A man went to Comicon in cosplay and things proceed about as you may have expected, given such an introduction and site you are reading this on. You know the tropes, you know the routine, but this time our man will end up as neither a king nor a queen. For one, he was not an ordinary fellow, and he wasn't wearing something outlandish, or absurd.

In fact, it was one of the plainest, least complicated outfits there, being little more than some regular-looking clothes, and a rather out-of-date hairstyle. Max Jenke was the character’s name, and he was from a rather obscure eighties horror wherein he killed people with a cleaver. In fact, his alias was so tied to his signature weapon that it was simply, ‘meat cleaver’.

The film itself that spawned him was mediocre at best, and his motivations were about as deep as a kiddy pool. Yet our man liked him, or more specifically, liked dressing up as characters no one had ever heard about. It was a running joke slash challenge amongst his friends to figure out who he was, but without his trusty cleaver, he couldn't meet them on the floor.

So when someone wearing a rather well-put-together outfit of the merchant from resident evil approached and offered to sell him the piece he needed, our man took it without thinking. It hadn't cost very much, and he had been so relieved that he hadn't even thought about the vague way the vendor talked. Only when the world started to fade to black did the man wonder why the merchant had put so much emphasis on the phrase… “A weapon makes a man”.

As his life flashed before his eyes, the cosplayer wondered what the next life would look like. He never would have guessed that he would find out so soon.

Pinkie Pie hummed happily as she brought the heavy cleaver down on the long, thin red rope before her. The bladed tool cut straight through the mass, severing into two equally as long segments. Which Pinkie Pie took, and carefully laid out once more, the pony pausing to inspect her work a little closer.

She hadn't worked with hard candy very often, but she was thankful the Cakes had given her such a heavy knife to work with. Even slightly soft, it was still difficult to chop the candy into the right sized pieces while also ensuring the white center remained. She wasn't one to give up though, especially after she had been given the job specifically by her boss, Mrs. Cake.

“How's it going back there?” called a familiar voice.

Pinkie Pie smiled and glanced over to where the smiling face of Mrs. Cake had emerged from the front half of the bakery. The mare was clearly a little tired but was soldiering on regardless, intent on feeding the lunch crowd that had begun to descend on them.

“Pretty good,” Pinkie Pie replied. “I really need to practice more though. This stuff is hard to work with.”

“Yeah sorry about that Pinkie Pie. Old man Burnt Willow is the only one who buys those but he's been such a dear over the years and with his wife having gone missing I thought some candy might cheer him up,” Mrs. Cake explained.

“Gale Force is missing? I haven't heard about that,” Pinkie Pie murmured.

“The poor dear went for a solo hike in the whitetail woods the other night and never came back,” Mrs. Cake whispered, taking a step into the back. “They were trying to organize a search party but with the commotion up in Canterlot it's been hard to get enough guards together.”

“Oh that's right,” Pinkie Pie muttered, only to perk up. “You don't think that's why Mr. Cake is late, is it?”

“I don't know Pinkie,” Mrs. Cake admitted. “All I know is that after those big nasty clouds popped up over Canterlot, everything's been going to heck in a handbasket.”

Pinkie Pie smiled and hefted her cleaver. “Oh, I’m sure everything will be alright.”

“I sure hope so. Carrot was supposed to be back with that special order last night already,” Mrs. Cake murmured.

“I’m sure that if we focus on the job, he’ll be here in no time!” Pinkie Pie proclaimed.

Mrs. Cake’s eyes went wide. “Oh, you’re right. I should get back to the front.”

“Try and relax!” Pinkie Pie called, waving the weapon at her boss’ backside.

Once the other mare was gone, Pinkie Pie sighed, and dropped the cleaver, severing the twin lengths of candy. She left the knife there, stuck slightly into the cutting board, and wandered over to the back window. The pony craned her neck as far to the left as she could and gazed at the distant donut-shaped ring of midnight black clouds hovering over Canterlot.

Strange red lightning arced in, and around the twisting mass, illuminating the otherwise pleasant day in a straight light. Stranger still was the cloud itself, which moved more like a fluid, or perhaps some form of non-newtonian mass. Twisting, and undulating, it had only a passing resemblance to a natural cloud.

“I sure hope your okay Mr. Cake, and Twilight too,” Pinkie Pie whispered to herself.

The pony sighed, and turned back around, making her way back to her workstation, intent on finishing her job. As she walked, she noticed that the cleaver had gained a dark red gleam to it, though Pinkie Pie ignored it as just a reflection of the lightning. Reaching down, she gripped the handle and was surprised when a powerful bolt of electricity arced up her limb.

The smell of burnt fur filled the room, and her mane stuck straight up in the air like she had used a gallon of gel. Weirder yet, the backs of her eyes itched, her bones ached, and her entire body experienced a strange twitch. The pulse was akin to all of her Pinkie senses going off at the same time, only somehow even worse than that.

Then it was over, and she was left lying on the ground, the cleaver still gripped tight in her hoof. Confused, but unharmed, Pinkie Pie inspected the weapon for what felt like the very first time.

It had, at one point, been used for cutting meat, or so she had been told, but it had been almost a decade since then. There were no knicks, or marks left from its time as a butcher’s utensil, as it had been refurbished after the old griffon who used to own it had retired. It hadn't tasted blood in a long time, yet even now, Pinkie Pie swore she could smell the coppery aroma lingering on the metal blade.

Large, flat, and as thick as her hoof, the edge was well maintained. It had sliced through hard candy, and into the chopping block with little effort after all. Now though, it looked even sharper still, as if it were able to cleave even bone or possibly even steel with relative ease.

The simple circle cut out of the end seemed normal, as did the slightly curved back edge of the blade. Which on the sharp side, came forward over the handle an inch or so, acting almost like a hand guard, albeit not a very good one. The handle itself was made from redwood, and six gold studs held the entire thing together.

Altogether it seemed a bit intimidating, it was still just a normal, everyday knife, just a little big and with an odd past. Until Pinkie Pie gazed a little harder at the metal end, and she noticed something moving within it. Hands pressed against the inside, revealing that some formless crimson bipedal entity was trapped within the blade.

“Ahhh!” Pinkie Pie shouted, tossing the knife away.

Or at least that's what she tried to do, as instead of clattering to the ground, the thing just disappeared. Looking around, Pinkie Pie tried to locate it, yet no matter how hard she searched, the knife couldn't be found. She wished she could find it, as she didn't want anyone to step on it.

The moment the thought occurred to her, her right forehoof bulged and extended, the extra mass quickly twisting into the shape of the cleaver. The weapon then solidified, becoming separate from her, yet still connected in a way that Pinkie Pie couldn't explain. As she stood there, heart rate spiking, Pinkie Pie tried to think of some explanation or someone who could figure this out for her.

Then, the door to the bakery opened with enough force to break the glass pane built into it. Pinkie Pie’s panic was replaced with concern, and she awkwardly hopped up on three legs while gripping the cleaver. Glancing to the forefront of the store, she saw Mr. Cake had appeared, though he was injured, quite badly too.

“Cup Cake, where are you, Cup Cake!” he shouted, blood dripping down from a hole where one of his eyes had been.

“I’m here dear. Oh goodness, you’re hurt, what happened?” Cup Cake exclaimed. “Is there a doctor around here?”

The bakery patrons took a step back, mumbling amongst themselves as they tried to seek out someone to help. Their search didn't last long, as Carrot intervened, slamming a hoof against a nearby table and getting everyone’s attention.

“No, that doesn't matter now! Everyone has to listen to me! They are coming, and you have to run!” He shouted, gesturing wildly in the direction of Canterlot.

“But you’re hurt,” Cup Cake whispered, stepping towards her husband.

“No, get away!” Carrot shouted, pushing the mare back. “I’m infected, it's too late for me! Just get the kids and head as far away from Canterlot as you can.”

“Hey now, what are you talking about there, son? Who's coming?” asked an elderly stallion.

“The demons! They got the princesses, and the guard is barely holding them off!” Carrot yelled, spittle flying from his mouth. “If you see one, run, don't bother trying to fight them, nothing seems to keep them down for long.”

“Demons? That sounds like a load of hogwash to me,” muttered another patron.

Carrot Cake’s skull bulged as he leaped across the room with a speed he shouldn't be capable of and gripped the pony by the neck. “Does it look like I’m lying to you?” Carrot Cake yelled, his voice gaining an odd, otherworldly tenor to it.

“N-n-no sir,” muttered the terrified male.

Carrot Cake dropped the stallion and stumbled backward.

“If they make you drink some kind of red liquid that means your going to turn into one of them,” Carrot Cake continued, chest heaving with every word. “If that happens, you must kill yourself before it's too late. By the stars, I can already feel it crawling under my skin.”

Everyone stood in horror as the stallion’s flesh began to writhe as if millions of maggots were moving just beneath his skin. Whatever curiosity-fueled hypnosis that had gripped the group was shattered at that moment and a mad dash was made for the door. As ponies piled out, Cup Cake watched in horror as her husband began to twitch and spasm on the floor.

“Give me the knife, please!” Carrot begged, hoof outstretched. “I don't want to turn into one of them!”

“I… I… I…” Cup Cake stuttered.

He's going to kill her, and then everyone else in that room. Declared a voice that seemed to echo from everywhere and nowhere.

Pinkie Pie spun around, waving the cleaver wildly. “Who said that? Where are…”

In here. Look down at your han-er hoof. Replied the masculine-sounding voice.

Pinkie Pie paused mid-swing and noticed that the featureless entity inside her knife was waving at her. Like a dull crimson ghost, the entity stood within the confines of the blade and looked at her.

“You’re inside the cleaver,” Pinkie Pie muttered.

I’m as surprised as you are about my newfound abode, but you gotta save that lady, er pony. He declared, pointing in the direction of the bakery. If he turns, he's going to kill her, and he won't stop there. I don't know how I know this but I do and you have to trust me.

“I can't hurt Mr. Cake,” Pinkie Pie whispered.

Look at him! That's not the man you once knew! Shouted the voice.

Pinkie Pie followed his hand towards the front of the bakery, where she saw that Carrot Cake had begun to change. Long, sharp horns sprouted from his flesh directly above his eyes, spraying blood in twin arcs across the room. His flesh bulged, and a pair of clawed arms burst forth from his back, showering everyone that remained in a fountain of gore.

Don't wait, go! Cut his head off, quick, before he suffers a fate worse than death itself! Declared the voice.

“I can't do that to Mr. Cake, he's so nice,” Pinkie Pie muttered absently, her hair having fallen slack as her eyes dulled.

We don't have time for this. Stated the voice.

Pinkie Pie barely even noticed as her mane leaped back up, only it didn't regain its normal goofiness. Rather it became a tight mohawk of bright pink that stuck straight up without the need for gel or a stylist. Her pupils became a bright crimson, and the cleaver in her hoof glowed a bright, menacing red color.

She then lurched forward, moving with a speed that even she didn't know she had. The pony vaulted over the baking table ran through the doorway, and shoulder-checked a horrified Mrs. Cake away just in time. For the beast wearing her husband’s flesh had been a second from biting off her head with its enormous jaws.

Our man quickly leaped back up onto his new hooves, cleaver raised before him, ready to strike. His opponent forcefully removed his sharp, jagged teeth from the wall, and turned around to glare at the pony before him. Standing twice as tall as he had a minute earlier, the former baker now sported a second set of red-clawed arms that grew from either side of his head.

Eyes, mouths, and other malformed appendages slash orifices had sprouted from his body seemingly at random. Turning him into a freakish abomination that made it appear as though the demon was wearing Carrot’s body like an ill fitting suit which he was slowly bursting free from. His eyes, or at least the two on his face, glared hatefully at the pink pony standing across from him.

“You,” he gurgled, his voice sounding like two very different creatures speaking at once. “You are not a pony and not one of us.”

“I don't know what I am, or how I ended up here. All I know is that I’m going to kick your ass,” declared our man, through Pinkie Pie’s lips.

The entity wearing Carrot Cake’s form crackled madly, its lips splitting in order to allow its jaws to open even wider.

“Oh that is rich,” it exclaimed. “These pitiful grazing animals can't even harm us with their pitiful weapons.”

“I think you will find that I am more than capable of hurting you,” our man declared, brandishing the cleaver in several quick chops.

“You will try,” retorted the demon.

With that, the creature lurched across the room, facial arms extended with the intent of gripping our man around the throat. The former human leaped to the side before that could happen, and with incredible speed, chopped off one of the beast’s arms. Stepping away, the person acting in Pinkie Pie’s stead waited for the next attack but was surprised when it didn't come. Instead, the demonic entity backpedaled, staring down at its missing limb with confusion in its eyes.

“I can't grow it back. How did you do that?” murmured the creature.

Our man turned Pinkie Pie’s lips into a wide, confident grin. “I told you I could hurt you.”

This time the ex con goer launched into an attack of his own, lopping off one of the demon’s legs before rolling under another of the creature’s arms when it tried to swipe at him. He removed that limb as well with a swipe of his own, the cleaver parting flesh and bone alike with little effort. Using strength the pony hadn't had several minutes ago, the former human leaped up into the air and onto the demon’s back.

“Die, filth!” Shouted the bodiless human, cleaver raised high.

The killing blow didn't come, however, as the demon bucked our man off his back with enough force to send him through the storefront window. Tumbling end over end, the former human tried to get back up, but found his neck was turned completely backward. It only took a grunt, and a twist of his hooves to remedy this issue, however, snapping his head back around in the right direction.

Just in time to see a partially dismembered demon charging at him, a roar on its mangled lips. The former human rolled forward, coming up under the creature’s bite, and sliding his cleaver along the beast’s belly. Organs and blood erupted out of the hole, spilling across the ground and coating the pink pony from head to hoof.

Coming out the other side, the former human leaped back into a stand and readied his cleaver once more. Only this time the demon didn't rise, the beast having toppled to the ground, its legs spasming weakly. It tried to get back up, to attack yet again, but that only caused more of its insides to spill out across the ground. The wet mass steamed upon hitting the air, and soon an unpleasant aroma all but punched the man in the nose.

“Weak,” rattled the demon. “This body is weak, half-formed. If only I had more time.”

“Any last words, maybe a veiled insult, or perhaps some declaration that in the end your kind will win?” Our man offered the dying demon.

Who croaked twice in a grim fascimile of a laugh. “No, nothing quite so grand. Just a simple plea, to go fuck yourself.”

The man chuckled and raised the cleaver. “Fair enough.”

With a single downward strike, he split the demon’s head open, piercing straight through the abnormally thick skull. Upon hitting the twisted crimson organ beneath, the creature released its dying breath and fell still.

Is it… is it over? Pinkie Pie asked.

“No, not quite,” answered our man.

Before Pinkie Pie had no opportunity to ask what was going on as the person inhabiting her body brought the cleaver down again. A third strike was followed by a fourth, destroying enough of the boney prison that held what had once been a brain. The former human then reached forward, and with a single yank, ripped the still pulsating mass out of the creature’s head.

W-what are you doing? Pinkie Pie asked.

“This is the only way to stop the corruption from spreading,” replied the man.

He then brought the twitching organ up to his mouth and bit into it with all the force he could muster. Boiling hot blood gushed down his throat, filling his mouth completely within only moments. He chewed and swallowed quickly, devouring the organ within only a few seconds, leaving nothing behind, not even a blood splatter.

He gulped several more times, ensuring nothing remained, before finally sighing with grim finality. His work was done, and already strength was flowing through his body, filling him with power. The kink in his neck vanished, as did the scars left behind after roughly fixing his broken spine. The all-consuming ecstasy left moments later, leaving behind an uncomfortable sensation in the pit of his stomach.

“It is done,” he muttered.

Pinkie Pie’s hair fell flat once more, her eyes lost the predatory, crimson gleam and the cleaver slid into her hoof. Control returned to Pinkie Pie a few seconds later, and the first thing she did was collapse to the ground. She then began to violently gag, her body attempting to spit out the demonic organ she had consumed.

Don't bother. We’ve already absorbed it. Stated the man.

“I can still,” Pinkie Pie paused to gag and spit. “I can still taste it.”

Yeah that wasn't exactly pleasant, but there isn't much we can do about that. If we don't absorb it, the blood will go into the soil. There it will corrupt the plants, animals, and eventually any who are born nearby. He pointed out.

“How do you know all that?” Pinkie Pie muttered, pausing to wipe her lips.

I… don't know. He admitted. When I was put in that cleaver I felt like a ton of information was jammed into my brain somehow.

“What are you, what am I?” Pinkie Pie murmured, looking down at her shaking forehooves.

I am, or was, a human. Though beyond that I couldn't tell you. Who I was, my name, what I looked like. It's all… gone, replaced by strange knowledge. He admitted. What are you doing?

Pinkie Pie squeezed her midsection harder. “You seem like you need a hug, so that's what I’m doing.”

You are… The man sighed. Thank you Pinkie Pie and for what it's worth I am sorry this happened to you.

“It's okay Mister C, I can tell that you didn't want this to happen,” Pinkie Pie murmured.

Mister C? Oh like, cleaver. That doesn't feel right… how about, Max? He offered.

“That sounds nicer,” Pinkie Pie whispered.

Great, now that we got that out of the way, we should probably deal with them. He pointed out.

Pinkie Pie looked up to find herself surrounded on all sides by confused and horrified citizens of Ponyville. The local guards were present as well, their weapons gripped tight, and their armor only half put on. Now without a freakish abomination in their midst, they had found their steel, though none dared approach the blood-covered Pinkie Pie.

“Oh, uh…” Pinkie Pie winced and raised a hoof. “Hi, everyone.”

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