//------------------------------// // Chapter One: Interview with the Vampire. Well...sort of // Story: Ponyville: Paranormal // by locke_jaw //------------------------------// Outskirts of Ponyville, 7:00 pm Luna’s moon glowed brightly. It illuminated the entire town with its full form. The breeze felt crisp tonight, a perfect time for an evening stroll. Soft chirping of crickets filled the air. And from a distance, echoing howls can be heard. A camera crew was trotting outside in the cool night. A portion of the town was caught in their footage. But they themselves were unseen. Standing at the center of their lens was the subject of their attention. It was an old stallion. He’s probably in his early forties, but his rugged features were still there. His mane that was supposedly black was now mixed in with strands of silver. His grey coat on the other hoof, remained the same. He was wearing a black suit; some parts of it were torn and ripped like he just came from a violent encounter. His tie was a bit loose, and some buttons on his white shirt were missing. His eyes looked weary. Their sparkle has long been gone and bags were forming underneath it. Black shades rested on his muzzle, along with a piece of band-aid. To complete the tired look, he’s also biting an unlit cigarette stick. “And that’s how why I have this on my snout.” He looked at the camera, tapping the band-aid gently with his hoof. He winced. “It still stings when I touch it. Those minotaurs hit harder than expected. So anyway, let’s get this thing going. You can turn the camera on now.” “It’s already on.” The camera mare said. “What?” The stallion’s ears perked up. He furrowed his brows. “Since when?” “Since we landed.” “Why didn’t you tell me that?” “We thought you already knew.” “Oh Goddesses.” The stallion said, placing a hoof between his face. He winced again. “Wait. That Celestia joke I told earlier, you got that on tape?” “Yes.” “Cut that out later.” He told the crew, his voice sounded nervous. The crew followed the stallion as he trotted towards a house on top of a small hill. The house by design looked unique. Even when compared to the already zany aesthetic of Ponyville’s buildings, this one slightly stands out. Its most distinct feature would be its dual color palette. The left side of the house was painted in varying shades of brown while the other, in varying shades of blue. The only consistent design on the structure was its windows, which has stained glass forming mosaics of clefs, as if to imply that its residents are musicians. And if one was still not convinced then the chimney will settle it for them, which took the form of an organ’s pipe. They stood near a shrub with its leaves trimmed in the shape of a quarter note. “So what’s the standard procedure?” The camera mare asked. “Oh you know.” The stallion replied in a casual manner. “We go in, we inspect if their premises is up to the E.P.I.C.” “E.P.I.C?” “Equestrian Peaceful Integration Code. Come on, you should know that by now. Once they pass inspection, meaning their lifestyle is up to code, we’ll leave them be. But not before wiping the memories of any accidental witnesses in the area.” “Wiping their memories? How?” “Standard issue vanisher ward.” The stallion replied while pulling something from the inside of his jacket. As he pulled it out, the crew focused the camera on his chest. It looked like a short metal rod. It’s about as long as a quill, or longer. On top of it was a smooth dark gem. And on its body lay several buttons and tiny knobs. “They got rid of the memory wiper now” added the stallion. “Those things give ponies a headache.” “How does that work?” The crew asked. “I knew you’d say it.” The stallion pushed his glasses back, covering his eyes. He fiddled with the ward’s buttons. Small beeping sounds came with every button press. Once the small tool was set, it let out a high pitched sound like it has charged itself. He pointed its tip at the crew. “Here, let me show you.” He grinned, gesturing for them to look at it. The camera centered its shot to the rod. Its gem started to glow. Another high pitched sound followed. And then everything glowed white. As the blinding light dwindled and everything went back to normal, the camera focused its view back to the stallion again. “So what’s the standard procedure?” The camera mare asked, unknowingly repeating the question from before. “Oh you know.” The stallion replied in a casual manner, again. “Same old, same old. Follow me.” He proceeded to walk on the house’s doorstep. Music can be heard inside, although softly. He returned the ward back to his pocket. The camera took a quick glance at it before it was kept away, like it’s the first time they saw the thing. The stallion knocked on the door. The music coming from the house went silent. Hasty sounds of hoofsteps followed. The stallion stepped back as the door opened. A grey mare stood at the now opened doorstep. Her mane was dark and long and she’s wearing a pink bowtie. In her hoof was a fiddle, which makes her responsible for the music playing earlier. “Yes, how may I help you?” She said. Her tone sounded posh and sophisticated, like the ones from Canterlot. “Good evening, Miss.” The stallion greeted. “My name is Agent Rockwell and we’re from the Bureau of Secrecies.” He pulled out his badge from his jacket to show her. He also pulled a warrant from another pocket and hoofed it to her. “We’re conducting an inspection in your household to see if it holds up to the Equestrian Peaceful Integration Code. Can you tell us your name please?” “Oh. Um, my name’s Octavia, Octavia Melody.” “Miss Melody.” Rockwell confirmed. “Is Miss Scratch in?” “Well yes. But...” Octavia hesitated. She looked beyond Rockwell and straight at the camera crew. Their presence seemed to unnerve her. “Why is there a camera crew following you?” “It’s new protocol.” Rockwell said flatly. “It’s for documentation purposes. We’re going digital now. But don’t worry about it, miss. None of the footage here will be released publicly. It’s purely classified information. Can we speak to Miss Scratch now?” “Vinyl’s...” Octavia’s lips clenched for a moment before continuing. “Busy at the moment, unfortunately. But I can speak on her behalf if you want.” “You’re a vampire too, right?” Rockwell asked. “Well, not really, no.” Octavia replied, scratching her chin while looking away. “My Roommate is a Vampire. I’m just her donor, a partial one to be honest.” Before she could continue, her eyes went wide at an unspoken realization. “But before that, please do come in! I’ll have tea ready in a minute.” Rockwell quickly followed. “No tea for me, thank you.” “I’d like one.” The camera mare said. Rockwell shushed the crew. “No time for that. I just want this inspection to be over with so I can go home.” He pressed a hoof on his back, the sound of cracking bones followed suit. “Those minotaurs really did a number on me.” He groaned. “Minotaurs?” Octavia asked. As the camera crew entered the house, they panned their shot all over its interior. It’s as zany as the view from the outside. The first room they appeared in as they entered was the studio. It was also divided into two parts. The left side looked more traditional, using decorations and furniture that is conventional to the high-end lifestyle. A hoof carved coffee table, polished wooden floor, imported vases, everything just screamed fancy on this side. Several instruments can also be seen on this side as well, such as the piano on the wall and the cello idly lying on a red recliner. Meanwhile, the right side looked so aggressively techno, as if it’s prepared for a party. The floor was laden with wires all connected to the soundboard. Records pulled out from their cases were lying around. There’re speakers attached all over the walls. And there’s even a disco ball hanging on the ceiling. Everything about the right side just screamed club-like. Rockwell pulled another object from his folder. It’s the files needed for the inspection with the accompanying fountain pen, all enclosed in a brown folder. He opened the folder and skimmed over the documents. He looked at Octavia. The glasses hiding his eyes made him look more stoic than before. “I’m going to ask you a series of questions and I want you to answer them to the best of your abilities. You don’t want to fail this one now, do you?” He said as he began roaming around the room. “Of course.” Octavia said, starting to get nervous. Rockwell ceased his roaming and looked back to Octavia. “Let’s start with the living quarters. Can you show us her bedroom?” “Uh, I guess so?” Octavia seemed uncertain. “We just want to make sure if her room has proper sun proofing.” Rockwell assured her upon noticing her hesitation. “Oh.” Octavia replied, now convinced of their intentions. “In that case, follow me then.” She led Rockwell and the crew to Vinyl’s bedroom. “Does she sleep in a coffin?” Rockwell said to Octavia as her hoof gripped the doorknob. He was shifting his glance from the folder and back to her. “In a queen sized bed, actually.” Octavia opened the door gently. “Coffins are far too restricting and claustrophobic for her taste. She prefers to roll on her bed in all directions. It’s a bit annoying to say the least.” Octavia blushed and looked at the crew in panic, like she had just revealed something shameful. The camera turned to Rockwell. He seemed unfazed. He still continued checking his folder and looked back at Octavia in quick glimpses, just like earlier. Octavia remained quiet as she showed the room to the inspectors. She flipped up a switch. The room glowed bright. At first glance, Vinyl’s room looked tidy, like there’s nothing wrong with it. But upon closer inspection, anypony can tell that it was hastily cleaned. The blankets were folded messily. The bed sheet doesn’t fully cover the bed. Some of her clothes can be seen underneath it. And there were a couple of filled trash bags behind the door to conceal them from unsuspecting eyes upon opening. Octavia ignored her roommate’s clumsy attempt at tidying (although it’s obvious that it kind of bugged her a bit) and headed to the windows that were covered up in wooden planks. “As you can see” she began. “We boarded up the windows and used thick curtains for good measure.” She held the red fabric at Rockwell to show its thickness. She trotted besides Vinyl’s bed and opened the nightstand. She pulled one of the cans stacked inside it and showed it to Rockwell. “We also stored some sealant now in case a hole or two was accidentally punched through the roof, again.” “Again?” Rockwell said softly that only the camera crew could hear. He shrugged it off like it’s nothing. He flipped a page from his folder while Octavia returned the can back to the nightstand. “Let’s talk safety.” Rockwell’s eyes remained to the folder as he exited the room. The crew let Octavia get out first before following suit. “The exit paths are clear.” Rockwell said while scribbling on his folder. “The sprinklers” He looked at Octavia, a foreleg pointing upwards. “Are they functional?” “I see to it that they’re properly maintained.” Octavia firmly replied. Rockwell hummed silently to himself. He roamed around the house again. This time, he’s looking at all the sprinklers installed in the ceiling. Octavia and the crew tailed him. He stopped at the kitchen. He looked at Octavia while tapping the kitchen cabinet with his folder. “This cabinet’s a fire hazard by the way.” He said to her. “How so?” Octavia tilted her head as she asked him. Rockwell looked down to write something on his folder. From where the camera was standing, it seemed like he’s writing an ‘X.’ “It’s too tall for the sprinklers to reach once it catches on fire.” He looked back at Octavia. “Can I see your emergency blood stash?” “Yes, it’s over there.” Octavia trotted to a small metal door next to the pantry. “Vinyl had this one specially done for her. It’s like a miniature vault that has its own cooling system, similar to a refrigerator’s.” Octavia had a bit of trouble pulling the door open. She had to use two hooves to pull the metal door that appeared to be several inches thick out. Once it did, it let out a hissing sound that was followed by some cold, white smoke. Inside the vault rested a couple blood bags just waiting to be consumed by its owner. “How many do you usually store?” Rockwell asked, pen ready to jot down. “About five bags or so.” Octavia looked at Rockwell, forelegs at the door. He nodded at her. She closed the vault. “How recent are they?” “They were replaced three weeks ago.” Octavia answered while blowing hot air on her chilled hoof. Rockwell flipped another page on his folder. “Where do you keep your daytime kit?” “It’s back in the bedroom.” Octavia gave a shy smile, realizing she’ll lead them back to the bedroom again. She jogged back to Vinyl’s bedroom. Rockwell followed her, keeping his normal pace. The camera crew matched Rockwell’s speed. As he and the crew reached the bedroom, Octavia was kneeling on the floor, shuffling through things from a box that appeared to be taken out of Vinyl’s closet. “I” Octavia cleared her throat. “We followed every word in the orientation.” She dragged the box to Rockwell. “As you can see” She grabbed an item from the box, identifying each of them. “She’s already set with a hoodie, a pair of sweatpants, and a newly purchased bottle of sunscreen.” Rockwell picked the bottle of sunscreen up. He read the label silently. “SPF 100” he placed the bottle back. “Good choice.” He wrote in his folder again. “Let’s head down the main course.” Octavia’s eyes narrowed. “I beg your pardon?” “Tell me about her feeding regimen.” Rockwell closed his folder. “I see.” Octavia replied. She led Rockwell and the crew back to the kitchen. This time, they stopped in front of the fridge. Octavia opened the refrigerator, different kinds of food were lit in soft yellow light. As Octavia knelt down again, the camera mare focused the shot on an untouched slice of chocolate cake. “Vinyl’s blood diet mainly comes from the Ponyville General’s surplus of blood bags.” Octavia opened a compartment at the bottom part of the fridge, revealing a dozen’s worth of blood bags neatly stacked together. “The hospital has gotten so much blood donations that they don’t know what to do with them.” She continued. “So they just give them to the local vampires, with the proper paperwork of course. We get seven bags each week, one for each day.” Rockwell grabbed a blood bag from the compartment. He noticed that the container was different from the standard issue bag hospitals use. There’s also no label of what type the blood was. “What blood type is this?” “A Negative.” Octavia answered. “She often chooses this variety because it tastes like-” “Like Cabernet Sauvignon.” Rockwell finished. He hoofed the bag back to Octavia. “Which happens to be my favorite kind of wine.” Octavia replied, looking a bit amazed. “How did you know that, if I may ask?” “We do a lot of surveys.” Rockwell sniffed his hoof that touched the blood bag, wondering if it caught the smell of raw blood. He let his hoof down. “Does she hunt?” “Vinyl? Yes, she does. But only on a monthly basis. She just wants to get the kinks out of her system. The savage and rabid side of her vampiric nature, if you get the gist.” Octavia got up and closed the fridge. “In addition, she really doesn’t like the blood staining her coat. She says it’s really hard to get the red stuff off her white fur.” “What kind of animal?” Rockwell asked, writing again. “Mostly deer. But I saw her take down a bear once.” Octavia sounded a little boastful saying the last part. Rockwell flipped another page. “You mentioned you were her donor earlier?” Before answering the question, Octavia motioned Rockwell and the crew to take a seat at the dining room. “Please.” She offered. “You must be really exhausted after a long day’s work.” “Good timing.” Rockwell took a seat adjacent to Octavia. He made himself comfortable on the chair and stretched his limbs to their limits, cracking sounds of bones can be heard. He let out a satisfied sigh. “Those were the only questions that required roaming around the house. These last few ones can be done here.” “I’m a partial donor actually.” Octavia answered. “I give her a pint of my blood once a week.” She blushed upon saying so. “But it falls more on the luxury side than necessity. It’s the only way to make her wash the dishes and clean her room, so, there’s that.” Rockwell began writing again. “Let’s talk cover. Occupation, what does she do?” “She works as a Disc Jockey at the local club. She also takes other gigs such as playing for a wedding and other various events.” “Does she have any fabricated illnesses?” “We didn’t think of one at first. But after months of living here,” Octavia giggled. “The ponies were starting to think that Vinyl’s an albino with really sensitive skin. And after that, we just went with it.” Rockwell flipped a couple pages back on his folder. The camera focused on what he’s staring firmly at. He showed it to the screen. It was a small photo of Vinyl clipped on the upper left side of the file. She’s a unicorn with a short, blue, spiky mane with streaks of a lighter shade of blue. And her fur’s white as snow. “Reasonable.” Rockwell said. “Are there any ponies aware of her true identity?” “Thankfully, none” Octavia replied. “Save for me and her vampire peers of course.” “Which reminds me” Rockwell quickly skimmed the pages of his folder. “Is she a member of a local vampire coven in Ponyville? Or a cabal perhaps?” “Well...she is the leader of one. They currently have twenty members, including her.” “So it’s a cabal then.” Rockwell concluded. And once more, was scribbling on his folder. “So what’s it called?” “Bloodstep.” Octavia groaned, like saying the name has hurt her. “How much time does she spend outside?” It took a while for Octavia to answer this question. She’s looking at the ceiling while tapping her chin. She also started humming in contemplation. She looked like she’s deep in thought. Rockwell waited patiently for her reply. “If I’m counting it right,” She paused, beginning to hum again. “I believe on average, she spends at least eight hours a day.” “And the time she goes home?” “She’s usually returns before five am.” This time, Octavia’s answer was quick. “Punctual.” Rockwell complimented flatly. “What is the status of the vampire werewolf-relations in this town?” A troubled look formed on Octavia’s face. It’s also mixed with doubt. “Mildly hostile, I guess?” Rockwell’s ears perked up. “Hostile? Why’s that?” Octavia looked at the direction on where Vinyl’s room was. “There were some...tensions...brewing between the two factions these past few days.” She turned her attention at the camera crew. The shot centered on her face.”And I fear it’ll get worse.” “Who’s the instigator?” The camera focused back on Rockwell. “The werewolves definitely struck first.” Octavia’s voice sounded pretty sure. “Any skirmishes?” “None so far.” “Damaged property?” “Ye-” “Don’t answer that.” Rockwell cut her off. “Want me to do something about it?” “Actually that would be gre-” “Just kidding.” He cut her off again. “It’s not my job.” Rockwell ripped a piece of paper from his folder and hoofed it to Octavia. “I believe this concludes the inspection. Aaand you guys scored an eighty-one percent! You passed the inspection!” His happy voice sounded fake. “You followed most of the rules but still have some minor issues that needed ironing out.” Rockwell kept his folder back to his jacket. “I’ll return to the bureau and submit the results along with the footage for further evaluation. And once that’s done, we’ll be sending another agent here to give you some advice on how to boost your percentage up to ninety-seven percent.” “Ninety-seven percent?” “Nopony’s perfect. I’ll be taking my leave now. Have a nice evening, Miss Octavia.” SLAM! The noise came from the basement door. Everypony was alerted and rushed towards the source of the sound. The camera’s view became shaky when it quickly followed the others. As soon as the camera stabilized, the screen centered its focus on an excited Vinyl Scratch clad in makeshift metal armor. “Octy let’s go!” Vinyl screamed, literally into Octavia’s ear. “We’ll be late for the race war!” “Race war?” The camera focused at Rockwell. His stoic face was now replaced with a look of curious confusion.