This story was inspired by a recent trip to IKEA I had, along with a particularly notable entry in the SCP Foundation database. It had some real potential, but I just couldn't get the pacing to work, and after awhile I became increasingly frustrated with it. The "adorable horror" tone was interesting, but I couldn't find a way to keep the readers fully engaged. Worth posting, but if I rewrite it I'm probably going to start from scratch.
It was just past three in the afternoon when somepony knocked on the door of Ponyville Palace. It was a hard knock, loud enough that the sound echoed all the way through the palace’s crystal corridors. Twilight was up in her library, preparing to organize the year’s upcoming winter wrap-up. Her ears lifted when she heard the sound, and her head tilted slightly towards the door, but she did not move from where she sat.
“Spike, could you get the door?” she called, turning back to her work. There was no answer, and a few seconds later, the knock repeated. “Spike!?” Still, there was no answer, and when the knock came a third time, Twilight rose from her desk with a grumble. “Coming, coming.”
Exiting from the library’s door, Twilight found herself on the top floor of the castle’s main entrance hall. She vaulted over the railing, and spread her wings, easily drifting down to the ground floor below. The double doors ahead of her were huge, and wrought entirely of gold, but Twilight had little difficulty pulling them open with her magic. They swung outwards, letting the warm afternoon sunlight shine in, and revealing Ponyville below. “Hello?”
“Hello, ma’am. Are you Twilight Sparkle?” There were two stallions on her front step. Each was an uncommonly large pegasus pony, with a strength and build more like Big Mac’s than the typical light and agile pegasus. They were nearly identical, with the same square muzzle, wide ears, long wings, and mid-length mane. The only difference between them that Twilight could see was their coat color. One was blue, with yellow highlights on his wings, and a nondescript yellow oval for a cutie mark. The other was yellow, with blue highlights on his wings, and an equally nondescript blue oval for a cutie mark.
“Ma’am?” the blue-with-yellow one repeated, snapping Twilight out of her thoughts. Her eyes refocused on his face, instead of the odd duality of him and his partner. His ears were up—attentive, and perhaps a bit confused.
“Oh, uh... yes. Sorry. I’m Twilight Sparkle,” she nodded, taking a hesitant quarter step forward with a foreleg. “Can I help you?”
“We have a delivery.” The blue-with-yellow one gestured behind him with a forehoof, and Twilight noticed the cart at the base of the palace steps. It was a heavy sky-wagon, with a harness for two pegasi—presumably the two in front of her. Inside it was a single enormous crate nearly six feet on a side, braced into the wagon by a series of metal struts.
“Oh, uh... wow. Okay.” Twilight blinked, glancing between the huge object and the two delivery ponies. “What is it?”
“I just deliver the boxes, ma’am, but it should all be on the shipping invoice,” the blue one said. “Would you like it if we brought it inside for you?”
“Yes, please,” Twilight said, pulling the palace double-doors open the rest of the way to make room. The two delivery ponies returned to their skywagon, and with considerable effort, managed to hoist the crate onto their backs. One careful step at a time, they maneuvered it up through the entranceway and down onto the palace floor. It settled with a loud thump, the yellow one hissing in pain as it landed on the edge of his hoof.
“Are you okay?” Twilight asked, leaning around the crate to look at he winced.
“Oh, fine. Happens all the time,” he assured, flexing his ankle once before gently placing it on the ground. His voice was identical to the other pony, with the same pitch, intonations, and tone. Twilight leaned back, and narrowed her eyes slightly.
“Are you two—”
“Sign here, please,” the blue one said, presenting a clipboard to Twilight. She froze, momentarily caught off guard, but her eyes soon refocused on the other pony near her. She took the clipboard out of his teeth, and reviewed the form. Its text was tiny and dense, and it took Twilight some time to scan through it all.
“Isn’t this kind of excessive for an acknowledgement of receipt?” she asked as she neared the end of the form, confident she wasn’t agreeing to anything except that the package had come intact. The delivery pony shrugged, and after a few more moments of hesitation, Twilight signed the form. He took the clipboard back from her, tucking it under a leg.
“Alright,” he said, as his partner piled up a number of minor items beside the package. “There’s your shipping invoice, the associated documentation, and your complimentary crowbar for getting the box open. And I’m supposed to give this to you directly.” He gestured, as his partner quickly stepped up, adding one last item to the pile—a sealed envelope with Twilight’s name written on the front in cursive script. “And, that’s everything. Any questions?”
“Um... I guess not,” Twilight said. “Did you two just move to Ponyville or something?”
“We do deliveries all around,” the blue one said. “Have a nice day, ma’am.” He nodded, and then turned and left, his partner following suit. Twilight moved to the door, but didn’t shut it right away. Instead, she watched as they hitched themselves back up to their cart, spread their wings, and flew off into the distance.
“Weird...” she muttered, shutting the palace doors and turning back to the box. “Well, let’s see what’s inside I guess.”
Twilight’s horn glowed as she picked up the sealed envelope. A tight magical beam served as well as a letter opener, nearly cutting the top of the paper away. From within, Twilight drew a single folded sheet of paper, opening it to find more cursive writing inside.
“Your Royal Highness,” it began, eliciting a frown from Twilight as she read on.
“Let me begin by congratulating you on your recent coronation. While I regretfully could not attend the ceremony in person, I have followed your career with great interest. Your work in the field of Equine Studies has been tremendous, and I owe much of the recent progress I have made to your papers.
My name is Ingvar, and I am an entrepreneur from Wellhollow. As you may already be aware, my company will soon be opening one of our Kamprad Pony Emporium locations in Ponyville. We are very excited to finally be able to offer service to the greater Ponyville area, and look forward to offering you the same level of service we provide in our flagship Bywall and Bluehedge locations.
Given your definitive work in the field, as well as your deep involvement in the Ponyville community, I thought it only fitting to give you one of our top-of-the-line models as an opening gift. While it’s not quite up to the standard you’ve set in your own work, I hope you’ll agree it represents a vast leap forward in the commercial space. I hope that you take it as representative of the products and services my company hopes to provide to Ponyville, as well as the good we can do for your community.
I will be present for the Ponyville locations grand opening next month, and should you be able to find the time out of your busy schedule, would love to meet in person. Until then, please enjoy. Jargön is a particular favorite of mine—a fondness I hope you too may share.
Best wishes,
I.K.”
Twilight’s frown tightened, and she read the letter again. Her eyes froze over several passages, staring at them intently and studying every word. It was nearly a full minute before she lifted her head, and turned back to the palace. “Spike?” she called, and when there was no answer, she took a deeper breath: “SPIKE!”
A shout answered her, and moments later, a bleary-eyed Spike staggered out of his room and into the main hall. “Twilight? What is it? Is everything okay?” he asked from the high balcony. “Woah. What’s with the box?”
“Spike, Celestia hasn’t published any of my letters, has she?” Twilight asked, turning her head up to the high balcony.
“I don’t think so. I mean, we’d have heard about that, right?” he replied, rubbing at his eyes with the back of a claw.
“And have you ever heard of a town called Wellhollow, Bywall, or Bluehedge?” she asked, glancing back down at the letter, then to the box.
“No,” he shook his head. “I could go check a map though if you want.”
“Maybe later.” Twilight put the letter down, and turned to pick up the bundle of documentation. It came in some sort of wrapper—a transparent and thin but shockingly strong material that Twilight had never seen before. Tugging at it with her magic did nothing, and biting it did less. Her horn glowed, and she tried to slice it open with with her magic like she had the envelope, but the magical beam bounced off the packaging, and Twilight yelped as she ducked to avoid her own ray.
“Watch it!” Spike called, hurrying down the stairs. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine, but this... whatever it is,” she gestured at the transparent container, “doesn’t seem to want to come open.”
“Here, let me try,” Spike said, taking it from her. He looked it over carefully, ignoring the heat from the melted blob down one side. “I think there’s a seam down the middle here. You just can’t see it because it’s clear.” Slowly, he worked a claw up the side of the container, and a layer of the clear material neatly parted from the rest. “There!” Spike said, pulling the papers from within and brushing the bits of melted plastic away.
“Oh, heh. Good thinking, Spike,” Twilight said, smiling at him as she took the bundle. Turning to face it, she saw the front cover—an oval with “Kamprad Pony Emporium” written inside in elegant writing. Below that, in much blockier text, was proclaimed: “JARGÖN: Assembly and Operation Instructions.”
“So, what’s with the box?” Spike asked, as Twilight started to flip through the bundle.
“I don’t know,” Twilight admitted. Her horn glowed as she flipped the pages quickly, scanning over the images before her. It was full of drawings of ponies, with their parts separated like an anatomical diagram. Dotted lines connected hooves to ankles, and heads to necks, while rows of littler pictures down the sides had drawings of bones and individual joints. “It’s really weird, actually. I think it’s supposed to be a gift? But it’s from somepony I’ve never heard of, and the note that came with it was... strange.”
“Well... want me to open it?” Spike asked, picking the crowbar up off the ground and tapping the side of the box.
“I should read the instructions first,” Twilight said, still flipping through the bundle.
“Twilight, that thing’s gotta be a hundred pages long,” Spike said, tapping the side of the box again. “Come on. Let’s at least take a look?”
“Well...” Twilight said, frowning at the incomprehensible diagrams. “Alright. Go ahead.”
“Right!” Spike whirled the crowbar in his hands, bringing the straight end up in a wide arc and slamming it into the side of the crate. His aim was good, and it dug into the wood right where one side of the box met the rest. A little jet of flame rolled out of his nostrils as he heaved, and the sound of splintering wood echoed off the hard crystal walls. Finally, with a loud snap, the side of the crate came free. It swung for a moment on a hoof’s worth of stubborn nails, before finally sliding off and to the side. A wave of packing material spilled out on top of it—a profusion of little “pillows” full of air, made from the same transparent material the papers had come in.
Beyond the packing material, exactly in the middle of the crate, there stood a pony. She was a unicorn, with a light tan coat and a darker mane, wearing a choker made from a light blue fabric. She was a few inches shorter than Twilight—about the same height Twilight had been as a unicorn—and had about the same build. Her face was softer than Twilight’s though, with a smaller muzzle and larger ears, which combined to make her look youthful and unthreatening. Her cutie mark was visible, but the imagery—a shield, heart, and ornate cup—did not immediately call anything to mind. She stood at attention, facing towards the front of the box, unblinkingly staring directly at the wooden barrier in front of her.
Then, she yawned, lifting a hoof to cover her mouth.
“Woah!” Spike shouted, his alarmed tone mirrored in Twilight’s wide eyes. They both took a step back as the pony in the box stretched, shaking her body vigorously to dislodge the remaining packing materials. “Twilight, there’s a pony in the box!”
“I can see that, Spike!” Twilight hissed, taking another step away as the pony in the box turned to face them. “Who are you?” Twilight demanded. “What are you doing in that crate?”
“Oh, hello!” the mare answered cheerfully, an excited little smile appearing on her face as she spotted Twilight. She lifted a leg to step out of the box, but paused when she glanced down and saw the nail-studded crate side beneath her. “Just one second...” Carefully, she reached a leg forward, stepping over the nails and out onto the box cover, moving again out onto the floor. “There! Sorry about that.” She turned back to Twilight. “To answer your question, I don’t have a name yet. But you can call me Jargön if you like! Are you Twilight Sparkle?”
“What do you mean, you don’t have a name? What were you doing in a crate!?” Twilight demanded, pointing sharply at the box.
Jargön followed her pointing hoof with her eyes, tilted her head, and shrugged. “Well, um... I mean that I haven’t been named yet. And, I was getting delivered, I assume. That’s what boxes are for, right?”
“Ponies do not come in boxes!” Twilight snapped.
“Well, this pony came in a box,” Jargön answered. Her enthusiastic smile had faded, but she still seemed upbeat, looking all around the palace entrance hall. “I’m sorry, I know I asked this earlier, but are you Twilight Sparkle? I’m a gift for her and I need to make sure I got delivered correctly.”
“I...” Twilight paused, and took a slow breath. “Yes, I’m Twilight Sparkle.”
“Oh, super!” Jargön said, taking a quick step forward and extending her hoof to Twilight. “Then, I’m your new pony! It’s a pleasure to meet you, Twilight. I hope that’s not too informal of me. For a princess I mean.”
“No, I prefer Twilight, it’s...” Twilight shook her head, and ignored Jargön’s proffered hoof. “Jargön. Whoever you are. Where did you come from?”
“From... the box?” Jargön asked, hesitantly lowering her hoof.
“No, I mean before that,” Twilight insisted. “Where are you from?”
“Oh!” Jargön nodded quickly. “The Kamprad Pony Emporium home warehouse in Bywall.”
“Bywall?” Twilight asked, and Jargön quickly nodded. “I’ve never heard of Bywall. Where is it?”
“Okay.” Jargön lifted a hoof, and made a low, sweeping gesture. “You know Highbrush? Start there, and then take the main coastal road south for about four hours. You can’t miss it. It’s actually a pretty big city these days!”
“I’ve never heard of Highbrush,” Twilight replied, shaking her head.
“Oh. Uh...” Jargön hesitated. “It’s the capital of Equestria?”
“I assure you it’s not,” Twilight replied, firmly. “In fact I’m pretty sure it’s not even a real town.”
“Um...” Jargön hesitated for several long seconds, a small frown appearing on her face. “I’m sorry, Twilight. I’m not saying you’re wrong, but I don’t know what else to tell you. That’s where I’m from.”
Twilight let out an angry snort, and gave a sharp flick of her tail: “And, what, they don’t give ponies names in Bywall? If this is some sort of prank, it’s not funny.”
“Twilight, I don’t know what I did to upset you, but I’m sorry,” Jargön said quietly, her voice wavering slightly as she held a hoof to her chest. “I mean, everything you need to know should be right there in my associated documentation. And, it’s not like I don’t have a name at all! My model name is Jargön, and you can keep calling me that if you like. It’s just, most owners rename their ponies. You know, so it’s personal.”
“You can’t own a pony,” Twilight insisted. Jargön gave her a blank stare, and after a few long seconds, Twilight let out a long breath. “Jargön, do you have anypony we can get in touch with? Family, friends?”
“Oh, well. I come with a five year service contract, so you can take me into any Kamprad Pony Emporium location for free maintance. Does that help?” she asked, lifting her tail and ears slightly as a note of hope entered her tone.
“That’s not what I mean, Jargön,” Twilight insisted. “I mean ponies who know you. Where are your parents?”
“Oh, I don’t have any parents,” Jargön answered. “I was made in a factory. I’ve never met anypony except for the technicians who did my quality control. Well, and you when you opened the box.” She paused. “I guess the ponies who assembled me are sort of like my parents. I don’t know their names though. Would you like me to go try to look them up?”
Twilight took in a long breath, and let it out again. “No,” she said, before turning to Spike. “Spike, take a letter to Celestia. Tell her there’s a mare here who arrived in a box and claims to be my property, and that I suspect she’s under some form of beguilement or mind control. Send her a copy of the letter that came with the box and ask her if she could have her guards look into the matter. Oh, and to be on the lookout for a pair of blue and yellow pegasus twins posing as delivery ponies.”
“You got it, Twilight!” Spike said, snapping a quick salute. He started to run towards the study, but paused as he came up alongside Jargön. “And, don’t you worry. You’re in good hooves now! Twilight will get this all sorted out.”
“Oh, uh... that’s good,” Jargön said, her jaw set askance as she scratched behind her head with one hoof. She watched as Spike ran off, calling after him, “It was nice to meet you!”
Once Spike was off, Twilight started in the same direction at a more measured pace, gesturing up the stairs towards the library. “Come with me. Mind control isn’t really my specialty, but I’m sure we have a counterspell somewhere he that can get you sorted out.”
“Um...” Jargön paused, and then hurried up the stairs after Twilight to walk alongside her. “I’m flattered by your concern, really, but I think there’s been some sort of misunderstanding. I’m not a prisoner. I’m your new pony? I clean, cook, organize, manage your schedule, dance, sing, provide intelligent conversation. You know, all that?”
“Jargön, even if I didn’t know that was the magic talking, slavery is illegal in Equestria,” Twilight said firmly, “to say nothing of being horrifyingly evil. You’re not some thing that went together in a factory and comes out of a box. You’re a pony who some despicable monster has brainwashed into thinking she’s a servant.”
There was a noticeable pause before Jargön answered, the two making it most of the way up the stairs. Even then she only managed an “Um...” and followed Twilight into the library. All around them, shelves stretched up for stories and stories, ending in a massive observatory dome overhead. “Well... I’m not really sure what to say to a lot of that. It’s clear you really care about doing the right thing, and that’s nice. I can really see why you’re a princess.”
She gently tapped a hoof on the ground, and bit her lip. “But—and again, I’m not saying your wrong, this is just what I know—I did get put together in a factory. Or, well, the assembly area beside the factory. Normally, I would be shipped in parts and you’d put me together yourself, but since I was a special delivery they assembled me on the factory floor.” She cleared her throat. “It’s actually quite simple for unicorns. Earth ponies and pegasi have it a little harder, but it’s still pretty easy as long as they have an allen wrench.”
“I’m sure you believe that,” Twilight said, pointing at a chair on the edge of the library, “but I really need you to sit down and let me try to fix this, please.”
“Well... you’re the boss,” Jargon said, walking to where Twilight indicated and sitting down. Her pose was uncomfortable however, and she fidgeted in place until she finally said, “But can I ask why you don’t believe me?”
“Because what you’re saying is ridiculous,” Twilight answered, firmly. “I know, if you’re under an enchantment, it’s probably messing with your judgement to make this all seem perfectly reasonable. But if you can, try to stop and think about it. Do ponies go together with an allen wrench?”
Jargön paused, looked at the ground, and swished her tail back and forth. Her ears folded back, and then she pushed them forward again, lifting her eyes to glance at Twilight. After a moment of silence, she lifted a leg, and lowered her head to look directly at her shoulder. Her horn glowed a pale blue, and from somewhere inside Jargön’s body, Twilight could hear a loud clicking sound, and the squeak of metal.
With a quiet click, Jargön’s foreleg separated from her body. Twilight leapt backwards two steps, staring with wide-eyes at the missing joint. She could see exposed bone, muscle, ligaments and more, but there was no blood. It was a clean break, like a medical cross-section of a pony’s shoulder joint. And yet, the flesh pulsed with life, the muscles sliding over each other as Jargon moved her body, and twitching when her heart beat.
Gently, Jargön placed her leg on the table beside her. “Well, this pony does.”