There was a strange sight floating above Manhattan, at 1am. However, even in the bustling metropolis, with its inhabitants that never seem to sleep, no one saw the sight. It was a white pony, with wings and a horn, floating majestically in the smoggy sky. Her mane and tail flowed in the wind, shimmering with many different colors. Upon her haunch was what seemed to be a tattoo of a bright sun. And yet, no one saw.
She, on the other hand, was being quite observant. She remained motionless, watching as the city people went about their day. Here a hot dog vendor started setting up shop for the day, there an underpaid night guard returning home from his shift. The pony smiled. But then, she sighed. She had been observing all over the earth, and she had seen many wondrous sights. Wondrous, but not all savory. She had seen poverty, plague, starvation, and war. But she had also seen generosity, kindness, love, and caring.
However, she was not here for kindness. No, she had plenty of that on her own world. No, she was here for the failings of humans, to learn from their mistakes, and prevent her little ponies from making the same ones. She turned her eye to an ambulance, sirens wailing, that was racing it’s way to some emergency or another. This was not a problem. Accidents happen. But she knew that in this world, there was a fair chance it was not an accident.
So she followed, a morbid curiosity dragging her towards the red and white flashing lights. As it turned out, she did not have to follow far. The ambulance stopped outside of a small apartment complex, which was crowded already by what she recognized as police vehicles. The pony swooped down from the clouds, and paused outside the door of a first floor room. Several police officers were outside, preparing a battering ram for the door. She trotted up to them.
“-several calls in the area.” One was saying. “Said they heard screaming.”
After being given the order, the officers smashed down the door. The pony was the first one inside. And what she saw almost made her vomit. On a wall opposite the door words were scrawled in blood.
So, Officers. Do you like your junkies rare, medium, or well done?
Underneath each option was a body, all horribly mutilated. The “rare” body was skinned, completely, and it resembled a raw, human shaped steak. The pony could see muscles, veins, tendons, and even some bones. The skin itself was draped over it’s shoulders, like a sick security blanket.
The next poor souls lay slumped against the wall, legs sticking out. His chest had been torn open, and in the small hollow of his ribcage flickered a still burning fire. His mouth hung open, and his eyes stared towards the ceiling, as if he had been screaming as he died. Which was very likely.
The third body had been burnt beyond recognition, now a black, spindly husk.
The police had come inside now, and some of them did vomit. The more seasoned officers simply stared, jaws agape, before fanning out to search the building. But by then, the pony was long gone.
She lay, sobbing, in her massive bed in the royal chambers. She had seen many things, over many years, and she had come to think that nothing could faze her. She had been very, very wrong. But she had to continue her research. And as much as she would like to hunt down the monster who had committed this terrible crime, she could not interact with the humans.