathered up some tools; such as sickles, plows, and whatever tools that they could fashion into a weapon, they gathered and readied themselves.

I had no clue what they had planned, but boy did I feel excited. It was strange what happened next…

They started getting loud. Laughter, loudly kissing, breaking some barrels, and a few just started screaming. I had no idea what they were trying to accomplish, so I just sat on some hay bales.

As one may think, it wasn’t too long before the barn doors opened, a few stallions appeared, brandishing a few leashes and one had an electric vibrator. Fucking idiotic bastard.

“What are you doing outside of your cages? Get back there, you dumb cunts.” The one with the vibrator said, expecting us to just agree and move back.

That was before a red-collar came up, quickly bringing up a scythe blade and splitting his chest open, spraying herself with blood and quickly leading the others into a maelstrom of viscera. The other stallions tried to run, but a mare tossed out some ropes, tripping them up for the rest of us to catch.

Holy hell, if biting into their necks and listening to them scream as we feasted on their savory flesh wasn’t the most amazing experience you can get, I don’t know what is. We all fed on their meat… they had used us as tools for years, making us into nothing, sex objects and workers, and nothing. They had us by the neck; and then we were nothing but our prey. They tried to fight back, but it felt like little breezes compared to what we did to them. I ENJOYED watching them die. That’s the first time I’ve said that in my life, and I damn well don’t regret it.

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So it’s afternoon now. We fucked up the town near the farm pretty damn well. Got into the brothels and turned them into slaughterhouses. Took the mares in the streets and let them feel what it was like to taste blood. We let the stallions taste our wrath, and they felt it.

On a quick side note, diary; I’ve noticed something interesting.

For some reason, the red collars always come to me and the other black collars for help; where to go next, asking for weapons, and the like. I don’t know why they’re doing it, but it’s nice to have somepony bowing at MY hooves for once. Stallions can go fuck themselves with their own severed dicks; I like leading an army of goddamned MAN-SLAYERS. They were so fucking focused on screwing our brains out that they didn’t even have a weapon ready, anyway. We slaughtered them. Any stallion in this town is either dead or ran away, like the pussy I saw who ran away after he saw what happens when we bite a stallion and don’t kill them. I bet I’ll see him again.

I can’t explain why, but I LOVE this feeling I’m getting, looking at the lovely hot mess we’ve made of this madhouse. There’s no stallions left here, so every mare has gathered in the center of the town, and all the black collars are yelling the same thing.

“Canterlot! Canterlot! Canter-fucking-lot!”

I bet Lord Dainn and his sex-crazed soldiers won’t even know what hit them.
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Document three is a video recording

Snippet of Radio broadcast after day two of outbreak:
“Good evening, gentlemen. I’m Titanic Hammer, bringing you the news of Equestria. As I’m sure most of you are aware, hordes of mares infected with the “Bloodshot Virus” have begun invading Canterlot yesterday. Soldiers were shocked at the attacks, but with the combined efforts of the Caribou military and the stallion reserves, we can guarantee the safe escape of anypony in Canterlot. “

The peach colored earth pony news stallion shifts a few papers around, looking at what the next news snippet was.

“In a related story, an unnamed stallion; a possible member of the resistance, has been taken in for questioning, and it is believed that he has possible relations to the outbreak. Other information cannot be disclosed at this time.”

He shifts a few papers around, putting on a smile before continuing.

“In local news, resident bitch Cake Batter has taken the grand prize for the bi-monthly…”

The stallion stops, removing his glasses, along with his smile, before crumpling up the paper and tossing it away. He gets up from his seat, trotting to the camera and taking it off of its stand before taking it into a maintenance closet, closing the door. He sets the camera on a box and faces it towards himself before turning on a light and sitting on another box, taking a few breaths before speaking again.

“I wish I could tell you something more important, but we have a particular deal here at the news. A well-oiled machine. The main purpose of that machine is: ‘keeping the public calm.’ “

He says the last phrase in a sarcastic tone before continuing.

“I tell you whatever Lord Fuckhead wants you to think, and you consider it the truth. You guys eat this shit up if it strokes your ego or your feelings of safety hard enough! Nopony is opening their FUCKING EYES!”

He kicks a nearby camera tripod down before continuing his tangent.

“Our way of life is ripping apart our populace, and rapidly depleting our world of very vital natural resources, and you all couldn’t be FUCKING happier! COME ON! WAKE UP! WE WANT YOU TO BE SCARED!”

The stallion collects himself slowly. Muffled laughter and galloping is heard from behind the door. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. He removes his suit to reveal an insignia on his foreleg, a symbol of half of the moon and half of the sun together. It should be known to the uninformed that this was the unofficial symbol of the resistance at the time.

“I’m part of the force trying to tear this garbage system apart. I can tell you with my last breath, which I’m sure it will be, that we had nothing to do with this. Our governing body would tell us if they were going to pull a stunt like this. You know what I think? This message goes to you, Dickhead Dainn.”

He stands up, looking at the door before continuing.

“This isn’t some biological weapon made by the resistance, or some control spell gone wrong. You know what I think it is? I think it’s Equestria; saying that she’s, had, enough.”

"You think that Canterlot is safe from the infection? This station is on the outer edge of Canterlot. They're already here. Some caribou soldiers threatened to kill me if I didn't make this broadcast. Fuck them. They're probably already dead. If you're wondering why this broadcast hasn't been cut off the air, it's because I'm the only one here that isn't dead or infected. If you're watching this, get out of Canterlot. Hell, get out of Equestria. Staying and fighting won't be worth it in a matter of minutes, once the infected get to the brothels."

He takes in a gulp of air, and sweat is now visible on his forehead.

“Now back to what I was saying; Equestria’s telling you, Dainn; you dangerous, sexist, perverted, cockhole, that if you don’t stop what you’re doing; turning mares into slaves and sexualizing every part of our lives, that this is all you’ve got coming for you.”

He turns to the door, pausing for a moment before singing the Equestrian anthem as loudly as he can. Three mares burst through the door and begin beating and slashing at him, although he continues to sing until he cannot. A mare looks at the camera and smiles before joining in. The footage continues for another forty minutes, with nothing but the sound of meat tearing, before the three mares exit the room and the footage cuts to black.

Author's Notes:

There we go! Documents 2 & 3. Sorry that these weren't as long as the first, but I'm getting a bit of writer's block.

Expect Documents 4 & maybe a few more in the future. Laters!

-Senor Butter