Sombra The Highly Unmotivated

by naturalbornderpy

Chapter 1: Revenge... Later

Load Full Story Next Chapter

Even before I put my key through the slot, I could hear my TV blaring through the living room windows. I put my hand on the knob and, before entering my condo, made myself a promise.

“If he’s still on that same part of the damn couch, I’m going to strangle him.”

And, obviously, he was.

Sombra, the three and a half-foot tall pony that had inexplicably shot through my toaster some months ago to land in my kitchen, didn’t even turn his head as I entered.

He greeted me coolly. “Good evening, slave. I hope your time spent in the mine today was not too taxing on your frail human body.”

I shut my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose. I had left eight-and-a-half hours ago and the dark, depressing, and overall moody pony that wouldn’t leave my house had not moved a single inch since I saw him that morning.

I really shouldn’t have been surprised.

I jammed my keys on the hook. “Once again, it’s Steve. And secondly, I work at a call center. These are things you know already. And, also…”

Sombra didn’t take his eyes from the TV screen. Hovering below his head was one of my videogame controllers in a reddish aura that I still didn’t quite understand. At the moment he was playing one of my shooting games, giggling to himself each time he popped the head off an enemy. And to think I had thought it would be a good idea to teach him to play. At least it shut him up for short periods of time.

But that wasn’t what caught my attention at the moment.

“Are you wearing one of my sweatshirts?”

Sombra rolled his oddly-colored eyes. “Well, obviously. I don’t know how to work your cold weather enchanter and this place becomes chilly while you’re gone.” He glanced down to his chest. “I may have ripped a hole in it as well. Your clothes are far from horn-proof.”

“That’s also because they’re not made for talking ponies.”

Sombra paused the game to drink an open soda from the table. Scattered about were another half-dozen crushed and empty cans. “Someone should get on that, then. But more importantly, where is Friday’s edible disk of warm cheeses and meats? You return every Friday with it and now that is what I crave.”

I crossed over to the kitchen, a headache creeping on the horizon. “Pizza. It’s called ‘pizza,’ and I think you know that by now. And I didn’t pick it up because you and I need to have a chat. And I don’t think pizza’s all that good for ponies, anyways. I’m honestly surprised you’re not dead by now, given the amount of cheese you go through.”

Sombra shook his head. “It would take much more than painful indigestion to mark my end, Steve. I am immortal, if you hadn’t become aware of the fact. During my reign as King, I killed thousands and battled—”

I waved a hand at him. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’ve heard it all before. I think everyone would have a chance of living forever if they never moved from the couch. Is that honestly all you’ve done today?”

Sombra pursed his lips, slowly looking at all the empty chip bags and punctured drink cans circling his small spot on the couch. He said, “No. I’ve been quite busy, in fact. Before you arrived, I was conversing with other ‘virtual humans’ while removing their heads from their bodies. One of them—once he was systematically defeated and humiliated—even went as far as to insult my mother and question my sexuality.”

I opened my fridge, happy to find my ample supply of chilled beer close at hand. “And what did you say?”

Sombra giggled in that deep, cartoonish way that always made me wonder if he was faking. “I asked him how it felt to be torn asunder by a pony King.”

“Then what?”

“And after that he didn’t talk to me anymore.” He turned to me, a tad more elated. “But I also played that ‘human’ interaction game today.”

“Dating simulator.”

He smiled, showing fangs. “I’m about to breed with the fat one. Our offspring will be healthy and hardy, and once they are old enough we will join forces and rule that high school that mocks our awkward attempts at copulation and denies us our rightful place on their swimming team.”

I enjoyed the cold air from the fridge for a moment, before reaching for a beer. My hand went right through all six cans.

I sighed. “Did you drink all my beer again?”

Sombra snorted and wouldn’t face me. “What are you talking about, Steve? They’re right there in your cold box. Just go ahead and grab one.”

“They’re illusions. You replaced them with your… horn-thingy.”

He snorted again. “Maybe you should get some more, then? Along with that pizza you forgot to bring with you.”

I slammed the fridge door and stormed in front of the TV. I told him thickly, “That’s it. We’re talking. Right now.”

Sombra leaned to his side to look around me. “You’re blocking the image machine.”

Angrily, I flipped off the TV and yanked the cord attached to the headset Sombra was wearing around the ears. Once they were removed, his laughter died, and he glared at me with a deep-set frown.

Having swept each crumb and candy wrapper onto the already stained carpet, I sat on the opposite end of the couch. I told him, “Doing nothing all day is one thing, Sombra, but drinking all my beer—again—is when you start to piss me off. If greasy cheese hasn’t killed you yet, then beer will.”

Sombra crossed his forelegs together—something I was still confused a horse-like creature could do. “But I like your alcoholic beverage. It’s not as well refined as the wine in my kingdom, but it makes my head feel all fuzzy, just the same.”

I closed my eyes and put a finger to my temple. “So not only do I have a talking pony living on my couch rent free, but one that drinks all my beer while I’m away.”

“I don’t understand the problem, human slave.”


“Human Steve,” he corrected. “You can go buy more.”

I sighed. “That’s not the point. And stop calling me ‘your slave.’ That’s not how this works.”

He displayed a single fang. “Yet I sit here all day while you clean my home and bring me food. Are you sure you’re not my slave, Steve?”

I’d been down this line of looping conversation enough to see the warning signs. I pointed a finger at him. “You’re fat, Sombra. And lazy. And you need to get the hell off my couch and back to where you came from.”

Both of Sombra’s pupils shrunk as he ran two hooves along his stomach. “I’m not fat, you insipid fool! I’m merely preparing myself to destroy those that usurped me and banished me here.”

“By sitting on them?”

“I—” Sombra choked on some spit. He stared at me warily. “You know, Steve, if I wanted to, I could cave your head in like a rotten pumpkin.”

I shook my head. “Doing that would eject you from this place pretty fast.”

Sombra kept prodding his belly. “Well, maybe if you actually let me leave this shack of a castle every once in a while, I wouldn’t be in such a decrepit state.”

I said casually, “We tried that, remember? It was called ‘going for a walk.’”

He growled, “You put a leash on me.”

“That’s because there’s laws for that. And if walking around with Mike Tyson’s interchangeable dog wasn’t enough of an oddity, you tried talking to some people. You’re only lucky most people are dumb and they’d actually believe I was a ventriloquist.”

Sombra set his oversized head on a hoof. “I was only trying to converse with someone other than you. I’m sure if you’d let me explain my predicament to them, they would have understood and tried to help.”

“No. They would have called the authorities and I would have wound up on the news and you would have wound up in a zoo. Trust me. You don’t want that.”

He mumbled to himself, “Why does no one understand that I’m simply better than them?”

I put my feet up on the table, a tad apprehensive about the discussion to follow. “Somehow you landed in my kitchen through my toaster, Sombra, along with my burnt English muffin. For weeks on end you went off all crazy-like about how you were going to kill and maim a whole bunch of other colorful ponies with names like fruit drinks. And now, seven whole months later, you don’t mention going back to your home at all.” I picked up a dusty, leather bound text sitting on the coffee table. “And that’s after I spent one-hundred and twenty bucks on this book to get you out of my hair and back in wacky-pony-land.”


“Whatever.” I turned to him. “What happened to that tyrannical ruler that wanted nothing more than to enslave an entire race? What happened to that King that monologues his diabolical plans all night, even after I threw my alarm clock at him?” I motioned to the array of discarded snacks thrown about. “You’ve become lazy, Sombra. Now you need to buck up and move the hell out of my condo, because you’re munching yourself right through my rent money.”

“I told you I’d pay you back. I have a whole treasury under my castle.”

I shook my head. “I’m not interested in your pony bits with Princesses on them.”

Sombra pointed a leg at that old spell book I was holding. “How do we know that even works? For all we know, it could send me anywhere!”

I shut my eyes, once again wondering if the absurd price of steel muzzles from the local pet store could possibly be worth the hole in my bank account.

I said slowly, “We tested it, remember? We sent one of my coffee cups through the portal and it came back far more colorful and cheerful than a cup has any right to be. I’m sure it’s the right place.”

Sombra swallowed dryly, his frown edging into a pout. He hitched in a breath. “But I don’t want to leave, human Steve.” He turned to me with a faint shimmer in both eyes, more adorable than any murderous ex-overload should be. “I like it here. It so much warmer here than in my icy kingdom, and the food is so much better. And you have meat! And your image machine is so much fun and now the only things I need to worry about governing over are this small house and you, of course.”

“I am not your slave.”

He snickered. “Go ahead and keep telling yourself that.”

As well as annoyed, now I was mad. “I don’t care if you’re comfy, Sombra. Of course you’re comfy. You live on a bloody couch twenty-four hours a day. You need to leave.”

“But…” Sombra glanced around the living room with rising dismay. “What of the stories we watch? The Badly Breaks and the House of Thrones?”

I counted on my fingers. “First off: It’s Breaking Bad. Secondly: it’s House of Cards and Game of Thrones. Thirdly: I don’t care if you watch another second of any of that.”

Sombra’s chin quivered. “But I need to know if that bald mineral human ever finds his minerals. And what happens to that human that became ruler of all other humans by rightfully silencing and destroying those that got in his way. He became King! I related to him.”

“Well, sorry to tell you, Mr. Couch Potato, but two of those shows won’t be finished for years. One of them, considering the author might die at any moment, who the hell knows when.”

Sombra stood up on the couch proudly, several knees popping from the sudden move. “Then it is settled, human Steve. I will remain in your home until these enjoyable tales are told to competition. And, perhaps, after we view them a single time more, I will leave. I’m glad we’ve come to an agreement, you and I.”

I pulled him back to the couch. “That’s not how this works. You leave, and I get my sanity back.”

Sombra fretfully tapped his hooves together. “Umm… but how do you know I’m not only a part of your subconscious, Steve? Perhaps your twisted and warped mind created me to torment you forever for the sins of your fathers, and also to sleep on your couch.”

“Because I can do this.”

I poked his nose. Repeatedly.

His crossed eyes stared at my invasive finger. “Stop that!”

I wiped my finger on the edge of the couch. “You’re real, pony boy. Real enough to move out.”

He leaned closer to me, adding an eerie glow behind both red and green eyes. “But is that truly what you want, Steve? If I leave, you will be alone in this world. Doesn’t that scare you? Frighten you? Are you not afraid of having no one else around?”

I pushed his head away from me. “We’ve been through this. Your fear mumbo-jumbo doesn’t really do all that much anymore. You scared me out of the house at three in the morning once to get burgers because I thought I was about to die, so don’t think I’ll be falling for that again.”

Grabbing my expensive spell book from the table, I left the couch and went to the kitchen. Then I stood in front of the toaster that had brought my annoying roommate into the world. It still worked, too. “No more talk. Come here and we’ll send you back.”

Sombra hitched in another breath, eyes desperately searching the small room. “But… Steve…”

I ignored him and flipped open the text. “No more ‘buts,’ Sombra. I’ve seen your naked butt enough around my place and dealt with enough clogged shower drains to last me a lifetime and a half. The free ride’s over, my friend.”

I ran a finger down the page I’d dog-eared before, then I practiced a few of the trickier incantation words out loud. What stopped me was an odd sound coming from the living room.

I looked away from my book. “Are you crying?”

“No.” Sombra sniffled and looked away from me. “I’ve only become suddenly allergic to your garments.”

He sniffled again and I rolled my eyes. Painfully, I pried myself from the kitchen and again sat beside him on the couch.

Sombra hastily rubbed at his eyes before he slumped onto my side. Once there, he nudged his head into my arm.

I looked down. “What are you doing now?”

He nudged me again. “I want you to scratch my head, human Steve. Your words have greatly wounded me today and when that lady in the park scratched my head, I remember it felt good.”

“That’s called ‘petting,’ Sombra. And the one time I tried to do that, you bit me and I had to go to the emergency room.”

He wouldn’t stop nudging me. “That’s because you didn’t have permission and weren’t doing it right. But now you do. So make me feel better, slave.”

I ignored the latest barb, hopeful to send him on his way soon enough. Grabbing a handful of dark mane, I scratched him behind the ears as he continued to pout into my side.

He said quietly, “You might not know this, Steve, but it hurts to blow up. A lot. A blinding white light tore me into a thousand tiny pieces and everyone was happy about it. It was like they made me the bad guy or something. All I wanted was to enslave the world and have everyone bend to my will and work in my crystal mines. Was that too much to ask of them?”

I remained silent on the topic of colorful pony genocide.

He rubbed his head into my side, spreading tears and snot in abundance. “What happens if I go back and don’t win? I don’t want to blow up again, Steve. And I know they all hate me there, and I hate them, too—each and every one of those stupid mares and that stupid unicorn couple and that stupid heart and that stupid dragon.”

I was sure it would have all made sense if I had been there.

He stared up at me with tear-stained cheeks. “I’m not ready to face them again, Steve. I don’t want to lose. I don’t want to be universally hated again. It’s safe here. It’s warm and everything makes sense and there’s beer in the fridge sometimes. You don’t hate me, do you?”

I thought about that for a moment.

He continued, “I’m sick of being hated, Steve. It takes its toll on even the most valiant of stallions.”

I chewed on my tongue. “I don’t completely hate you, Sombra. No. I guess not.”

He looked at me again, extending his lower lip. “So you’ll let me stay on your couch?”

My heart lurched and my right eye twitched. If Sombra was considered one of the uglier ponies in his world, I doubted many humans would survive a single encounter with one of the actual adorable ones.

I grimaced. “Only for a little while longer, okay? Because once you figure out what you plan on doing once back in Equestria, you need to be getting out of here. Sound fair?”

He nodded. “Indeed it does.” Then he got up off the couch and removed the tears from his face. “So, how about that pizza, then? I don’t believe it will be getting itself anytime soon, Steve. If you need me, I’ll be on my throne.”

“You mean the toilet.”

“Throne!” he yelled back as he walked down the hall.

Over the next few minutes I sat, wondering once more how to potentially remove my unwanted houseguest. Coming away with little to nothing, I went to my laptop and rechecked the current prices of steel muzzles.

Just my luck—there was even a deal this week.

Author's Notes:

What is this now, my fifth Sombra story? (Sixth with the other account.) Seems like I have a Sombra-dependency problem. I'll make sure to look into that... later.

Next Chapter: Apologies... Later Estimated time remaining: 5 Hours, 21 Minutes
Return to Story Description


Login with