//------------------------------// // The Girl Under the Doorstep // Story: Finish's Model; or, Talk About Eye Candy! // by Joe Kickass //------------------------------// The child was almost finished digging the waste pit by the time the meat she found had ripened. While her feet continued scooping up earth and tossing it aside, her main pair of hands grabbed the wet animal meat, its insides bulging against the skin. She stabbed the tip of a nail into the meat’s belly and dragged it down its length. Heat and moisture and the smell of ripeness rose up from the slit. The child could barely control herself. It had four sleeps since her littermates and mother and father had died, since she narrowly escaped their den with her life. Since the last time she ate. She was starving. She tore the long, flexible softer bits on the inside out of the meat and shoved it into her mouth. The feeling of food, after so long, soothed her briefly. When her hunger returned as quickly as it left, she reached into the meat again, scarfing down more of the insides pulled out. This continued until the last of the insides was eaten. With none left, the child moved onto the flesh and bones. As each piece of flesh was devoured, she moved on to the bone she had picked clean before taking another bite of flesh. Her small jaw was too weak to bite into the bones, and she lacked the strength to snap many of them open even with all her arms, but a nearby rock let her crack the bones open and suck them empty. Before long, all that remained of the meat was its bloodied - despite the child doing her best to lick it clean - skin and the pit the child filled back in to cover up the smell. The child dug another, shallower, wider pit, despite her approaching exhaustion. She lined it with the soft upside-down roots that grew just beyond the edge of her vast shelter until there were enough to form an actual layer, then pushed the bloody side of the skin into the earth until there was enough stuck to the blood to reduce the smell. Flipping the skin over, the child wrapped herself in the furry side and laid down on the strange roots. Her body relaxed, and she waited to fall into a restful sleep. She started thinking about her parents again instead. The child remembered hearing them die, remembered one of her parents demanding she and her littermates run and not look back. She remembered her mad dig to safety. She remembered she had only made it because her hunters were too busy eating her littermates to give chase. And now she was going to die. She was going to die here, alone. The child cried into the ground again. When she was done, she tried returning to sleep. Unfamiliar sounds bombarded her all throughout the night. Low rumbles of massive things passing by, strange animals calling out, repetitive noises that couldn’t have possibly come from animals... it all overwhelmed the child. She covered her sensitive ears with the hands of the smaller arms on her back, hoping to block out the noise. She rested for a bit, but eventually the sounds got through to her again and woke her back up. This would repeat until the child started feeling the world warm up. The odd noises reached a crescendo, then died down. Sounds more familiar to the child, in spirit if not literally, started to replace them. Small animals chirping, people talking to each other; even the rumbling that continued from the night felt oddly comforting now. Feeling the worst had passed, she dedicated her sensitive ears to what these people were saying to each other. Not that she could understand them, of course. Or even could have understood them. Her whole life had been far away from them, among her own kind. It was just comforting to hear people saying things she knew was pleasant. The child fondly reminisced about the happier times she had with her littermates. Playing, greeting their parents whenever they returned from looking for food, listening to lessons from their parents, keeping each other calm when they accompanied their parents to food… An animal suddenly started making noises. They were the sounds of a pack hunter who had found prey, or perhaps a guardian that had smelled an intruder. It was loud, whatever it was. And it was running towards the child, over the apparent protests of the people nearby. The child shrieked with panic, and bolted away from the edge of her shelter. Frantically, she started feeling around for ground soft enough to dig into… to hide in… “Faust, what’s gotten into that dog?!” “He’s got a scent! Fuck made that sound…!” “… I got this. You go take care of the dog.” “Will do. Here, boy! Here! Come! Good boy, good walkies boy…!” “… Honey, where’s the flashlight? There’s somethin’ under the porch!” “It’s where it always is, dear!” “… got a feelin’ I know what that was… Fuck, that smell! Darlin’, call Doc Stable and tell me if those eggs have expired yet! It’s a…” “Heya little thing. What’cha doin’ all by yourself? Where’s your parents? … Can’t understand a word I’m sayin’, can ya. Got some water here… Faust, you’re thirsty. Hungry too, I bet. What’m I sayin’, of course you are, you’re all skin and bones… Ever had hard boiled eggs before?” “…ber, you’ll need to bring her in for biweekly sessions with the staff therapist. We’re in uncharted territory here, we have no idea how far raising a ghoul like a normal pony will go.” “Oh Doc, we got no worries. Dash turned out fine and all, and she’s-” “Wide awake.” “Oh my gosh…!” “Heya kiddo. You sleep well? Sorry ‘bout the cold medicine in the eggs, Doc Stable here-” “I didn’t know if you could come quietly, or what you might give one of us us if you didn’t.” “She’s a child, Doc. C’mon, Dash didn’t need to be knocked out like tha-” “And I won’t be taking those risks because I’m not a soldier!” “… Paranoid sunova…” “Doc, ya don’t need to yell. The poor thing’s been dead silent the whole time, she’s probably scared outta her wits. Ya told us everything, can we just take this darling little girl home now?” “Just some final paperwork before this study can officially begin… You already got a name for her in mind, Mrs. Crumbles?” “Rarity. Her name’s Rarity.”