//------------------------------// // Prince of Darkness Part 1 // Story: An Equestrian Girl needs a Doctor // by jidbrony //------------------------------// Part 1 Northern Ireland, 21st century Brian Harker found it difficult getting out of bed today; the mornings of Northern Ireland were becoming chilly. However, the cows and chickens had a second opinion, many loudly calling for his attendance. The middle-aged man forced himself up and put his feet into his slippers. His wife, Heather, was still asleep, bless her. She always fussed about her looks, but she always looked Saintly to him. He’d have kissed her at the moment, but she had been working on her blog all night. Happily married for nearly fifty years, they already had four children, two of whom already grew up and left the house. Sarah was probably already buttoning on her jacket to tend to the henhouse. However, Brian couldn’t have her work on the farm all day - she had to go to school today as well. Sarah was hard-working, but she needed to focus more on her exams. Besides, Moody Molly trusted nobody to milk her but Brian. He got started on a pot of coffee, hoping it would shock him awake and warm his body. However, while he was doing so, he heard the distinctive sound of tired upon gravel. He peered out the window to see a nice-looking silver car, which looked fresh and clean, like an airport rental. Family from the UK flew there sometimes in similar looking cars. However, he had an inkling of who might be in this automobile, and he wasn’t family. Opening the car was a tall man in his thirties, with skin of a burnt orange color. His black hair was cropped short, and his eyes were concealed behind dark glasses - who would wear sunglasses at such a ridiculously early hour? Well, he did. From his black suit and tie, to his clean-shaven face, this man’s overall look was professional, save for his leather gloves, long outer coat, and red scarf. but something looked off about his face from this distance. Sarah immediately approached him and began talking to him: Not surprising at all, Sarah was always social and hospitable. He could see him speaking to her from a distance, but his face remained strangely blank as he spoke, his sentences clearly kurt. However, Sarah remained gracious and perhaps oblivious as always. Still, he didn’t seem interested in small talk, and even Sarah must have sensed this. She led him, still smiling as ever, to the front door. Hearing the distinctive clicks of an opening door, Sarah called out: “Dad! Someone’s here to see ya!” Quietly thumping behind her were the large combat boots of their guest. He was sure to introduce himself, but Brian knew precisely who he was: Delger Chonov, who found Brian’s website and had been emailing him for information for a long time. Delger looked professional from a distance, but up close, he looked almost formidable. Brian could also now plainly see what was wrong with his face: Delger’s face was scarred and deformed. Part of his left ear was clipped off, and a scar divided his right eyebrow in two. Brian realized that Delger was probably a veteran of combat, most likely during one of the Chechen Wars, as Delger would have probably been a Russian citizen at the time, but there was no way that Brian could know for sure. Nor was he even going to ask. Delger, however, perhaps sensing some tension on Brian’s part, removed his sunglasses, revealing a pair of eyes that were completely pitch black orbs. He then extended a hand to him: “Hello,” he started in a mild Russian accent, “you must be Brian Harker. I’m Delgerbayar Chonov. Most call me Delger.” “Wha- oh, right! Brian Harker! Nice to meet you Delger!” Delger seemed to force a smile, observing Brian’s robe, boxers, and slippers. “I hope I did not disturb you very much, “Oh no, you only disturbed me a little bit!” Delger’s expression seemed to indicate that he took this remark seriously. Brian immediately corrected himself: “Oh no no no no no! You didn’t disturb me at all!” Delger forced a chuckle. “Ah, would you like some breakfast? I’ve got some eggs in the refrigorator, I think.” “Um, sure. I forgot to eat this morning.” Delger didn’t say it, but he was so excited about what he had come for that he forgot to take any stops, coming sooner than he had originally planned. Billy woke up, rubbing his eyes. “Hullo Daddy...who’s this?” “Oh! Remember how I said that Mister Chonov was coming today? Well, this is him!” “Pleased to meet you sir,” Billy said half heartedly, too tired to fully feel it. Delger smiled a little. “Pleased to meet you too, Billy.” He removed the glove and offered his hand. Then Billy’s eyes began to work better, and he saw it: The terribly scarred visage. He most certainly did not expect Mr. Chonov to look this way. Chonov must have seen his reaction, because smiled slightly again, and admitted, “my captors weren’t exactly good hosts.” Brian sincerely chuckled at this, and remembered that Delger was a father himself, though now hardly seeing his daughter. It had suddenly occurred to Brian that perhaps the divorce left a void that Delger was filling with the Doctor. Billy simply looked confused: “The who?” “The Chechens,” Brian began as he grabbed some eggs from the refrigerator, “were a people in Russia trying to cede. Stalin once tried to deport their entire population during the War.” “The Great Patriotic War,” Delger said, “is what some Russians called it. You know it by another name. The Chechens didn’t exactly forget that. They had others with other peoples of Russia since that point.” Billy was fascinated: He was interested in soldiers and armies, and much to the worry of his parents, wanted to be a soldier himself. Now Delger was here adding fuel to it. “Are you Russian?” he asked. “Me? A Russian citizen, yes. A Russian ethnic? No, I’m a Kalmyk and a Mongolian. My father’s people, the Kalmyks, were also deported by Stalin during the War, but many of us stuck with Russia after that point, whether we liked it or not, whereas the Chechens kept trying to cede.” As Brian grabbed some eggs from the refrigerator, he asked, “so, how is Sükh-Khutaluun these days?” “Oh, she’s fine, she’s been going to school.” Delger shrugged. “Doing well enough in it. I think she’s okay. The other students seem to be having trouble pronouncing her name though.” “Daddy, let me do that,” said Sarah. “No Sarah,” Brian corrected, “speaking of school, you should be getting ready to go.” Then his expression became serious again. “So, you said you had documents about the Doctor?” Cutting right to the chase, thought Brian. Brian Harker hosted a website all about the Doctor, a figure who often appeared in legends, myths, and ghost stories. He became the subject of many a conspiracy theory and even many a “creepypasta” as his daughter called them. There were many photos and sketches of the same handful of men throughout all of history, on all continents, though there was little agreement over who the Doctor actually was or what he looked like. Two of the most popular “Doctors” were a tall man with a fedora and a ridiculously long scarf, and also an unconventionally handsome man with wild hair, a long coat, and converse, and many, many eyewitnesses came forward talking about these Doctors. They were believed by most to be the most likely candidates to be the real Doctor. But they weren’t Brian’s Doctor. His Doctor was a young man with less than prominent eyebrows, and a bow tie and a tweed jacket. He eventually found descriptions that matched this Doctor with a story about a run-in with Unit 731 in Manchuria, a man who was identical to the description that Brian Harker grew up with. This particular “Doctor” was also witnessed near a Freddie Fazbear’s Pizza roughly around the same time a horrifying incident happened there, in Virginia City during the turn of the century from the 1800s to the 1900s, Romania exactly around 1999, during a Solar Eclipse, and, most hauntingly of them all, he was spotted in Sarajevo, 1914. Like any other Doctor, where he went, death followed. “Oh second thought, Sarah,” Brian began, “why don’t you prepare breakfast while I help Mr. Chonov with the Doctor?” Harker had an old family story, passed down for generations, about the time an ancestor of his went to Romania and met an evil count...and also a man called the Doctor. The Doctor’s young companion left behind a diary, recording her opinions on events that were happening at the time. He had a site that focused on these stories and the diary, detailing what he knew about the Doctor, but few took this data seriously. Until now. Delger had also heard about the Unit 731 encounter, and also of that description of the Doctor, and wrote to Brian Harker about this Doctor, asking for as many details as he could. Brian gave the best answers possible, and from there, Delger was beginning to share bits of his life as Brian shared his. Eventually, both the questions and the sharing got the point in which Brian invited Delger over himself. However, Brian’s original plan was to meet Delger at the airport about an hour from now; Delger must have came early and rented a car back in Belfast. Must have been a half hour drive for him to get here. “Anyway,” Brian began enthusiastically, “I do have things about the Doctor. Lots of them! It’s all in the den!” Brian had been feeling bad about this; Delger was being rude, but he came to see things about the Doctor, and Brian had a diary on his hands that talked all about him. Besides, the Doctor was one of Brian’s favorite topics. Brian’s den was very old-fashioned in its furnishings, with a bright colorful carpet, tall wooden bookshelves, with many old books, and was generally poorly lit. Delger, in his frustration, yanked down the strings attached to the blinds covering the window, filling the room with a burst of golden light. The dust seemed to illustrate the beams of light all the more clearly, the light aiming at the desk, as if in indication of the the diary’s location. Brian realized that Delger had guessed correctly: “Oh, yes, the diary and all things related to the Doctor are in here!” It was an old wooden desk, the two major legs supporting it also doubling as bureaus, and the flat layout of the desk itself was concealed by a sliding cover consisting of multiple wooden panels. Brian slid the panels up, and grabbed a key from the desk, which he used to unlock one of the bureaus. From it, he pulled out a lidless, clear plastic box, which contained many papers and a couple of books in it. Brian pulled out a thin one, and pointed out “now, the thing about this book, is that it looks much like the ones you’d get at Wal-Mart now - isn’t that funny? This book was left behind around 1897!” Delger took it and inspected the cover: Indeed, it was anachronistic; no book from that decade with have the cardboard cover or the simple checkered pattern. Yet this book was clearly ancient. “It was written by a companion of the Doctor, probably as alien as he was.” “Yeah,” replied Delger, “I remember what you told me. And I still have a difficult time believing you. What was her name again? “Her name,” Brian explained, “was Napnyugta Csillámlik, or rather, ‘Sunset Shimmer,’ as she seems to translate her name.” Delger wasn’t sure what Brian meant by that, until he opened the book himself, and as he thumbed through the pages, he discovered something shocking... Delger suddenly looked mortified: “Mr Harker-” “Please, call me Brian!” “Brian...you didn’t tell me that this was written in a language like no other I or probably anybody has ever seen!!” “Told you she was an alien! ...Oh dear! Sorry about that. But see here?” he said, indicating the beginning pages of the book, “this has a guide of sorts, which seems to translate the text here, like a Rosetta’s Stone, almost. The author also seems to write several bits of the book in English. Her vocabulary and grammar are impeccable, but she uses her syntax like a foreigner - oh, sorry-” “No, no” Delger huffed, “I understood precisely what you meant - English is not her first writing language, even if she could perhaps speak it fluently enough. So, how much have you been able to decipher?” “Over the years, a Harker has translated more and more of her diary. Started with my great, great grandmother, Mina Harker. This is how far we’ve gotten so far,” he said, handing out some fresher papers from the same plastic box as the diary. Delger took them, and began to read… The first written words were these: “If anybody reads this....I will kill you. Personally.” Delger shook his head and huffed, because he knew immediately what that meant: “Teenagers.”