Intro, To Begin
Chic... chuk… chic… chuk…
Rhythmic beating resonating through layers of rusted metal.
Toot… shee… toot… shee...
Steam spewing forth from cracks in the walls. The sound of it expelling itself somewhere outside of the metal beast.
Shizzzzzzzllleeee…
Green sparks dancing to and fro, granting small glimpses of a chained creature.
-Sniff-
The sound of the creature’s sorrow
Chic… chuk…
“Why…?”
Toot… shee…
“I didn’t want to come here…”
Shiiiizzzzzllleeee…
“My life was fine the way it was.”
Chic… shee… chic… shooooooooo…
Rubber wheels gripping the dirt, forcing the great metal contraption to a halt. Steam continues to hiss.
Toot… shee… toot…
“Please don’t stop.”
Shizllllleee…
The green spark dies, drowning the creature in darkness.
-Sniff- … -sniff- ...
The creature's sorrow deepens.
“Please don’t get out.”
Clip clop clip clop
Hoofsteps; two sets. Their beats echo within the great machine.
“Please don’t…”
Shruuuummmm!!!
Cogs whirl in place.
Shhhhhhhhhh…
An unseen gramophone plays static.
Whump
The device’s needle dropping on vinyl. It releases a tune... a horribly wretched little tune. One that was once whimsical but has now warped itself into a hellish thing to the creature’s ears. It acts as a signal; a harbinger of grim things to come.
And what is to come...?
“Well, looky what we got here, brother of mine, it’s the same in every town~!”
“… Singing...”
The creature sighs; its’ captives continuing their horrible anthem, unaware and uncaring of their captive’s protests.
“Well you’ve got opportunity…”
The song fades, mentally blocked off by the creature and physically blocked off by the metal walls. The creature counts.
“3… 2... 1…”
The machine stutters.
Shruuuuuummmm!!!
Cogs whirl.
Toot Shee Toot Shee…
The steam builds up.
Whrrrriiiillll!!!
The sound of a vacuum turning on and performing its duty.
Clink clonk
The sound of horseshoes banging the surface of the metal beast, harrowing the return of one of its masters. The noise of the machine mercifully blocks off one of their voices, but not the others'.
“Feel free to take a sneak peeeeeek~”
Hisssss...
The sound of a magic charm slowing charging.
Ding, ding, ding, BUZZ, ding…
Apples being sorted.
-Sniff-
The creature whimpers.
…
Silence falls. Then… the creature chuckles weakly, and an even weaker smile etches across its face.
It begins to speak.
“I guess its show tim-"
It never gets to finish.
SSSSSSHHHHHHHIIIIIIIIZZZZZLLLLLLLLLEEEEEEE
The green spark returns and strikes the creature. It screams bloody murder…
“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!”
… And bellows out a mighty orange flame, illuminating its features once more in a crisscrossing spectrum of orange and green lighting.
'It' is a baby dragon, and a sickly one at that. Its colors are indistinguishable in the neon illumination. The hide of scales that usually adorn such a creatures' body lies in ruins along this one's flesh. Each scale ranges from scruffy to barely hanging on; the former waiting for the slightest body movement to dislodge it. The dragon’s pain intensifies…
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!”
… And a new layer of scales falls to the floor, joining its brothers and sisters in a hefty pile of waste and vomit.
Whhhiiirrrrllll!!!
The sound of a second vacuum. It sucks up the flames until all that remains is the blackened wall; charred pitch black and only slightly warped from the constant abuse. Soon, only the green lightning remains to illuminate the dark, metal, room. It dances along the creature’s body, weaving its way through the tattered remains of its bat-like wings; a feature which singles it into the female class of dragons, a class that grows and matures faster than their male counterparts. This source of light soon vanishes as well; the creature's cries of pain soon returning to cries of sorrow.
“Ah… ah… a-h…" -Sniff- … -sob- ... "H-hic… hi-UMBH!!!”
The creature's illness soon covers the fresh layer of fallen scales.
Bubblebubblebubblebubble…
Liquid runs quickly through the series of tubes which adorns the contraption’s inner ceiling. Soon, the voices of ponies can be heard through the machine’s walls.
“Delicious!”
The voices of ponies wetting their whistles.
“Served so quickly!”
Ponies enjoying the wonderful cider.
“And it’s so warm and toasty!”
Ponies unknowingly killing the creature.
“Our pleasure, fillies and gentlecolts! And remember; oh you’ve got opportunity in this here community~!”
Evil ponies, one and all.
-Sniff-
Ponies whom the dragon could not and would not hate.
“J-just hang in there, Nathan.”
Because, once upon a time, the dragon’s life was improved by their very existence.
“J… j-just stay strong.”
Back when the creature was not a dragon, but a human.
“Stay… strong.”
When she considered herself a brony.
“S… s-stay…”
Back when she was a he.
CREEEEEEEEAAAKKK…
A hatch opens, illuminating the room in natural sunlight for but a few scant seconds; long enough for a bucket to be telepathically levitated inside with a sickly green aura.
ClANKCLANKCLANK!!!
It empties its contents of rusty old screws, bolts, and broken glass over the dragon’s head. Most of it falls into the pile of waste and green scales below her while some of the glass gets stuck in the miserable and filthy tuff of red hair adorning her head. Long ago did the dragon learn to close her eyes when that hatch opened; not only to shield her eyes from the painful sunlight but to also avoid getting strands of glass in them. A yellow stallion’s muzzle sticks out briefly from the hatch.
“Feeding time, you damn talker.”
SLAM!
With that the unicorn was gone.
“… Strong." -Sniff- "Oh God, please help me.”
SSSSSSNNNNNNNNAAAAAAAPPPPPPPP
The scene freezes. The dragon’s tears halt in midair.
Tick… tock… tick… tock...
An unknown clock echoes throughout the dragon’s cell, becoming the only sound present. Not even breathing could be heard from the worn-out creature.
And then... the dragon’s tears return to her eyes, as if they were never shed to begin with.
The unicorn, Flam, returns and uses his powers to bring back the bucket which in turn re-absorbs its’ original contents. Soon, all the bolts and glass are gone and the unicorn leaves once more through the hatch.
Time is moving backwards.
Tick tock tick tock
And the pace at which it flows is in direct response to the clock’s ticking.
Slowly but surely the room begins to change.
The mess of filth, scales, and lost 'food' begins to clean itself and the blackened walls turn back to their original steely smoothness.
The wall next to the dragon, with a large collection of spiked tail made scratches in it, begins to mend itself. Each scratch removed represents one day being returned to the sickly dragon.
The most dramatic change, however, comes from the dragon herself.
One by one scales begin to reattach themselves to the skin, filling in the once blank spots that exposed her flesh. Her hair shortens itself, going from belly length to just a bit over the shoulders. Its general appearance seems to improve as well; removing bits of glass that the creature’s bonded arms could not reach. Finally, the most drastic of changes comes in the form of the dragon’s eyes and posture. Before a casual viewer's watchful gaze the dragon has gone from the absolutely devastated creature seen earlier to one whose eyes burn with rage and hope.
Tick… tock… tick…
The clock slows down as does the scene. The room has now returned to its former glory, with little to no indication of the horrors it would later see. In the corner lies the still chained and restrained dragon, fuming with ire and anger and holding no love for two unlucky unicorns.
The wall to her left bares three small scratches.
Tick… tock… tick…
Two scratches.
Tick… tock…
One scratch.
Tick…
The wall is now bare, and the dragon is gone.
***^***
Ever since they were little colts, the Flim Flam brothers had a dream; a dream to make a wondrous machine to set their lives on the fast track to success. The machine, known as the Super Speedy Cider Squeezy 6000, was missing just one component to make it all complete. Just one elusive item that no sane pony or pony with values would ever consider using:
Fresh dragon's breath.
Guess what I am.
I was taken from my home, my family, and my wings were slashed. I am no longer a person, I am simply a cog; a cog in the Super Speedy Cider Squeezy 6000.
This is the beginning of my wonderful tale
A Cog in the Machine
A fictional story by ManlyDerp
I do not own Hasbro’s MLP, FiM