Twilight’s seen some shit.
She’s seen flamboyant sea serpents, she’s seen Pinkie’s enigmous sense of future-telling, she’s seen a vicious dragon break down into tears, she’s seen her little dragon assistant become a vicious dragon, she’s seen the three-headed guard dog of Tartarus act like a playful puppy in the presence of a bouncing ball, she’s seen everything that Discord could do, she’s seen, first-hoof, the workings and effects of time travel, and she’s seen her longtime foalhood friend in the form of a maniacal, overgrown bug with swiss cheese for legs.
But a hulking, green, bipedal alien dancing on his toes and squealing like a fan-mare? That could also be added to the list. The top of the list.
“OhmiGork ohmiGork ohmiGork!” The extraterrestrial visitor gushed. “It’s really yew! Youz Twilight Sporkle!”
“W-what?” The lavender librarian was still confused beyond belief. This kind of thing tended to catch her off-guard.
He made wild gestures with his arms, both metal and biological. “Youz da oonicorn dat... daauhh... did stuff...” He scratched his bare head before his face contorted into an expression of revelation. “Yew krumped dat Dishcord guy good dat one time.”
Twilight blinked. How could he possibly know that?
“Aaaand dem giant bugs. I’ve kilt me sum giant bugs, too. My bugs’r scarier.”
“Now, hold on...” Despite his still-imposing height, she began working up the courage to speak.
“‘Course, dere was Noightmare Moon, but yew didn’t really krump ‘er. Yew don’ really do a lotta krumpin’ lookin’ at it.”
“Just stop!” Twilight finally built the nerve to confront this strange beast. “I... I don’t... how did...” She stopped to gather her thoughts. “Who, and what, are you?”
The creature smiled. It was a big grin, one that was full of teeth. It unnerved her.
“Me? Name’s Grundy!” He beat his chest with his natural arm. The miscellany of things attached to his person clattered and clanked. “Mekboy Grundy! Iz an ork, and we orks’r made fer foightin’ an’ winnin’!”
His thick, brutish speech grinded harshly against her ears like coarse sandpaper, but it was understandable. That would be another thing she’d have to explore. Her mind was exploding with questions, and, as far as she could tell, she was currently out of danger, so she could pursue those questions. But, first thing’s first:
“How do you know my name?”
“Not jus’ yers!” He counted off with his mechanical fingers. “Dere’s Applejack an’ Rainbow Dash an’ Fluttershoy an’ Rarity, an’ Pinkay Poie, an’... uhh... I fink dat’s it.”
The unicorn was becoming even more addled. “Yeah, how do you know those names?”
“Dem techno-boxes da ‘umies have told me.”
She looked like a grot in a headlight.
“Uhh...” Grundy attempted to elaborate. “Yew know? ‘Umies. Hu-mans.” He struggled with the proper pronunciation. It didn’t feel natural to him.
Twilight shook her head slowly, then faster as her frustration increased. “No! That doesn’t make any sense! How do you know our names and what we’ve done when I’ve never seen anything like you?”
Something occurred to Grundy, something that would have never occurred in the mind of a regular ork, besides seeing something like Twilight and not instantly wanting to kill it. Orks never really had to worry about existential matters, because their lives were simple. They lived to fight, whether it was each other, the humies, the Chaos Boyz, the blue guys, or whatever. They never questioned anything beyond how to kill things faster, make things go fast, make things ‘splodier, or how to live longer so they could kill more things. It occurred to him that this pony may not want to know that she was the product of the minds of the humies given form through a cartoon show for humie grots. Instead of telling her outright, he used his usual method of evasion when it came to explaining things.
“...Ferget wot I said before... uh... I knew ya...” He smiled and proudly placed his fists on his hips. “‘Cause oi’m brainy like dat!”
There was silence between the two of them. Twilight would never in the right mind accept that answer, but looking at the ork, she knew that was the only answer she was getting.
“Ok, so... Grundy, is it? Uh... where do you come from?”
Grundy removed his goggles as he pondered this, displaying is natural red, beady eyes instead of glowing orange. “Well, zog... last planert I waz on waz... uhh... mefinks da ‘umies called it...” He itched his bald cranium. “I fergot. Dey weren’t too keen on screamin’ dat out when we kilt ‘em. ‘Ar ‘ar ‘ar...” He chuckled.
As one would expect, Twilight was mortified. “You... killed them?”
“Yeah!” He stated matter-of-factly.
“But... how could you...!”
“We orks jus’ go to a planert, kill all da fings dere, an’ den it’s our planert.” He explained. “Dat lash one was real ‘asy, though. None of dem tough ‘umies tah kill us back.”
“But what about their friends!? Their families!?”
“Das ‘kay ‘cause we kilt ‘em too.” He lit another cigar.
“NO! THAT’S NOT OKAY!” She shouted. Grundy raised a brow.
“But... we’z orks’r made fer foightin’ an’ winnin’...”
“It’s not right!”
The Mek didn’t particularly like being shouted at, so he started to shout back. “Well maybe I don’t wants tah be roight! Didja fink a’ dat?!”
“But that planet belonged to them! Why couldn’t you let them have it?!”
“‘Cause... da orks wanted it!”
“You didn’t have to kill them!”
“Maybe we’z wanted tah kill ‘em!”
“That’s also not good!”
“I ain’t kilt yew yet, ya gonna fank me fer dat?”
“And why not?!”
The argument came to a full stop.
“Well... uh... ‘cause yer... ya know... a p’noy... an’...” Twilight swore she saw his face turn a darker green.
“And...?” She coaxed on.
“An’... I LOIK P’NOYS, KAY?” He huffed in clear frustration. “All dem uvvah orks’r loik, ‘oh Grundy likes dem p’noys, he un-orky’, ya know? Gork, it PISSERS ME OFF!” He jabbed a thumb at his chest. “Iz still an ork! A Mek! One’a da best dere iz! I made dis arm fer meself!” He pointed to the mechanical limb Twilight usually found herself staring at for the majority of the time talking with Grundy. “Dem uvvah Meks would shat dere brainz out jus’ finkin’ about makin’ somefin’ loik dis! Oh... but dey don’ care! Dey jus’ want a new Shoota, or a Rokkit launcher, or dere bikes fixed. None a’ dem go tah Grundy fer a new arm, dey jus’ go tah Painboy Sawbones, ‘er somefink, an’ when dey finds out I loik p’noys, dey ferget all about wot I did fer ‘em! Gork an’ Mork, wots wrong wiff ‘em, eh?!”
“Grundy!” The unicorn managed to stop the ork’s hysterical rantings. She warily glanced around at the dark, unknown forest around them. “You think we can continue this somewhere else?”
Grundy blinked his tiny, predatory eyes. “Shore.”
“Ok, just... follow me...” She started to clop off in one direction, then did a double-take and remembered the true direction to the path. “This way.”
They exited the clearing, the ork noisily stomping along after the purple unicorn.
“So, can you tell me about your kind?”
+++++
In the time it took for them to reach the path, Twilight had sorted all the jumbled information in her head. From what she had discovered so far, Grundy was part of a race of savage, war-like beings whose motivation, reasoning, and thought-process consisted purely of violence. They traveled in droves from planet to planet, organized into loose bands or tribes, for the sake of fighting, killing, maiming, or otherwise destroying whatever is on that certain planet. Their hierarchy was determined solely by physical strength and individuality was practically non-existent. They ate anything they could get their hands on, even if it was other orks, and drank alcohol in the form of a beer fermented from mushrooms or something. They were capable of making some pretty advanced technology that was somehow encoded into some of their genes. Grundy tried to explain how he could build all that complex stuff. He said it “just popped up in his brain” when he went to work. Instinct. This puzzled Twilight further.
What really irked her was the fact that their entire race was obsessed with fighting. Fighting “humies”, fighting “space elfs”, or even fighting each other. They needed violence as much as they needed to breathe. Such a thing in the mind of a peace-loving equine was abhorrent, to say the least. But that understatement did no justice. It was appalling, disgusting, just plain horrific! Ponies worked hard to keep peace when they were surrounded by less agreeable races of their world, such as the gryphons. They offered trade, compromised, avoided confrontation at all costs. Orks, however, sought conflict. They sparked anger and they ignited wars. They loved breaking, smashing, and crushing like ponies loved to pursue their quiet lives excelling in their special talent. They were like the polar opposite of ponies. Such a thing would not bode well for Equestria. That brought up another urgent question: what was she going to do with him?
When they arrived at the open path, Grundy was explaining the ork sub-races.
“If ya wanna get speshific ‘bout it, ya call ‘em gretchin, but erraone jus’ calls ‘em grots. We kick ‘em around an dey do stuff fer us. We got plenty a’ dem, so Runtherds send ‘em in packs to foight. Dey don’ do much, but least dere ain’t so many a’ dem no more. Dere annoying. Smalla still, ya got da snotlings. Dey puny-brained little fings that get kicked ‘round by da grots like da grots get kicked ‘round by da orks. We jus’ use ‘em as ammo.”
“We’re here.” Twilight spoke. She wasn’t sure she could take any more talk of wanton abuse. They came to the clear path that wasn’t so choked by growth. Here, a pony could find his or her way through the forest without getting lost in the tangled vegetation.
“Soo...” Grundy drawled. “Where’r we?”
“We’re on a path somewhere in Everfree forest.”
“Ah, yeah, Evarfree. Dat place. Wiff all da wood-wuffs. Dat I krumped. Hur hur hur...”
Twilight put a hoof to her forehead. She suddenly had a very bad headache. What to do, what to do?
“When do I get tah see all yer... ya know... friends?”
She almost choked. “What?!”
He counted off using his fingers. Again. “Dere’s Applejack an’ Rainbow Dash-”
“No! NO! You can’t see them!”
Grundy looked hurt. “Why not?”
“Because... you...” She tried to find the right words. There weren’t a variety of nice adjectives she could use to describe him. “You’re a big, scary... thing... and they’d all just run away, or try to fight you!”
The ork cocked a wicked grin. “Got no problem wiff dat.”
“No, wait! Let me reword that...” Celestia, it was like talking to a small colt. A colt who’s been playing too many video games. “You can’t just solve everything with violence...”
She might as well have told him that fire isn’t hot, or water isn't wet.
“Just bear with me for a sec! Think for a moment about things from the point of view of... a pony like me.”
He put a clawed hand to his huge, square chin. Even though, as far as he knew, he was the only ork expert on the world of ponies, he wasn’t familiar with their mindset. It was hard for him to imagine himself as a pony, or anything smaller than himself. He liked having hands and walking on two legs. Bipedalism rules. So, he settled on the next best thing: a grot. Grots usually cower when a big ork stomps along. Afraid they’d get stepped on. Yeah, he could imagine some problem presenting themselves when he would try to introduce himself to the other ponies. But would that have stopped the stubbornness of an ork? Not by a longshot.
“I’m shore we can fink’a somefin’. Youz got da smartiest ork yer evah gonna get!”
“You can’t, Grundy, you just... can’t.” Twilight took a deep breath in, a deep breath out, and went into full lecture mode. She closed her eyes to shut out all distractions, she firmly planted her haunches on the ground, and she raised her good hoof for visual gestures. “Our... cultures... our societies... they don’t match up. You have an entirely different line of thinking from a pony, not to mention you look like you’d eat them. Also, in all respects and accordences to Equestrian law, you are technically classified as a monster, albeit an intelligent one, so you being in Ponyville would present a danger to society itself! And another thing, ponies don’t tend to solve all their problems with violence-”
Grundy stopped her for moment. “Uh... wish way is Ponyville?”
She pointed down the path. “It’s that way.”
“Fanks.”
“Don’t mention it.” She said off-hoofedly as she continued her lecture. “As I was saying, violence of any kind is abhorred in Equestria. We solved our problems with careful, thoughtful words and diplomacy. We worked hard to build the peace we all know today, and your mere presence may unravel all that work-”
Twilight opened her eyes the instant her brain caught up with her. Nothing stood in front of her, just cold, empty space. She twisted her head in the direction of Ponyville to see a shrinking streak of green bounding its way towards the town.
“OI’M COMIN’ P’NOYS!!!!!!”
“Wait! No! Come back!” She raced after the ork as fast as her librarian legs would carry her.
+++++
Somewhere in the Ponyville park, two mares sat on a bench in swirling emotional turmoil. One of them, with her curly, two-toned, pink-and-dark-blue mane, tried to comfort her seafoam green friend-turned-lover. They were at the breaking point. The crossroads. It was at this point when they would either heal their tenuous relationship, or they would separate and never see one another ever again.
“Lyra, please, just look at me.” Bon-Bon pleaded as she nudged the unicorn’s thigh. Lyra refused to look in her direction. In her peculiar slumped sitting position, she kept her neck turned the other way. She couldn’t stand the hurt look on her face. Those big, quivering eyes would do nothing to help her. She was so confused on where to go, what to say. She wasn’t sure she could face Bon-Bon ever again after what she had said.
“At least talk to me! It me, Bon-Bon, remember? We agreed that you can talk to me about anything.”
“I’m not so sure I can talk to you about this.” Lyra finally replied.
“You can tell me anything. Anything! I would listen because... I love you.”
Lyra turned in her direction slightly. Tears ran down her cheeks. “I don’t think I can say the same anymore.”
With a sharp gasp, Bon-Bon withdrew. Pain filled her eyes. But, with some extra thought, she knew why. Her face contorted into a visage of anger.
“It because I’m not human, isn’t it?”
The seafoam green musician turned away again. “That’s not it...”
“That is it! That’s all you ever talk about! All you ever think about!” She lowered her voice. “Why do you have to obsess over something that’s not real?”
Lyra turn towards her. “They are real, I know it! Why would those book have information so detailed if they weren’t?”
“Anypony could make that up with a vivid enough imagination! You said it yourself, you don’t even know where those books came from!”
“It’s not just the books!” She cast her eyes downward. “It also... the dreams. One night, I dreamed of them. They were a bit out-of-focus, but I knew it was them! With their hands and their legs and their faces... it felt so real... they felt so close... I didn’t know how I would live with myself after I found out it was just a dream.”
“That’s all it was. That’s all it ever was, Lyra.” She placed her hoof over her companion’s. “A dream.”
Lyra pulled away once more, but Bon-Bon continued.
“Put your faith in something that is real, like me. I’m real. I’m here for you. I’ll always be here for you. Through thick and thin, I’ll always be there to believe in you, just as I always have. I just need you to believe in me.”
The unicorn stared into her big, sky-blue eyes and thought. Should she give up her foalish obsession with humans? Or should she continue to hope that here was some soul-mate out there, waiting for her?
“Bon-Bon... I... I...”
Lyra yelped as she was suddenly yanked away from her marefriend and subjected to a violent, two-fisted handshake by a bipedal creature with hands and legs and a face.
“Moi name’s Grundy, nice tah meet ya, I’m a big fan a’ yer work.” He breathed on her. It was the most horrific stench in the galaxy laced with a burning tobacco farm. No words could possibly describe the festering rot that rose from his throat. It was enough to make Cthulhu himself reach for his lucky bucket. Celestia, she could taste it. He kept shaking her hoof. His metallic hand was cold enough to be felt through her fur. It stung her skin.
“I noticed dat yew two seem tah hang out a lot. Yew guys mus’ be best buds ‘er somefink.” His words reverberated painfully in her ear canals. His speech was almost too ramshackle to understand. When he stopped throttling her entire body with his massive arms, Lyra finally got a good look at him. His ugly, green, greasy, leather-like face was chocked full of creases and huge, pointy, yellowed teeth that jutted from his jaw like the spines of a dragon. His beady, red eyes frothed with an aura of brutality. He loomed over her like a mountain of meat. Her mouth hung open. Bon-Bon’s mouth hung open. Both said nothing.
“Well, gotta go. More fings tah see an’ all dat guff.” He bounded off further into town, pumping his arms in the air and hollering in jubilation. Galloping desperately after him a ways away was Twilight Sparkle, who was screaming obscenities, red-faced, in an attempt to catch up with the green beast, who was evidently very good at running.
Lyra sat agape on the ground. She was trying to recover her cognition after having all five of her senses raped simultaneously. After a minute or so, she whirled around to Bon-Bon with a shaky smirk on her lips and said:
“Ya know what? Buck humans.”
Lyra mashed her mouth to Bon-Bon’s in a deep, loving embrace. When she got home that night, she would burn all those books and humans would never enter her mind ever again.
+++++
Rarity pried her weary face from her desk. In front of her was a blank piece of parchment, taunting her with its emptiness. The fashionista sighed loudly. Her hair was a mess, her eyes drooped with fatigue, and her head was overheating from the frustration. Her neck-muscles ached with soreness. She knew this feeling all too well.
She was in a creative slump. She couldn’t, for the life of her, come up with any new ideas. She sat there, and sat there, and sat there, but nothing would present itself in her head. She tried scribbling on her parchment to see if she could spontaneously ignite some form of inspiration, but she ended up crumpling that up and tossing it aside. She tried that several more times with the same outcome. Her floor was dotted with balls of wadded up paper. Her room was quite dim, as she drew all the shades to keep the light from bothering her eyes. From what light was seeping through the blinds, and the emptiness of her stomach, she could tell that too much time had passed since she started. She’s had enough.
In a final, heaving gesture of defeat, Rarity hopped off her stool. She drew the blind-string and let the afternoon sun come cascading in. She winced hard. When her pupils adjusted to the brightness, she peered outside. It was a perfect day by all standards. The weather was comfortable, the air was quiet, and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky.
“It would be a shame to let this good day go to waste cooped up in here.” She said to herself. “I think I’ll take a walk and try again tomorrow.”
Her mind set, she went to her bathroom to make herself presentable. “Just a quick primp,” she told herself, “No special occasion, just a walk around town.”
-45 minutes later-
“Expedient!” She congratulated herself as she exited the bathroom. Trotting down the stairs, she headed to her kitchen for a quick snack. Then, she chose a modest, wide-brimmed hat to keep the sun out of her eyes. Rarity exited her boutique with a pleasant smile and closed the door behind her. She began heading for the street when a commotion perked her ears. It appeared that some ponies were... running. Either towards something or away from something. Their screaming suggested the latter.
“RUN! MONSTER!!”
“RUN AWAY!!!”
“THE HORROR, THE HORROR!!!”
Rarity raised an eyebrow. This was all very peculiar. What could they possibly be running away from-?
As that thought crossed her head, she turned around. Right in her face was green skin, teeth, and red, beady eyes.
“Hi dere.”
She froze. Her joints locked up. Her breathing halted. She stood stock still, her face on the precipice of a scream, suspended in time. Grundy became puzzled. He waved a meaty hand in front of her unblinking eyes. No response or reaction whatsoever.
“Huh...” On a silly whim, and seeing that Rarity clearly wouldn’t mind, he plucked the hat from her head and tried it on. Too big. It covered his eyes. He tossed it aside. Looking behind him, he saw that the purple unicorn was catching up. He’d better get his run on, if you know what I mean. I mean he’d better start running again.
Twilight slowed down in front of her friend, panting madly. She looked over the extent of the damage Grundy had caused to the fashionista's psyche.
“Rarity! RARITY!!!” Still no response from the traumatised mare. “Rarity! Oh, for Celestia’s sake...”
Sprinting after the ork, she left her to stare blankly into the distance.
+++++
Mr. Cake hummed quietly as he wiped the bakery counter clean again. It was another busy day at Sugarcube Corner. The usual patrons were gathered for a late lunch. Mr. Cake’s wife, Mrs. Cake, was in the kitchen, finishing up a delicious batch of tiramisu for their anniversary party tonight, a party that Pinkie Pie wouldn’t be attending. Speaking of which, the exuberant pink pony was out playing with the children at the playground, so everything was relatively quiet.
There was a bang at the door as a steel-toed boot kicked it open. The muscled, green behemoth that was Grundy turned to get his broad frame through the narrow frame. Everypony on the bakery immediately stopped eating and gazed, wide-eyed, at the the ork as he stomped towards the counter. Without another second’s hesitation, all of them dropped their food, leapt out of their chairs, and ran out the door, screaming. Mr. Cake ducked under the counter, trembling. Grundy’s figure blotted out the light and cast a shadow over the slender, orange earth pony. He peeked over the edge to see the monster looking down upon him with his menacing eyes.
“H-honey...?” Carrot Cake called out to his wife. There was a click from the kitchen door as the deadbolt latched into place. Cupcake had heard the commotion, checked it out, and promptly barricaded herself with everything she could muster between her and the green beast, including her husband. Mr. Cake would enjoy that tiramisu a lot less that night.
The grotesque creature then reached into his pouch, withdrew a great fistful of something, and hovered it over the counter. The fist loosened and pointed, ivory teeth clattered and bounced onto the freshly-wiped surface.
“Oi’d loik sum cupcakes.” Grundy spoke. “Wiff pink frostin’.”
+++++
Twilight huffed hard as she stumbled to catch her breath. Spending most of her time reading books in her library does not give her any reserves of physical endurance, not by a long-shot. Not to mention she hadn’t really been doing a lot of outside time recently. She wouldn’t dare admit it to anypony else, but she was getting a bit chubby... Her legs felt like they were on fire, but she had to keep running. She could probably give them a reason to keep running. Surely, her legs knew the importance of her catching up to that vehement beast. Mister Legs?
“Mister Legs don’t trouble himself with such queersome notions.” Her legs replied. “Go find us a nice-ol’ shady spot to take rest and reflect on the day’s doin’s.”
That wasn’t an option, so she mushed on. She had to keep going. Already, the townsfolk were panicking and word was spreading fast. She had to get Grundy out of Ponyville before anarchy took over and everything was out of her control. But, as she gradually picked up speed, she couldn’t help the feeling niggling in the back of her brain that she forgot something. Something important...
+++++
After nearly fifteen minutes of waiting diligently by the door, Zecora’s smile finally faded. She slumped down to the rough, wooden floor of her cozy hut. She wasn’t coming, that she knew. She knew that Twilight would never be this late unless she wasn’t coming at all. The zebra bit her lip, trying to suppress the tears that would inevitably come. She messed up. She failed. Her tenuously-built boldness got the better of her. She pressed too hard and alienated her good friend. She was a fool to try and make her friendship with the librarian something more. She didn’t even know if Twilight loved her back.
“Zecora, you stupid mare. You’ve severed your friendship beyond repair.”
She tossed aside the bouquet of beautiful, carefully picked wild flowers.
She doused the glowing candles and dumped the food off of their plates.
She put away all the books they would have discussed and all the good time they would have shared.
She went to her raggedy bed and collapsed into it, sobbing into the pillow until a somber slumber took her.
+++++
Whatever it was, it couldn’t have possibly been more important than this.
Twilight saw that Grundy had entered Sugarcube Corner, indicated by the herd of screaming ponies exiting the bakery. She dodged the crowd of mindless fear and ran for the door. Upon pushing it open, she found the room completely empty, save the discarded meals on the tables and her quarry, who was sitting in the middle of the bakery on a creaking, wooden chair that was way too small and flimsy to hold his immense weight, placidly munching on a big platter of pink cupcakes. Twilight, her appendages screaming for rest, dragged her hooves up to the table and plopped on the floor, belly up. She was hyperventilating, but that didn’t stop her from chiding the alien as he ate.
“Do you... have... any idea... what you’ve done...?” She said between pants.
“I’ll get back tah yer on dat soon as I give a zog.” He put another cupcake in his garbage compactor of a maw. It still had the wrapper on, though, but he didn’t seem to notice.
She managed to stand herself on wobbly hooves. “I have... been... working my flank... to catch up to you!”
“Ya didn’ ‘arf tah.”
“What?!”
“Ya didn’ ‘arf tah, ya know.” He threw another cupcake in and chomped. “Youz like a pony Weirdboy, roight? Wiff da magic an’ stuff? Ya coulda jus’ tellerported tah me er somefin’.”
Twilight opened her mouth, but no sound came out. He was right. She forgot she could teleport. Her cheeks puffed as her anger and frustration boiled over.
“Listen to me! Right now there’s a town out there that’s in total chaos because of you! Not only that, but you put my friend in a catatonic state! I thought you wanted to meet my friends, not scare them to death!!!”
He stopped eating, holding one of the spongy confections precariously between his fingers. “Rarity’s... loik... moi least favorite p’noy.” He resumed chomping.
A vein appeared on Twilight’s forehead. “You’re only causing more and more problems for us, you stupid oaf! Why don’t you just get out of Ponyville before you destroy it!”
“Yeah, an’ I fink I’ll take a jog tah Canterlot, ‘ow ‘bout dat? Sure da princess would lerve me dere.”
She was on the verge of an aneurysm. “No! How about you just go back to wherever you came from! We don’t want you here! Just look at all the mayhem you’ve caused!” She thrust her hoof towards the window, which viewed the town nearly barren, for all the ponies have gone somewhere to take shelter. A few hysterical townsfolk were still dodging their way for cover. “They’re all frightened and scared to tears because of you! Have you no shame?! What do you have to say for yourself?!?!”
Grundy picked up the last cupcake, almost lethargically, from his tray and looked at it long and hard. He then turned to the fuming mare and pointed to the food.
“Dis is good stuff.” He tossed it down his gullet, swallowed, and belched. “So what were ya sayin’? I kinda tuned ya out dere fer a sec.”
That was the last straw. Twilight’s blood boiled. Her eyes seared red and her coat became white-hot. Her mane burst into flames. Her entire body exuded pure, burning fury as she hovered inches from the ground, grinding her teeth together like tectonic plates in rage. Then, she sputtered out and deflated to the floor. Gentle wisps of smoke evaporated from her mane, doused like a candle.
“Oh... what’s the use.” She sighed and scooched herself closer to Grundy and gazed up at him with her big, wooby eyes. “Please, please, please, please, pleeease, just leave Ponyville for now. That’s all I ask of you. If you’re not going to do it for the well-being of this town, could you at least do it for me?”
Grundy groaned and stood up from his tiny, creaking chair. “Mmmm... fine.” He pulled out another cigar, lit it from a still-burning ember on the unicorn’s mane, and put it in his teeth.
Twilight breathed a sigh of relief. This situation was still salvageable. She could get the ork out of the town and calm the citizens before all order was lost. As what to do with him, that was something she was still trying to figure out. All that mattered was that, after Grundy was secured in a safe place, away from the town, she would have time to think.
Suddenly, the door burst open once more, followed by a blur of cyan and the fading wisp of a rainbow trail. A gust of turbulence filled the room, rattling papers and pushing thing off their tables, ruffling Twilight’s mane and begetting the attention of the green barbarian. Rainbow Dash fluttered heroically a few feet from the floor, eyes ablaze with passion and righteousness.
“I’m here to kick your flank, monster!” She shouted while thrusting a hoof in the ork’s direction.
“Oh no...” Twilight folded her ears over her head.
“ROIGHT THEN!” Grundy shouted, galvanized into animation. With one effortless motion, he tossed the heavy table aside. In crashed into another table with a crack of splintering wood and a splatter of food. Dash wasn’t fazed in the slightest, having complete conviction in her actions. In a show of bravado, the ork spun his mechanical joints so the servo-motors would give the greatest amount of noise, and then pounded both of his fists together with a clank of metal and a pop of dense bone. “LESSE ‘OW YA FOIGHT, DARSHIE!!”
“Grraaaaahh!!!” The pegasus cried and charged at the Mek, who did the same in his own fashion.
“WAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!!!!”
+++++
In a secluded, quieter portion of Equestria sat a small pond. Its water was still, but as clear and clean as rain. The sinking sun shimmered in its rippling surface, giving the pond an orange color. Suddenly, one at a time, three filly head broke the surface of the water, gasping for air. Water clung to their fur, chilling them until they shivered.
“Alright. What’d you gals get?” Piped Apple Bloom. The three raised their hooves from the water, each displaying a tangled mess of soggy straw. They groaned in disappointment.
“Aww nuts.” Scootaloo lamented, splashing her petite wings in the water. “It didn’t work.”
“Heck, ah’m not even sure how that woulda worked.”
“Umm... girls?” Sweetie Belle squeaked. “You think Twilight was being sarcastic when she said we could get our cutie marks in underwater basket weaving?”
“Probably.” Scoots threw her ugly straw-mess to the water beyond. “She seemed like she was in a hurry to get to Zecora’s.”
The other two fillies disposed of their wads in return. “What would that cutie mark even look like?” Apple Bloom questioned rhetorically.
Without another word, the trio swam back to shore and trudged out of the pond, dripping wet. They shook off the wetness like dogs. Their moods were crestfallen. They cast their eyes to the ground from yet another failed attempt at finding their special talents.
Sweetie Belle remained ever-optimistic. “Well, we can try again tomorrow, right?”
Apple Bloom kicked a bit of brown soil and grass from the ground with her forehoof. “Ah don’ know, Sweetie. Ah’m startin’ tah think we’ll never get our cutie marks.” She sank even further. “We’re gonna end up like Ol’ Hayseed, shovelin’ muck th’ rest of our lives.”
“Don’t say that, Bloom!” Scootaloo snapped. “We’ve only been at it every day for... uh... well... about a year...” She started to slump as well, but bounced back. “But we still got our whole lives ahead of us! Plenty of time to get our cutie marks!” She glanced uneasily towards Sweetie Belle. “Right?”
The little unicorn didn’t have an answer. It was a terrible thing, to be without a place in the world. To not know your purpose, your destiny. For them, the crushing reality was becoming ever clearer and more depressing with each passing day. They’ve spent about every ounce of free time experimenting and delving into various trades and talents, but to no avail. They’ve turned their head to check their flanks more times than they could count, expecting to find something filling that empty space, but only felt disappointment. They all knew it was getting too much to bear. They were entering their final grade of school as the only blank-flanks of the class. They weren’t sure if they could suffer any more torment from Diamond Tiara and her friend. They certainly don’t want to be still conspiring in their treehouse by the time they were Ms. Cheerilee’s age.
With sunken hearts and downcast looks, the three of them said their somber goodbyes and their usual agreement to return tomorrow at the treehouse, same time, same goal. Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle headed for the scooter-wagon complex that served as their transportation, leaving Apple Bloom a minute to herself, sulking. She sighed a deep, fatigued sigh and picked herself up and began to hoofslog her way to the cart with the rest.
“Ah’d do anythin’ at this point tah get mah cutie mark.” She whispered to herself.
Suddenly, it felt as if a pair of jagged claws rose from the depths and took hold of her brain. Her eyes widened and her mouth opened to release a scream, but it was too late. The next thing she knew, she was encompassed by total darkness. Blinded, her other senses were overwhelmed by a plethora of obscenities. The smell of blood drilled into her nostrils as if the very air itself was made of it. Countless voices all around her screamed endlessly in pain. These sensations racked her mind so fast and ruthlessly. It was only a moment later that crushing fear took hold of her small pony form like the wet, stinking maw of a great beast. Her vision finally cleared. The nightmare was fully revealed.
Blood. She was surrounded by oceans of blood. The scarlet liquid lapped at her hooves like hungry, rabid rats. Mountains of bones jutted from the red waters, enduring the crashing waves of staining life-fluids. She herself was situated on an island of bones. They were fused and twisted together like some kind of sadistic metal to form a blackened, glossy surface. She looked down at the soulless sockets of what was once a skull. It had been warped into a visage of excruciating agony, as if it was moments before death and then sealed in time. She yelp as dark thunder cracked overhead in the red, cloudy sky. Then, it began to rain. It began to rain blood. It was warm, as if it was fresh from a seeping wound. It soaked her fur until her entire body was the same color as the bow on in her hair.
Apple Bloom’s mind was blank. She was confused and horrified beyond all cognition. She was trembling madly and on the verge of a mental breakdown, when a voice rang in her head. It was like the beat of a low drum, magnified a thousandfold, while retaining an overtone of a psychotic screech from some unnamable abomination. It came from everywhere at once, gurgling from the ocean itself.
“AAAANYYYYYTHIIIIIIING?”
“...Bloom! Apple Bloom!! APPLE BLOOM!!!!”
The filly gasped back to reality proper, shivering on the ground. Her two friend were standing over her. Scootaloo was shaking sense into her with her hoof. Sweetie Belle was in tears. Bloom could barely form words with her quivering lips. Her eyes were still as wide as dinner plates and she could still smell the blood.
“W-w-what... h-hap-p-” Was all she could manage to say.
“You... just started screaming... and thrashing around. You didn’t stop. Not for at least half a minute.” Her distress was clear by the sound of her voice. Scootaloo has always been the tough one of the bunch, but she had no idea what to make of this. The unknown never failed to frighten. “...Your nose is bleeding a lot.”
Apple Bloom wiped her nose with her foreleg. It came back slick. She panicked and swiped her hoof away as if it were on fire.
“What happened, Bloom?” Scoots asked, genuinely worried.
The red-and-yellow filly lay there, breathing heavily. Already the visions she saw were starting to fade away like a dream, but all the emotions, the smells, the sounds, that voice... they were all still there. Stuck like a tree stump. She didn’t want to try and explain what happened to her until she understood it herself.
“Ah... don’t know...”
“Are you gonna be okay?” Sweetie Belle was trembling just as hard as Bloom. Perhaps even more. She was as rattled about the whole thing as one could be.
“Ah’ll be alright. Let’s jus’ go home an’ ferget about it.”
Warily, they made their way back to their respective houses. All the while, though, Apple Bloom was uneasy. As she trotted towards her house for a hot meal and a warm bed, it felt as if a pair of eyes were watching her. Cruel, malevolent eyes that hungered like a wolf. She could sense a presence beating down on her back, as sure as the sun in the sky. But every time she turned around, there was nothing there. The feeling never went away, though, regardless of how often she told herself there was nothing there. There was nothing there. There was nothing there. There was nothing there.
Nothing there...
Nothing there...