Right, I presume that I should start with how I got involved in this mess in the first place; to be honest, I don't really know what happened myself. If I'd take a guess, it all started with me on a normal day at work. I worked as a mechanic on my father's garage, doing just some basic repairs on a few vehicles.
We didn't work strictly on cars, mind you; we repaired lawn mowers, bikes, snowmobiles and basically everything on wheels. 'If you don't know how to repair it, try until you've figured it out.' That's one of the first things he taught me. I basically grew up in a garage, seeing as I was always in one with him since I was three years old, and now I'm seventeen. Time flies when you're having a blast, you know. However, what I thought to be another day at work ended up with throwing my life as I knew it upside-down. No, I won't reference the Fresh Prince of Bel-air. Quit it.
''Sir, if your car isn't starting and it’s been standing still for three years; it usually means that it won't work unless you, or me, drain the tank.'' I rubbed the bridge of my nose, only to curse as I remembered that my hands were still slightly oily from a recent oil change. I was talking on the phone with some stubborn old kook who thought that it would be a brilliant idea to use a car which had gone unused for years. ''Look Sir, does the fuel in the tank smell like cat piss?''
''What?!''
I flinched and moved the phone away from my ear on pure instinct, as I knew that some people often have a very colorful vocabulary when it comes to these kinds of things ''Does the fuel in the tank of your car smell like the urine of an unwashed feline?'' I awaited his answer, and lo and behold, I was right all along! I didn't have the time to celebrate my victory though. ''Alright then, bring it to the shop and I'll get it working in a jiffy. Just keep pumping the gas and it should start, but avoid straining the engine when the fuel is bad. Bye.'' I hung up and sighed heavily, not much rest here, no. My dad was out and repairing a Volkswagen Transporter that had broken down, so I was alone at the garage at the moment. I washed my hands then grabbed a cup of coffee while glancing at the clock. 2.30 pm...
I shrugged and sat down; I could afford taking a short break before the guy with the fuel-problem stopped by. A draft ran through the garage, signaling that someone had just entered it. But the weird thing was that I didn't hear the door opening. I set the cup down on the table and walked out to inspect, nothing was there. Weird... I looked outside just to see two crows sitting in a tree on the other side of the road. I shrugged once again and turned back to get my coffee before it would get cold. Cold coffee isn't good at all, in fact, it's just disgusting.
About five minutes later, another draft went through the building I cursed and stood up, but just as I left the room, I saw a strange man standing there. I had no idea who he was, but damn, he was tall... If I'd dare to guess, he was way about 2 meters tall, if not more. He was wearing a black trench coat with black pants, and to make everything cooler, he even had a black eyepatch! His eye which wasn't covered was icy blue, and I mean so blue that it was almost creepy in some strange way... In his left hand was a cane with a silver handle, and he had three rings on his right hand. He also had a great, white beard. I believe I have just met the world's first black metal pimp, ladies and gentlemen!
I rubbed the back of my neck awkwardly and looked away from him; he was obviously looking at me with interest. So, how am I supposed to tell him that I won't work for him in the shabby streets downtown? I remembered that I had scheduled an appointment, so with hope, I asked the question I really wanted the right answer of. ''So... You're the one with the fuel-problem, yeah?'' The guy just nodded, and I nodded firmly once back to him. ''It's outside, right?'' He nodded once again and chucked the keys to me. With me being a former hockey goalie, I snatched it mid-air without any issues and walked outside. But what I saw actually made me drool.
It was an original 1959 Mercedes Benz 300 SL! I've only seen one of these babies once before, but that was on a car museum. But here, on my father's garage of all places!? I honestly never thought that it would happen. I coughed awkwardly and climbed into the driver's seat. When I triggered the ignition, it sputtered and didn't really want to start, but after a while, it started but it was obvious that it wasn't working at 100%.
When I had driven it inside, I grabbed a few tools from the cart and walked into the pit below the car, so I could get a better view of the tank and where I could drain it. It didn't take long for me to find it and start draining it. All I could do at that moment was to wait. I didn't bother to remove the injection to empty the fuel there, as it would just get pumped out as soon as I started the car again. I forgot to mention that the pit beneath is actually quite warm, so I removed the hoodie I was wearing, revealing the pony shirt I was wearing beneath it.
Yeah, I'm a brony. So what? I like the show and let's leave it at that, alright? Good. TwilightSparkleisbestpony. The dude smiled when he saw the shirt I was wearing, oh goodie... Another brony, how wonderful. Don't get me wrong, I don't mind being with other bronies, but some of them can be a little annoying when they're cramping your personal space the entire time. That's why I avoid meet-ups and such. I like to keep my brony interactions to the internet, but I meet bronies in real life from time to time too. Bro-hooves all around and stuff like that. Jolly good times, y'know.
But that guy's grin was sadistic. God damn, a man looking like that and smiling in that manner almost makes me want to scream for an adult to help me. I surpressed my urge to run and never look back as I climbed up from the pit. ''The tank's been drained, I just have to fill it up with some fuel and you're good to go.'' I shuddered as I walked into the back and picked up a can of petrol. It wasn't that much in it, but it would be sufficent.
''Good.'' The man finally spoke. His accent was like a mix of Scandinavian accents with a little German edge, sprinkled with a dash of Finnish. I raised an eyebrow, but ignored it as I filled the tank with what was left of the petrol. ''Tell me son,'' He started walking toward me, and I shifted my eyes to him and back to the car. ''Have you ever dreamed of going to the land of the ponies you adore?'' His eye narrowed.
The first thought to hit my brain was the endless amounts of bad fanfics stemmed just from that idea. 'Oh boohoo my life sucks, I'll kill myself and somehow get to Equestria, where I fulfill my own weird dreams of boinking one of the mane 6, whilst defeating some kind of ancient evil, preferably the Nightmare or Discord!'. I think I just recited the entire plot line of about half of them all, if not more. Way to be original and think outside the box, brony fandom... I looked up to see the guy still standing there with that freaky grin of his. It's starting to unnerve me quite a bit, actually.
''Well?'' He asked impatiently. I groaned and pinched the bridge of my nose. This was starting to become kind of aggravating... But maybe I should play along for a while, entertain the customer and all that jazz. I screwed back the cap to the tank and stood up and stretched my back. Better get this over with before it's too late.
''Well...'' I pondered while stroking my chin. ''If I ever managed to get there, I would likely be overcome with boredom pretty quickly. I need some action and excitement. I wouldn't want to be a pony, as that would be insanely cliché.'' The more I acted, the more I put some actual thought behind my reasoning. ''I'd rather go to the bordering lands of Equestria, like that map that's on Walmart illustrates. The Badlands would be pretty cool to visit, I'd rather go there first, actually.'' I shrugged and looked over to the man, who just nodded. He was obviously deep in thought with something.
''What would you want to be, if not a pony?'' He asked while cracking his knuckles. He can't be serious... Is he a mental patient who escaped from the ward? Yeah, I'm pretty sure I don't like where this is going... Wherever this is going...
''I... I'unno, something unusual. S-s-something that ha-haven't been used b-before, as I want to k-keep things fresh...'' I presume I didn't mention that when I become nervous, I stutter. I didn't really score any points when I asked a girl out with my stuttering problem. Needless to say, I was neglected and rightfully so.
''Let us do this then.'' He charged towards me, and I sidestepped away from him while screaming like a little gi- I mean, shouting obscenities like a manly man, of course! Heh... Heh... I grabbed a sledgehammer and prepared to swing it toward the psycho, but just before I could do it, he grabbed me by my neck in a choke-hold. He could strangle me without issues with just one hand, and that's actually pretty impressive. His hand was huge.
I was wheezing for air as he lifted me. Damn, that dude was strong... I felt his grip only tighten even more by every passing second. 'Kay, now I started panicking. I tried kicking him, but it was no use. He held me by an arm's length away from him, and he moved me to hang over the pit. I felt tears in the corners of my eyes.
I was going to get murdered by a black metal pimp who loves ponies. Not a proud moment, to be honest. I honestly thought that I would be killed by being careless, or just by some disease when I'm old. Way to exceed all expectations, me...
I couldn't breathe or move at all now. I allowed my arms to hang limply to my sides, but his grip was still tightening. I clenched my eyes shut, awaiting the end.
Snap!
All the feelings in my body vanished, and I couldn't feel anything. My vision faded as I crumpled to the floor down in the pit. Fuck my life...
The first thing to hit my senses was a distinctive smell of sulphur. I wrinkled my nose in disgust and rolled over. This wasn't a nice way of waking up after... After... Wait.
Sweet Mother of Morgan Freeman, that son of a bitch killed me! But wait, if he killed me, shouldn't I be dead right now? Unless I'm in hell... I cracked my eyes open, just to cringe because of the light. I groaned, but it sounded more like a deep growl of some sort... Well shit, I don't think this is a good sign. Or I could just have gotten one hell of a cold. I presume you can guess which one I hope it is...
''About time you woke up.'' That voice... I opened my eyes to see none other than the black metal pimp sitting on the other side of the cave... wall? So I'm in a cave? Oh well, I could get used to it once I get a hold of the situation unfolding.
''You...'' I growled, and it was an actual growl. Damn, this must be the coldest cold in the history of colds. Is there even such a thing? Oh right, I was doing something... ''What did you do to me?'' I attempted to stand up, but the closest thing I got to standing was a weird hunching posture. I was bracing myself with my arms; they were really skinny and looked like they wouldn't actually be able to support me. But the claws on the hands... Dayum. They looked like knives, and they were if I'd guess about 15, maybe 20 centimeters long each. I had three long claws, and one claw which looked like a thumb on both of my hands.
''I just brought you where you wanted to be, child.'' He shrugged and looked up to me with that same sadistic grin as before. ''It was what you wanted, wasn't it?'' By the tone he said that, I could tell right away that it was a rhetorical question and didn't bother to answer him. ''And to answer your question of what you are; look over there.'' He pointed toward a small puddle of water in the far side of the cave.
I walked over to it with this peculiar new style of walking, it took a while to get there but when I looked down at the reflection, my jaw dropped and revealed the rows teeth inside.
I looked like a big, fuzzy... Human-looking-thing with a hunchback. Damn I was ugly. Two teeth on my jaw stuck out slightly, revealing them even when my mouth was closed. My eyes were red, and I mean like, glowing red. I was a sight to behold, alright... ''What the hell am I?'' I squinted.
''You're a Callicantzaros.'' He said matter-of-factly.
''A what?'' I stuck out my tongue, just to see a long, snakelike thing loll out. I shuddered and withdrew it. That thing was gross.
''Callicantzaros. A vampire. I would suggest that you keep out of the sun's rays.'' Wait, vampire? He better damn well hope that I don't sparkle, or else...
''I hate you. So much.'' I deadpanned and turned away from him, just to see him standing right in front of me again. I jumped back. How the hell did he do that? ''What do you want from me?'' I growled. That asshole killed me, brought me to what could be what's equivalent of hell in a world of colorful ponies, turned me into a vampire and is now blocking me from going anywhere. Oh no, I'm not pissed at all... Really. Totally not angry.
''Oh, you're just my pawn in a little game.'' He said mysteriously. I figured out that I wouldn't get an answer from him, so I just huffed and looked away from him. ''Go to Equestria, you'll maybe find some answers there.'' He added with a roll of his hand. I really, really, really don't like this guy. I mean, seriously?! He wants me to do shit for him, when he killed me? Jesus H. Tap-dancing Christ on a cracker, what kind of prank was this?
Whatever... To Equestria to find answers, eh... Yay, ponies. Maybe they'll help me? I bet they're helpful and won't judge me for looking like a donkey's behind. Well, better get to it then.
''Sure, whatever...'' I groaned as I walked to the mouth of the cave. ''...Ass.''
A/N: Pre-read by Io and frieD195, edited by frieD195. Don't expect this to update very often, as this is a side-thing to my other projects. I wrote this for shits and giggles. Non-canon story to the universe so I can play out my thing.