Mysteries of Equestria

by Vertigo22


2. The Pale Devil

As foals, we’re typically taught that everyone and everything on our humble planet has purpose. While it may seem bizarre to imagine that a disease carrying pest like a mosquito has a purpose, it serves as good for a friendly little bird. The same goes for a wretch like a cockroach; its feces helps to fertilize some pretty flowers.

Yes, seriously. Next time you see a batch of happy flowers, thank your local cockroach.

Anyways, all life has a grandiose, fantastical purpose. Though there is a legend that is said to lurk within the forests of the world. A monster so horrible, so evil, and so cruel, Princess Celestia herself refuses to acknowledge its existence.

Given the name of “Fleshgait”, and sometimes referred to as “The Pale Devil” (though I will simply call it the Fleshgait), this creature’s documentation dates back to the earliest records of our nation’s existence. Our earliest ancestors spoke of a tall, bipedal, pale creature with sharp claws and pitch black eyes. It’s said that the Fleshgait could mimic the voices of village elders to lure the naïve children into forests, only for them to never be seen again. Though their anguished screams would permeate the still night air for hours on end, only to cease when the most foolish of youth would charge into forest in an effort to save their fellow pony.

Then the scream would change.

The skeptical ponies have always believed these stories to be nothing but fables meant to frighten foals into not straying into forests in an effort to go on reckless adventures. The more open-minded ponies believe that something outside the natural cycle and order of nature exists right outside of our homes.

Claims from Canterlot insiders have existed for years, with some claiming that Celestia has been overhead saying that the Fleshgait is of Tartarus, an escapee that resides among us. Banished centuries ago, it was—or is—a being summoned from the darkest, most wicked of magic. In an effort to see if any of this was true, I reached out to Celestia for a comment, but I was simply issued a cease and desist to stop sending her letters. I don’t even think that’s how that works; Celestia’s address is 11 Wall Street, New Colt City, right?

Right?

Oh whatever, let’s just move on.

The idea that it was an escapee from Tartarus isn’t the only theory that lurks around the minds of ponies. Some believe that the Fleshgait came to be because a callous stallion transformed himself into one when attempting to decipher the Ponyinch Manuscript, having lost his mind when he saw what he had become. This version also states that the stallion created copies of himself so that others could bear witness to the horror that he’d become; a desire to scar all of those who are not like him, should they escape his wrath.

What a saintly figure; he just wants to spread the love.

No matter which version you believe in, one thing is for sure: the Fleshgait is something a great many ponies have encountered all across Equestria. A popular story often shared is that of an earth pony named Cherry Blossom. She and her lover, another earth pony named Midnight Quill, were out camping on the Appleachain’s when they heard several twigs snap in rapid succession. At first, they believed it to be nothing more than a deer rushing by, perhaps running from a bear or timber wolf. Though soon, a cry for help filled the air; the voice of a foal that couldn’t have been more than five-years-old.

According to Cherry, she and Midnight stood up and followed the voice deep into the woods, but no matter how far they went, the voice never got louder, though it also never got fainter. After walking for a few minutes, the voice disappeared entirely and was replaced by a wretched odor that filled the air—a telltale sign of the Fleshgait’s presence. That’s when the creature emerged and came into view—quickly.

It was running right at them.

Both ponies said it was “the most horrific, disgusting thing” they had ever seen. Lanky, flesh-colored, and letting out the most shrill screams either had ever heard. It was “akin to a train barreling towards them”. Without hesitation, both turned tail and ran as fast as they possibly could, not stopping to retrieve any of their belongings (which they never bothered to even try to get). Eventually, they reached the road itself, at which point they collapsed onto the ground; the screeching having ceased. The only thing either could hear was their heavy breathing and the rapid beating of their hearts.

This story piqued my interest, primarily because it’s in every single book related to mysteries and legends in Equestria. Seriously, I went to my local library and nine times out of ten, it was in there. Kudos to the one author (whose name I cannot remember because I didn’t bother to check) who didn’t include it.

Anyways, because I dislike being left out of the cool kids club, I decided to reach out to both Cherry and Midnight, who had since married. They agreed to be interviewed by me, so I made my merry way to their home in Las Pegasus where I sat down with the two and asked them directly: what was this encounter like?

“It was the most insane thing to ever happen to us,” Midnight told me, staring at my fedora and cigar. He requested one, but Cherry slapped him upside the head and said that he should quit smoking. Rubbing his cheek, he continued: “I couldn’t believe something like that was real!”

“I still have nightmares about it,” Cherry added. “You’d think such abominations were only fables, but I saw it with my own eyes. It was running at us. Movements were unnatural; its arms stretched down to its knees. I swear, it was the stuff your nightmares have nightmares about.”

I thanked them for their comment and subsequently left, leaving them dumbfounded as to why I’d made such a big deal about meeting them. This is top-tier journalism and time waits for no one. I also stole one of their lollipops on the way out because reasons.

After paying a five bit fine for petty theft, I returned to my notepad. You see, dear reader: Cherry and Midnight aren’t the only ponies to encounter the Fleshgait—far from it. Countless ponies across the land have seen Fleshgaits! Campers, hikers, it’s like everyone has seen one!

Well, almost everyone…

Okay, nowhere close to everyone.

My point is: reports of Fleshgaits are by no means rare. Credible sightings also aren’t; take for example the famous report involving a troop of Royal Guards that went missing on the road during a training exercise. While the official report dictates that they got lost in the thickness of the forest (which is why a large part of the forest was taken down at 62.10401554464931, 24.459908986464143, should you inspect maps between 1930 and 1931), some blame it on a Fleshgait. This is because there’s a popular rumor involving Princess Celestia investigating the missing troop herself 

The story goes that, upon getting wind of the missing troop, Celestia went out to seek out this creature herself. It’s been said that she is familiar with the stories thanks to her parents talking about it when she was a filly. She set out with a few of the most elite guards she had, only to return the following day, a horrified look on her face—or so say some supposed insiders. As is the case with any insider, take it with a grain of salt.

For the next three days, she stayed in her room and never spoke of what happened in the time she was in the forest. Anyone who questions her is told that the story is a mere urban legend.

According to the insiders mentioned earlier: Celestia saw the Fleshgait for herself and the evil that she felt looking into its soulless eyes drove her mad. The strongest of unicorns from around the nation were subsequently summoned to Canterlot to perform ancient rituals so that she could be brought back to reality.

While Celestia may have (allegedly) had a close encounter of the fleshy kind, she was at least lucky enough to survive. The last case we’ll talk about is known only as the Colt in the Ditch. A tragic story to be sure, an unidentified colt was discovered in, well, a ditch—I know, hard to believe. This colt’s identity has been a mystery for a staggering seven hundred years and the description of what happens to him so graphic, I can’t write about it. Let’s just say that the only reason anyone knew his gender is because whatever mutilated him had the courtesy to shove his genitals through a tree.

This story became the talk of the town in times of yore, spreading like a wildfire across the land. Everyone from Celestia to the lowliest of peasants in Prance knew of the Colt in the Ditch—a pony found in the swamps just outside of Fillydelphia, but no one knew who—or what—did it. As such, a great many legends sprang up about vampires, werewolves, demons, and even beings from another realm sprang up. It’s been speculated that this is where the legend of the Tall Man in the Suit came from on account of his pension for mutilating his victims before whisking them away to his world, forcing them to live out the rest of eternity as mangled bodies, writhing in agony.

Though even the most ardent of paranormal enthusiasts have denounced those ideas products of mass hysteria. As such, let’s hone in on one particular theory before we return to the idea of the Fleshgait: that this murder was the work of The Mad Butcher of Coltsbury Run. The only flaw with this is the walk to and from the swamp is extremely lengthy, talking quite a few days. Of course, given the other unidentified murder victims in a nearby swamp, it isn’t the most implausible theory.

Then, of course, there is the theory that it was the Fleshgait. Given that this is the central topic of this page. At the time of this murder took place, there was a rash of panic surrounding witches and warlocks—sort of like the Pegasus Village Witch Trials. Like contagion, the paranoia had spread to villages near the swamp, leading to accusations from everyone and everything. One of the most famous examples is that of Sir Trottingston of the-then village of Fillydelphia, who was accused of being a warlock by his brother, Sir Trottingsworth.

Such a nonsensical story may seem like, well, pure nonsense, though some claim that just before he was burned, he whispered a curse beneath his breath to never leave this mortal plane, and that he became the Fleshgait we’ve talked about today. Not only that, but some speculate that the colt was his brother and that he’d taken revenge on him as the ferocious, bloodthirsty monstrosity that now lurks in the forest; the warlock having used wicked magics to create clones of himself. You know, kind of like how I described the story of that manuscript at the start, only slightly different. I swear, I’m not making this stuff up!

Er, anyways, there’s one question that lingers over the heads of many: is any of it true? Well, truth be told, I don’t know  and neither does anyone else. As such, I would say that it’s entirely up to you to decide. There has never been any hard evidence to support any of the stories we’ve gone over. While one may speculate that Celestia knows the truth or that Sir Trottingston is in fact the Fleshgait, nothing has ever fully come of the chaotic stories that make up the bulk of campfire stories for the youth today. For now, we can only hope that if it is real, it doesn’t come for us and instead stays in the forest.

Or, well, that’s what I’d say if I didn’t have an idea so amazing, it rivaled that of the wheel. You see, after finishing writing this article, I had the idea to go out and purchase the biggest pig I could find. After asking my boss for about seven-thousand bits, I went out and bought the pig. After that, I went back to my home and tied the pig to a nearby tree. After that, I went to Fluttershy’s house and asked her for some meat that she usually uses to feed her animal friends. After offering her the remaining four-thousand bits I had, I went home with bacon, steak, and even some pork!

Won’t lie, that stuff smells amazing.

Anyways, I left the meat near the pig and went to sleep. You see, I had hoped that a Fleshgait would be attracted to the smell of meat and live pig. In my head, this was the greatest idea ever; even better than that time I tried to lure a serial killer out by chaining a stuffed animal out in the middle of a blizzard with a sign that said “living pony”.

Evidently though, this idea wasn’t quite what I thought it’d be. You see, when I awoke, I found a bear eating the meat and the pig missing. So my expectations were met in about the worst way possible because the bear proceeded to break my door down and tried to maul me. Luckily, I’m a unicorn, so I just vaporized it.

Okay, that’s a lie: I went to the hospital because I lost part of my ear. The bear was killed though. As for the bear, I later learned it was found playing in mud outside of Sweet Apple Acres. So don’t worry, dear animal loving ponies: the bear didn’t eat the pig. I have no idea where it is now, but I’m sure Fluttershy made good use of it.

Anyways, once I got out of the hospital, I decided to get right back to work, writing about flying heads without eyes, zebras with sixteen mouths, and books about cyberpunk board games. After that, I got back to work trying to lure a Fleshgait out to eat meat. I bought more meat and this time, I made sure it was rotten. You see, dear reader, Fleshgaits like rotten meat. Why? I don’t know, you tell me. I’m not someone who pays attention to the logistics of monsters than can transform into ponies.

I digress though! Once the meat had become rotten, I went outside and placed it beneath a big spotlight I bought (it only cost thirty-five bits apparently, though it was also from a pony in a trenchcoat in Canterlot, so who knows if he stole it). So anyways, once night came, I lay in waiting near my window. Alas, Daisy kept telling me to go to sleep, but I told her that this would make me rich, so she told me to not get killed. I told her I wouldn’t, but deep down: I knew I was likely going to die.

Won’t lie, it would’ve been a cool way to go out.

On the first night of this high-end experiment, I only had timberwolves wander onto my property. I just zapified them (which worked about as well as you could imagine to someone who’s now missing part of one ear). Once I’d recovered my dignity, part of a hoof, and paid my hospital bill, I went back to work and began night two.

On the second night of “Bizarre Symbols Does Big Brain Stuff”,  I managed to lure out another bear. I just called animal control and Fluttershy tranquilized it; she asked why it smelled of death in my front yard and I told her the mafia had come by. She ran off and I wondered how long it’d be until the Friendly Bureau of inspectors came my way.

Once the big boys in dark suits asked why I had meat resting under a tree, I got to work on preparing for my third night. This time, I hammered down a big sign that said, “Please visit me, Fleshgaits”. This night, I saw something pale rush across my front yard and that was it. I later learned the local drunk was trying to break in and he’d urinated on my Daisy’s flowers.

So in short, dear reader: Fleshgaits are probably not easy to lure out and also, Though I do believe they are real. I mean, with so many reports from around the nation, I can’t deny that ponies must be seeing something. I mean, how else do you explain it? Collective psychosis? Nah, I don’t think so; I think there’s something out there. I just think they don’t want this kind of meat and by golly, I’m not going out there and murdering somepony!

Er, well, I’d say that’s where I’m going to draw this entry to a close before I start rambling anymore. I think it’s worth mentioning that not all stories in this issue are malevolent. There is one that’s quite uplifting and benevolent in nature. So turn the page as we continue our adventure down the morbidly named road.