33
He’d been watching the whole process with riveted attention. The deep blue pony hadn’t stood a chance. Grogar’s handiwork had left its mark, blood staining his torso like a bright red sweater. His coat had turned to a dead pale green colour and his irises had shrunk as the life drained from them. Even when he got up and stood before the necromancer, the eyes remained dead.
Rourke hadn’t said anything throughout the process of transforming his latest victim. He hadn’t made sound. He doubted Grogar even knew he was standing leaned up against the doorpost. He didn’t want to take another step into the ram’s workshop, for fear of slipping on some of the colourful viscera carpeting the ground.
Lieutenant Rourke had kidnapped almost a baker’s dozen ponies and brought them to Grogar. Most of them were travelling traders and the like. The ram had been working through the night with excitement, the result a dozen walking corpses and their guts strewn all over the workshop.
The human turned up his nose, but remembered this was all necessary. Messy, but necessary. He needed the Elements of Harmony, and he needed pony society out of the way before he could get them. He needed Grogar for that, and Grogar needed an army.
“Fetch me that blade, m’dear.” Grogar growled excitedly, pointing a hoof toward one of his tool-racks.
The three legged zombie pony – who Rourke often referred to as ‘Tripod’ – had served as assistant as long as Grogar had been cutting up and re-animating his victims. She hobbled towards the tool-rack and started rummaging through the various rusty appliances.
Watching her, the ram sighed. “No, not the mallet. The blade. The sharp pointy thing… yes! That one!”
He sighed again as Tripod hobbled back to his side with the blade sticking out of the side of her head. The mare seemed equally confused about how that had happened exactly. Regardless, Grogar grabbed the handle with his magic and yanked the knife from her head.
Carefully he moved the knife to his newest zombie’s neck and gently started cutting into the surface flesh. His eyes were narrowed and the tip of his tongue was visible as he concentrated on flexing the knife as he cut.
Confused, Rourke straightened up. Cutting into a perfectly good minion seemed pointless.
“Ahem!” he coughed loudly.
Grogar’s eyes suddenly widened with surprise. With a sharp flick the blade dug deeper into the pony’s neck and sliced clean through muscle and bone before hissing through the air and across the workshop. Tripod hit the deck, cowering under her single fore-hoof so her head wouldn’t be taken off before the knife thudded into a wall.
The newest addition to Grogar’s undead minions wasn’t so lucky. With a crunch and a flop his head tumbled to one side and hit the ground at his hooves.
Rourke pulled an innocent face as Grogar rounded on him – livid.
Taking in a deep breath, holding it before exhaling, Grogar managed to quickly calm himself. Lifting the severed zombie pony’s head in his magic he looked into the stump on the still-standing body. “What is it, lieutenant?”
“I was just taking a break.” Rourke admitted, rooted to the spot. He definitely wasn’t going to enter while Grogar was working with knives. “What are you up to?”
Grogar considered the severed head with a trained eye then looked into the gaping mouth like a jeweller appraising a diamond. “Just some experiments.” He absently snatched up an emerald from his worktop and jammed it into the zombie pony’s bloody stump. “I’m installing my latest batch of minions with enchanted gems. Hoping to immunise them from the Royal Canterlot Voice, just in case your plan fails.”
Rourke chewed his tongue, holding back a rebuke. Keeping calm he simply said, “I’ll keep my end of the deal.”
“Yes-yes, I’m sure.” Grogar said with a noncommittal tone. He seemed more focused on jamming that gem into his latest minion.
Satisfied it was in place he turned the head over and jammed it with a ‘crunch’ back on the body.
Somehow, without even grafting muscle and tendon the zombie was able to move his head to look around. Though only in a limited capacity, since Grogar had jammed the head onto his shoulders so hard the re-animated pony didn’t seem to have a neck anymore. Regardless, he flexed his legs experimentally then snapped to attention like a four-legged decay scented soldier.
Looking quite satisfied with his work, Grogar suddenly narrowed his eyes. “Did you say you were on a break?”
“You ever handle human weapons before? What I’m doing is not exactly something you want to rush.”
Grogar seemed to accept that answer and dismissed Tripod and ‘Neckless.’ Watching them both hobble away to join the other zombie ponies next door, Rourke noticed the mare seemed to be rubbing up against Neckless. In response the re-capitated zombie blushed – somehow.
Zombie love, Rourke rolled his eyes. And here I thought this couldn’t get more gross.
“So have you figured out a delivery method yet?” Grogar asked. “Getting close to the princess won’t be easy.”
“I was hoping you’d be able to help me with that one.” Rourke admitted. “A teleportation spell maybe?”
Grogar hummed with a stroke of his goatee. “There are wards all over the palace. But I might have something strong enough to punch through. How do you feel about black holes?”
“Haven’t thought about them much.” Rourke deadpanned.
With a nod, Grogar trotted past Rourke, his hooves squishing casually across the gore as he moved. “Follow me. I’ll see what I have.”
As the ram passed, the human heaved, feeling a tickle at first, then sneezed violently. Grogar seemed to ignore him as the human was doubled over, hands covering his screwed up expression. Sniffing sharply, Rourke only succeeded in inhaling something else, causing another sneeze.
This time Grogar cocked an eyebrow at the human.
Rourke quickly shook his head, rubbing his nose hoping to relieve it of the airborne fur choking his sinuses. “Allergies,” he sniffed. “Animal hair.”
Grogar glared, clearly not taking kindly to being called an ‘animal’ before moving on to his library. “I’ll see what I have for that as well…”
Bungee snorted, waking with a start. He had one hell of a weird dream. He’d been stuck in a land of colourful pony creatures that could talk, and was being chased through a forest by large bipedal dogs.
But it was all over now. He was curled up in his basket, safe and sou-…
“Oh, you’re awake!” a soft voice cheered.
Bungee’s ears twitched with every clip clop of her hooves. Looking up he saw her. A butter coloured Pegasus, smiling softly as she spoke, calling out to Bungee.
Oh…
It all came flooding back in an instant. The night alicorn. The chase through the woods. The talking ponies, ogre-dogs and walking corpses. Not dreams. Memories. In fact, Bungee didn’t even dream last night. It had just been a restful, blank sleep.
He remembered Princess Luna, Princess Celestia, Twilight Sparkle, the foals in the forest and finally Fluttershy. The Pegasus with the long pink mane and tail. Luna had left him at her house for the night, with one simple order.
“Be good,” she had told him.
He’d done exactly that. He listened to everything Fluttershy wanted. He ate his dinner. He ran around the yard a bit for some exercise. And then he curled up for sleep. No trouble. No fuss. He had no intention in letting Luna down.
“Did you sleep well, Bungee?” Fluttershy asked sweetly.
Bungee’s eyes smiled and his tail batted the side of the basket. There was something about the Pegasus that seemed to likeable. She was gentle, kind and caring. And that was just her voice. Though Bungee preferred Luna’s clear authorative commands, Fluttershy’s presence was definitely tolerable.
Leaning closer to the dog, Fluttershy gave a smile, scratching him behind the ears. “Why don’t you go play outside with the others while I get breakfast ready?”
Play, Bungee understood that word perfectly. But others? The meaning of that was quite vague. At least it was until he found himself outside in the cottage back-yard.
Last night the picket fence area had been empty. The chicken run was quiet, the tree was still, the grass was clear. In the morning sun Fluttershy’s home was a concerto of activity.
Birds chirped and fluttered between the trees and the bird-houses. Chickens clucked and pecked at the sandy base of their run. There were bunnies bounding about the place, butterflies and other insects soaring about. A turtle made a slow crawl across the yard, blocking Bungee’s path as he curiously sniffed the air.
It was quite an overwhelming sight as he found his attention drawn all over the place. His head twitched from side to side, gaze darting between rabbits and low-flying birds. He even jolted into a pounce-ready stance as a squirrel sprinted right under his nose.
A little startled, the dog backed away until his rear smacked into a wooden post. The fence surrounding the yard shook and rattled, as a voice rang out.
“Would you please be careful!?” the voice said.
Male, it didn’t sound in Bungee’s senses like a normal voice would. It had a little bit of a reverb to it. And it didn’t enter his ears. It was like the words were being injected directly into his brain.
Lifting his head, Bungee looked around to see where the voice came from, but he didn’t see anypony. Cocking his head confusedly, his ears flexed as the voice was heard again.
“Up here, dummy,” the voice sneered in a more noticeably snobby tone. It was quite nasally, like that of a spoilt brat.
Looking up, Bungee’s eyes were drawn to the top of the post he’d bumped into. Perched atop was a cat. Bungee resisted the urge to bark. Not only because of his training. But because he was afraid his bark might scare the perm out of this cat.
This cat was one of a breed Bungee had only rarely laid eyes on before. Neatly permed, sparkling white fur. A long luscious tail, an expensive collar and a big purple bow tied into the quiff of fur atop his head. He had lazy looking eyes to go with his lazy posture as his pudgy body lay curled atop the thick wooden post.
“That’s right,” the cat hissed into Bungee’s brain, his voice projected without so much of a wiggle of his mouth. “You almost knocked me down. So what do we say?”
Bungee stared, understanding the words perfectly, but perfectly puzzled about how he should react. Or what he should even do.
The cat’s chest heaved as he rolled his eyes and sighed. “Come on, muttley. It’s not very hard. Two little words. I’m…” he paused, letting the first word sink in, “sorry. And now you. Go ahead. You can do it.”
Bungee cocked his head, still staring at the cat.
“Oh, goodie!” the cat chortled with deadpan sarcasm. “A dumb dog! Very original.”
Bungee’s head twisted, cocking in the opposite direction. His brain was literally working in overtime trying to figure out what was happening. Humans could talk, that was obvious. That was normal for him. And now ponies could talk, Bungee had come to terms with that. But this was something different completely.
If Bungee knew what the word meant, he would have described the cat’s ability to talk as some sort of psychic link. And the cat wasn’t the only one who could do it.
“Ah, leave ‘im alone, Opalescence!” a voice cried, defending the dog.
Bungee’s ears instinctively swivelled to hone in on the girl’s voice, but failed. He instead relied on pure intuition and felt his gaze turned to another dog.
The brown and white collie trotted with a happy pant across the yard, her tail wagging a little. She was smaller than Bungee, but only because she had a much more lithe physique designed for intense sprinting. Bungee had seen dogs like her on military airfields before; trained to chase away the birds that posed a threat to planes taking off and landing.
But this collie was trained for farm work; that much was obvious. He could smell the dirt and livestock on her fur.
“What are you doin’ here, Opal?” the dog said in a distinct accent.
The cat – Opalescence – gave the back of his paw a lick and rubbed it over his head. “I am here for my grooming. What are you doing here, Winona?” he sneered, turning the question on her.
“Ah’ heard there was a new dog in Ponyville. Ah’ jus’ had ta’ come see. ‘N Ah’m glad Ah’ did. He’s a handsome fella’r, ain’t he?” Winona cocked her head towards Bungee and winked with a chuckle.
Watching her mouth as she was speaking, Bungee couldn’t seem to figure out how he was hearing her words if she wasn’t moving her lips like ponies and people did when they spoke. He merely cocked his head confusedly, wondering how that worked.
“Ya’ll don’ say much, do ya’, partner?” Winona asked a little crestfallen. Shaking it off, Winona quickly caught herself. “Ah’m Winona. What’s ‘yer name?”
Bungee cocked his head a little more, causing Opalescence to snort loudly.
“I knew dogs were stupid, but this is taking the cake!”
Winona growled up at the cat. “Don’ be rude! Ah’ll remind ‘ya ‘yer outnumbered here.”
Turning her head, Winona called out to a passing stark-white bunny.
“Angel?” the collie called. “Do ya’ll know our new friend?” she asked with a nod to the dog wearing a ballistic-vest.
Looking over mid-hop, the frowning rabbit skidded to a halt and changed direction. Bouncing closer, his narrowed eyes scanned between the dogs and the cat. “Yup,” – the bunny nodded vigorously – “he was staying over last night. He’s Princess Luna’s dog I think. Fluttershy called him Bungee.”
“He’s named after elastic cable?” Opalescence snorted loudly. “How adorable!”
Angel Bunny snorted hearing that. “Opalescence. That’s a girl’s name, aint it?”
“Well Opalescence isn’t a girl!” the cat snapped angrily.
Winona and Angel shared a look and chuckled. That cat was a spoilt brat. He deserved to get his whenever the opportunity arose. Why – even though he was just a small rodent – if Opalescence wasn’t out of arms reach Angel would kick his fluffy butt up and down the yard. He may have his own prima donna moments from time to time, but Angel couldn’t abide by making fun of the new guy just because he was a little different.
A sniffing caught Angel’s attention as he felt something cold poke him in the back of the head. Turning around all he could see were a big pair of hazel eyes and Bungee’s big nose in his face.
“Gah!” Recoiling, the bunny flicked the dog on the nose causing Bungee to retreat a little confused. “Back up, dawg.”
Wagging his tail, Bungee panted excitedly before darting his face closer to sniff Angel’s ears.
Growling impatiently, the small rabbit planted on of his feet on Bungee’s nose and pushed him back again. “I said back up, dawg!” His fluffy little arm was cocked, ready to show the German Shepherd the pimp-side of his paw. “Don’t make me slap you!”
Winona giggled looking between the fuming bunny and the dog who seemed to think he was playing.
“Where do ‘ya think he’s from?” she asked. “Maybe he speaks another language? Uh… parle vous English?” – Opalescence rolled his eyes at Winona’s pronunciation – “Hmmm. Maybe not.” Seeing Bungee didn’t seem to react – riveted on Angel’s every movement – Winona sighed rubbing the back of one paw under her chin.
“That there’s a military dog.” A crotchety old voice groaned.
Turning their heads they saw a wrinkly old tortoise crawl closer. His pace was slow, but he wore a set of speedy looking goggles over his eyes. His usual shell-mounted helicopter rig was at the Ponyville Library. He’d crashed a while ago totally destroying his flight-gear. Twilight Sparkle was doing what she could on repairs. In the meantime Tank was grounded at Fluttershy’s – since he wouldn’t be able to make it up to Rainbow Dash’s house until his helicopter was fixed.
Rolling his eyes at the old tortoise, Opalescence sighed impatiently. “What do you know you old purse?”
“Tortoise,” Tank corrected. “And that’s Staff Sergeant Tank to you, fluffy-froo-froo!” – Opalescence hissed – “I’m ex-military. Used to be the pet of a Royal Guard medic, yonks ago! I carried wounded ponies to safety. Slow ‘n steady ‘n all that jazz. I’ve seen his types before. Strong legs, good back, sharp teeth! Sniffer dogs, used to find lost ponies or rout out ambushes and the like. Which reminds me of that time back in ninety-six. Back then we all had fancy uniforms, but only got paid a nickel, though that nickel ‘d buy you quite a bit. You could go see a movie, buy a bag of popcorn and get a whuppin’ for that nickel. The whuppin’ was to make sure you paid attention to the movie, because moving pictures were kind of rare back then. A thing to be proud of and paid attention to of course...”
Tank just seemed to ramble on from there as the pets quickly lost interest. Sharing a few looks, they wondered if the tortoise was right.
“A military dog? Maybe he’s Princess Luna’s guardian? Is that why he can’t talk? He’s trained not to share secrets?” Winona asked.
Angel shrugged. “I don’t think he’d risk sharing secrets by saying hello.”
Winona hated to admit it, but it was starting to look like Opalescence was right. Bungee didn’t seem foreign. Maybe the explanation was simple. Maybe he was just stupid.
Feeling something brush her tail, the collie jumped with her heart in her throat. She nearly joined Opalescence atop the fence post, looking back to see Bungee was sniffing around her tail.
“Whoa, nelly! Easy, partner! Gettin’ a little friendly there?”
Before any of the others were able to react, or even try to get an explanation out of the dog, a familiar voice called across the yard. It was a soft, gentle voice despite the volume of her call.
“Bungee?” Fluttershy called over the bottom half of her cottage’s garden door. “Come! Come here, boy!”
Bungee was off in a flash, leaving Winona and the others in his dust. He was across the yard in just a few bounds as Fluttershy opened the back door for him.
The door shut behind him with a rattle of wood and the metal latch.
Winona, Angel and Opalescence were staring blankly at where the dog had been a few moments ago, unsure what had happened there. One minute he was sniffing Winona’s butt, the next he was gone without so much as an explanation. Every one of them obeyed Fluttershy’s commands of course, but never so immediately that they would rudely run out mid-conversation.
Not that Bungee had been conversing much.
“And just like that, he’s off.” Winona sighed.
Angel chuckled. “Not even a goodbye.”
“What did you expect from a dog?” Opal sneered.
Tank was still rambling on mindlessly about what a nickel would buy him back in the day.
Meanwhile, inside Fluttershy’s cottage, Bungee was flat on his back, his front legs curled up against his chest. His mouth hung open, tongue rolled out the side as the yellow Pegasus stooped over him delivering a belly-rub of epic proportions. Bungee was at peace. He had reached nirvana – a higher plane of existence. Nothing else mattered as he happily kicked one of his rear legs.
“Who’s a good boy?” Fluttershy praised, secretly surprised at how quickly Bungee had answered her commands. Even Winona wasn’t that quick, especially when she was distracted by playing with the other animals and pets. “Who’s a good doggie then?”
Standing by her was a taller, darker figure. Her night-sky mane caught on an invisible breeze, brushing the low ceiling of the cottage as the princess watched. With the look on her face one wouldn’t able to tell there was a burden weighing her heart.
Luna smiled with a shake of her head. “Fluttershy, would you please not talk to the highly trained attack-dog like a lap-dog?” They shared a chuckle. The events of the previous day with the Diamond Dog was one of those that scared you at the time, but was something you laughed about with friends afterward. “Thank you for taking him,” Luna thanked.
“Not a problem. He was no trouble at all,” Fluttershy assured. “If you like you could leave him here whenever you’re busy, princess. I don’t mind.”
Luna thought for a moment. The burden on her heart weighed a little heavier for a moment. Her conversation with Mare Do Well last night echoed in her brain. She had been thinking about it all night and all morning. Thinking about what Mare Do Well had suggested.
Thinking about whether Bungee’s owner really was a despicable pony-napper.
It raised some interesting questions. Like whether it was possible for an animal to be evil; or was it their master who crafted their allegiance? There were of course creatures like Timberwolves and cockatrice, but in truth it was simply their nature to hunt. They did what they did simply because evolution and survival drove them in that direction. There was no good or evil involved really.
Luna liked to believe animals were not evil. They did not commit evil, their masters committed evil and dragged them down for the ride. But it was of course a grey area. Much about Bungee was a mystery to Luna, and Fluttershy did mention when the dog was dropped off she wasn’t able to read the dog as well as she could other animals. There was definitely something different about Bungee.
Was it evil? Luna did not think so. Saving the foals from the Diamond Dogs was a clear sign that Bungee’s intentions had been good. Going for the Diamond Dog’s throat had been an action of necessity.
But what of the pony-napper? There was still a chance Bungee did belong to the creature Mare Do Well was hunting. And what if he came looking for Bungee if it was a case they were related? She wasn’t going to potentially put Fluttershy’s life in danger.
Luna faked a smile. “Thank you, Fluttershy, but that won’t be necessary. Until we find his true owner, I would prefer to keep an eye on him myself.”
Fluttershy nodded brightly before turning back to Bungee and giving him one last cuddle. “Alright. Now you be good for the princess, you hear?” Bungee licked her cheek and the Pegasus giggled.
Be good. Luna smiled as Bungee followed her out of the cottage. Considering the evil monster Bungee might be; that statement was quite ironic.
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GREAT!
...
...
...
BUT I STILL WANT MOOOOOOHHOHOOHHOHOHOHOHARRRR!
Also, I would have still liked the numbers to be IQ, instead of age, but I guess you can't always get what you want...
ANYWAY, keep up the good work!
2908422 Besides, I don't think a dog ages 3 years in one night...
Remember Bungee, go for the throat and don't let go until the body stops moving!
2908431
it's a 4:1 chapter number to chapter posted. With the exception of the first-second chapter gap. I doubt that it's his age and more of a play on numbers.
2908579 But Author told me...
2909419
He just said it was in dog years, not that they went by Bungee's age. . .
I loved this chapter. It directly addressed a worry I had building. I thought the "We know Fluttershy can communicate with animals well enough to act as an intermediary between pony/beaver disputes. Why don't they just have her talk with him?" question was going to be unanswered.
I find it more likely that Tank was a literal tank. They just attached pie launchers or what have you on his back then sent him off.
I wonder what Bungee's first words'll be...
"Hello. My name is Bungee. You killed my handler. Prepare to die."
2908422 maybe a percentile of sentient thought? seems like hes understanding more and more....
I think he's capable of sentient thought and able to communicate with the other animals he just doesn't know how
2910070 That's what I originally thought.
Wow this is confusing.
2910019 You can never go wrong with an Inigo Montoya quote. XD
2916522
Offer me anything I ask for.
Anything you want...
I want my handler back, you son of a bitch!
images.sodahead.com/profiles/0/0/0/9/4/4/4/3/7/cymbals-courage-penguin-polar-bear-53461709994.jpeg
(just replace the pinguin with Angel and the bear with Bungee)
I'm starting to hate this Rourke chrackter with every fiber of my body. As I am beeing someone with a soldiers state of mind he disgusts me.
While his motives maybe noble but his morals are not and as such his action become unacceptable.
I think I get Samanthas words now about giving up humanity for the sake of saving the world. It was not about changing your body but about staying, well, human and not sacrificing others for our own needs.
I hope to read the part where Bungee ripps Rourkes throat out. No QTE saver this time.
2910019 PoP
I think his first words would be....
"GET BACK HERE YOU SON OF A BITCH!!!!"
2920022
But Bungee's a literal son of a bitch...
2920556
Well....(lecture mode active)
A bitch or bastard is someone who's father had a child with a women ,who was probably a whore, and said father was going to be marry to another women and back than (1000-1600 A.D. I think) it was a act of dis honor and so it was a insult to be call a bitch or bastard
Luna, now I sound like Twilight
2920646
[citation needed]
2920650
A lot of research and game of thrones
2910070 2915785
After the first human year, a dog is 10.5 in dog years. The first chapter: 10.5. A dog that is two human years old is 21 in dog years. Second chapter, 21.
This is the fifth chapter. A five year old dog is 33 in dog years...
Yah get it now?
2920736
Actually, that's what a bastard is, not a bitch.
bastard [bas-terd]
noun:
(1)a person born of unmarried parents; an illegitimate child.
(2)[slang]a vicious, despicable, or thoroughly disliked person
adjective:
(1)illegitimate in birth.
(2)spurious; not genuine; false
A bitch [bich], on the other hand...
noun:
(1)a female of canines generally.
(2)[slang]a malicious, unpleasant, selfish person, especially a woman
(3)[slang]a lewd woman
(4)[slang]a person who performs demeaning tasks for another; servant
verb:
(1)[slang; without object] to complain; gripe
(2)[slang; with object] to spoil; bungle
And that, my friend, is how you lecture
2920825
(double facehoof)
Well just thought that bitch is the female form of bastard
Tells you how much of a idiot I am
BTW we just got into a argument other cuss words.
2921045
Would yah rather fight over grammar?
Other? Yah mean over?
2921091
1) it was like 12:00-1:00 when i post that and
2) ~WHY CAN'T WE BE FRIENDS OH WHY CAN'T WE BE FRIENDS!!~
2920758 OOOOOOHHHHHH!
Yep I get it.
Oh, yikes! This story is rapidly starting to descend into the grey area. Not the animals bit, that was cute if not a bit disappointing that Bungee couldn't communicate back (Winona and Bungee sittin' inna tree~), but the other bit.
So, if I'm reading this right, Rourke is essentially KIDNAPPING innocent ponies, cold-heartedly MURDERING them, and then forking them over to Grogar to perform vile experiments on and zombify them? YIKES YIKES YIKES!! How horrid! Just THINK about that for a little bit! It's like the ultimate crime against sentient life. Whatever shred of humanity Rourke may have still had has been forfeited by this point. What a horrifying concept. Not to say that you should stop, per say, but I think that such an evil act genuinely warrants adding a 'dark' tag to your story, because BOY is that DARK.
Also, zombie love...hehe...only with zombie ponies...
This story has just enough of the playful innocence to make it seem like it belongs with the show, but enough dark themes to make it seem like it was designed for a higher audience.
Well, it was designed for a higher audience, but what I meant was its like the whole show was raised out of the TV/Y rating and turned into words. It is rare to find a story as well crafted as this.
I find it interesting you made it so bungee could not talk to winona 🤔
Then again he is from a world with no magic so I like to think that fits into it 🙂