//------------------------------// // Chapter one: the first outing (or black mailing pinkie) // Story: No glitter, just rarity the vampire! // by MidnightFMare //------------------------------// CAROUSEL BOUTIQUE “Rarity, you’ve been cooped up in boutique since ‘the incident’ and I know a way to cure you” I call into the dark shop The door opens a crack, the pale pony with a pair of sharp, deep sapphire eyes looks out, her mane still immaculately kept “R-really? This isn’t one of your cruel and odd tests is it?” Squatting down to her level and stick out a pinkie (I being in my anthropomorphic form) “’Cross my heart (Though I lack one) hope to fly (though I have wings) stick a cupcake in my eye’ I am chaotic neutral, like valiant, though it was his fault you’re in this predicament in the first place, I am not lying” To this she takes my pinkie in her hoof and beckoned me in, dashing away from the light I let in My eyes adjust to night vision and I see the quivering, frail pony seamstress looking at my glowing eyes in animalistic fear. Lowering myself once more, I approach her; never breaking eye contact. I treat her like I would a feral cat, slowly extending my hand, I brush her muzzle, she flinches but does not run. Outstretching my other hand, I pull her into a hug, which she returns gently, then tightening as her tears start. I just hold her, letting her weep on my shoulder, her mascara and eyeliner running down my shoulder. I don’t know how long we sit there When her sobs subsided “I need to see how far along the conversion is, do you mind?” with a slow nod, and a tear, she complies Checking her pulse, heartbeat, eyes, and sensitivity to light, the examination proves that that she is in the second stage of 5. Her worried expression says she doesn’t understand. I smile, she returns it but suddenly finds herself wrapped in a black blanket, through the hole she made with her horn she sees the door to the outside open I unroll her into the shade of her shop and she proceeds to grumble and check her mane “the ceremony to cure you has to happen during the day, ease yourself out, I can wait” Nodding, she sticks a hoof out and then a leg, which results in a soft “PSH…” sound and rarity squeaking, then another hoof, which does not react, then her whole body, which surprises me as she stands tall… then slumps For the next two minutes we walk until she collapses, her breathing shallow and labored. I help her into a dark alley and put my hand near her mouth, she looks up with one squinted eye and raises an eyebrow “You need to restore your strength, bite my hand” I say “NO! Won’t you turn as well?” she replies, looking at me with dull, lifeless eyes “No, I am immune to the vampire necrogen, besides, having 5 faux hearts, I can spare a lot” she looks at the bite marks already there “Oh, right, being so old, I carry a lot of psychic energy, especially love so chrysalis feeds off it and gives it to rogue changelings who aren’t convinced that love can be given freely, and-“ I stop, feeling a light pinch on my hand. Looking down, I see rarity’s closed mouth, her nostrils flaring as she breathes, and her fangs piercing my skin, but I hardly feel it, like donating blood (well… then again, it is technically “donating”. Huh, something to think about) the tips of her fangs making holes at the bottom of chrysalis’ fang marks. But as her fangs absorb the blood, her eyes shoot open, jerks out her fangs and looks at me with fear “I… saw a glimpse of… your life, you’re so… sad and lonely… You’re older than the princesses… you… you’ve seen so much, and your eyes… are empty of life; dull, old eyes who have wept for every single death you couldn’t stop, every friend, enemy, ally, companion, and innocent. That have seen what never should be seen” she whispers “What in celestia’s name are you? How can you be so old?” “To answer your question, I am an immortal, para-pan-dimensional ‘cat’ that, by all the laws of the universe, should not exist. I am looking for my final resting place, to find the reason why I can’t die. But I will help anyone who needs it, if my past disturbs you, I’ll go to a blood bank and get some blood for you” I reply As I turn to go, rarity extends a hoof and grabs my jacket “I find that you love being able to help, to save as many live as you can, to help those in need to wipe away their tears, bewilder them with your otherworldliness, but nopony sees the sadness in your heart, the faint lines of ancient and fresh tears. The searing scars on your spirit, to feel the pain every action causes. You give, but never receive, you are a brave, ancient soul. One that hears the individual death wails of each one you couldn’t save. I do not find your past repulsive, but inspiring, by the colors and the patterns. Please, give me your memories, you are a living story, please?” she replies, holding my hand in her hooves “F-fine, sure, I have blood to spare” I reply nervously, her honesty shocking me; but that shock is replaced by a subtle warmth, warming my core, as she gently bites my hand, savoring my memories, her eyes lullingly close, her hair tickling my skin. All of this induces sleep I don’t care if anypony sees us like this… I just want to sleep… “HI GUYS!!!!!” …damn iiiiittt Standing at the entrance of the alley is pinkie pie, in all her pinkie goodness. Her pupils shrink, scratches her nose, her back left hoof goes limp, and her tail starts spinning clock-wise “(GASP) rarity, are you a vampire?” she asks as I proceed to face palm. “What if she is?” I cup her ear in my other hand and whisper into her ear “Pinkie, don’t tell anypony or I’ll tell them (whisper whisper whisper whisper)” her hair deflates and turns greyish “H-h-h-how?” she whispers, quivering “I was on the ceiling, making a documentary about you; which is being played tonight, please come to it!” I hand her a flier She sulks away until something catches her eye and hops away