The Pony Lisa

by Hi World

Chapter 11: Be Careful What You Wish For

>Luna 1507 hours

“So thou art trying to tell us that one of said plaque carriers got out, and took a Pony into thy cupboard to-"
Do they eat their own, Princess? Cos that's what it looks like! Rainbow Dash's voice echoed through her mind.
“… Curl up and nap.”
It started out as an interrogation aimed at Trixie, but after the memory of Rainbow’s question, it sounded more like a ponderous statement.
“Ugh, I guess.” Trixie kept making that disapproving grunt before she spoke, and when she did speak, she was stuck in third person.
Why? It was driving Luna crazy. She really was condescending, kinda like her sister, only this one seemed to be doing it deliberately, where as her sister seemed oblivious to her own patronization. She still missed her though.

This "great and powerful Trixie" had a false sense of greatness and powerfulness, and thought she could just walk all over them like a stuck up cat. One of these days, she would learn her lesson: She isn't better than anypony.

“You guess?”
Trixie nodded, her hat sliding back and forth atop her head.
Luna examined her for a beat before relenting. “Very well then, let us journey onward. Lyra?” She called the aquamarine Unicorn over as she turned her back on the bodies and marched towards a sealed exit.
It's about time we left this room.

“Uh… yes, Luna? I mean, Princess?” The lowly Unicorn was still gradually getting over what happened to Bon Bon.
“Can thou open thy door?”

Opening locked doors was Applejack’s job, but the farm Pony was useless with anything technical. Better to ask a Unicorn like Lyra, or Rarity if she was with them; that Pony was an artist at hotwiring. Of course Luna could’ve done it herself, but she didn’t want her stars to feel… insignificant.

It was a coded lock, and Lyra simply poked the “open” button with her horn.
“It’s locked, Princess.”
Pinkie sighed with disappointment, “Aaww.”

Walking up behind them, Zecora said, “Oh dear, another locked door? Not a problem anymore,” and stared intently at Trixie.
Zecora, thou art a genius!
No doubt the great and powerful Trixie would know how to open this door.

With that in mind, Luna started on Trixie and motioned her DMR at the door. “Well? Be our guest.”
“Moi? What would you have the great and powerful Trixie do?”
“Open thy door, of course.” She knew that didn't need saying, but then why was Trixie stalling like this?

Gulping, the blue Unicorn paced over to the control panel and tapped in a series of numbers, muted bleeps with every push, until the door hissed and parted.

A pulsating ball of green-gold flesh and gnarled tentacles sprung out of the doorway. Three antennae-like appendages holding red gristle, stretched forwards towards its prey. ‘Twas the fugliest thing Luna had ever seen in all her life. The tentacles that acted as the things legs were definitely familiar: She'd found one within Bon Bon's corpse back in the shower block.

Things just kept getting worse for Lyra; she was the closest, the most eager to leave, the one who now had the foul little bug strapped to her face. She screeched, muffled, choking on a thick, lumpy tendril that the squid-like creature shot down her neck.

“Aahh! Shoot it! Shoot it!” Shouted Trixie with urgency.
As Luna engulfed the overgrown parasite with her magic, Lyra thrashed and reared up on hind legs, alternating between screams and ear-splitting, grating roars that were impossible for Ponies to make.
“Get it off me - RRUUURRGH - aha-ahaahh!”

Derpy and Pinkie Pie grabbed the tentacles that served as the thing’s legs in their mouths; terrible thing to do when dealing with infections. Applejack and Zecora worked on pulling Lyra free from the snot-bag’s embrace, and with Luna’s magic at the aid, together they freed Lyra… too late.

Missing a lot of tentacles, the parasite self-destructed in a cloud of olive mist and goo. Lyra, on the other hoof, was more alive than ever, even as her left eye rolled back and her right eye shot out like a bullet to make way for a thin, ghastly tentacle, which continued to grow into a mammoth, segmented limb.

Roaring and shrieking, what was once Lyra paused and strained, “Ooh,” as her left front hoof transformed into a hand, reminiscent of the one on the corpses in the cupboard back there. With her wish come true, Lyra resumed her gruesome chorus.

Bullets struck the remodelled Unicorn from all directions, causing it to dance with the impact. Finally, Trixie delivered a great and powerful buck to Lyra’s biped form, launching her through the doorway into a fast approaching swarm of slithering parasites.
Pinkie Pie squealed, “Waa! Open the door! Oops, tee-hee, I mean; close it! Close it!"
Trixie tossed a spell at the controls, slamming the door shut, Lyra raging behind it.

“Oh no! Lyra!” Anguished Derpy, who galloped her way to the controls. “We have to save her!”
“No Derpy! No!” Luna held a hoof out and guarded the controls.
“But… but… we can’t just leave her in there.” The dim one’s eyes began to shimmer as the tears built up.
Luna never expected to see Derpy sad. It kinda made her sad too.
“We have to leave fair Lyra, fair Derpy. She hath joined thy dark side now.”
“You mean,” sniff, “she’s turned into a squid?”
Sighing, she stated, “Yes, Derpy. Lyra hath turned into a squid.”
“Oooo, you mean like a tickle monster? I'd love to be a tickle monster!” Pinkie stated before noting the surrounding faces of disapproval. "Um... sorry... I really am sad for Lyra." Letting out a long breathe, she added, "... Poor Lyra."

Opening her wings, Luna towered over Trixie and spoke, “You knew what that thing was, didn’t you? Virus my hind quarters.”
“Ugh, why must you accuse Trixie of everything? What would Trixie even know? Trixie is just the medical officer… ehehe…” She gave Luna one of those smiles that said; I'm lying!
In other words; yes. Luna stopped herself from hurting the devious Pony... almost.

>Rarity 1510 hours

A tiny purple Dragon with green spines and an orange prison jumpsuit jumped between Rarity and the Griffin that held a cricket bat.
“Don’t shoot!” He held up his claws, urging her to stop doing what she hadn’t yet started.

She spared the Griffin, for now, and had no reason to shoot the Dragon, though she kept her BR85 zeroed in on the Griffin’s feathery head, as did Big Mac. Fluttershy just curled up on the floor and fought back her waterworks, not really caring about the Griffin.

They’d tumbled into what Twilight had assured them was the maintenance storage room. Shelves holding tools lined the left wall. On the right there were a couple of cubicles that contained wash basins.

Rarity would sure like to get clean before pushing on, if there was any time that is, which there probably wouldn’t be. The Griffin blood that had splattered her in the hanger had dried and gone all crusty.

At the end of the room, a ladder stretched up into a narrow, square shaft that faded into darkness.

The cricket bat; a rectangle-ish slab of wood stained with green, grasped in the Griffin’s claw confused her immensely.
Where did the Griffin find that? When and where would anypony get a chance to play cricket?

Pleading, the mini Dragon continued yapping, “She’s not infected! It’s ok! Just don’t shoot!”

Dragons were neutral in the conflict, but if either side of the war disturbed them too much, they could lay waste to everything. Not this one however; this pipsqueak came across as harmless as a butterfly. Well, a butterfly that could still breathe fire that is.

“Uh, my name’s Spike. I’m a prisoner, but I’m innocent! I didn’t do anything, I swear!”
“That is a Griffin you are protecting,” Rarity motioned her rifle at the brute; half Eagle, half Lion, all uncouth.
Three feathers on its head had been styled to look like some sort of quiff.
How garish.
“Why would we care if it is infected or not?”
Infected? This is madness!

Big Mac’s eyes were lasers, pointing directly at the Griffin’s belittling face. The Griffin continued to stand on hind legs, wings spread, cricket bat still raised. Its head was quite square and it had a pretty small beak, still capable of pecking a Pony to the ground though.

The Dragon called Spike preceded begging to spare his pet, and it almost got to Rarity. He was prepared to die for a Griffin.
“Plea-hea-hease, don’t kill her! You gotta understand; things are different here. This isn’t the Griffin’s fault this time. She’s cool. We’re cool. She’s my friend. She’s the only one I’ve had to talk to. She’s clean, just, don’t shoot! Please! I beg of you!” Spike looked so lost and lonely.

Big Mac wrinkled his muzzle either with fury at the Griffin or with the stench that seeped through the door behind them. Things could get ugly fast, and Rarity’s brain worked overtime to think of a solution without resorting to violence. Besides, given their location, making noise would not be the wisest thing to do right now.

“So be it,” she let the Dragon have it his way. “Lower your weapon, Big Mac.”
The Stallion looked a question at her, then reluctantly lowered his MA5D, not taking his eyes off the Griffin. In turn, the Griffin tucked the cricket bat under its wing and dropped down on all fours.

A quick glance back showed that Fluttershy was ok, curled in a feeble, shivering ball, whimpering and covering her bleeding face. Rarity desperately wanted to rush over and give her the treatment she needed, as well as replenish her blood supply, but she would have to wait until the situation here had fully calmed down.

“Oh thank you, thank you, thank you!” Spike the Dragon cheered with joy, and ran over to Rarity, giving her a super grateful hug that lasted about three seconds.
Cute.
“But if that Griffin tries anything funny, looks at us the wrong way even…” she trailed off, staring into Spike’s green, reptilian eyes; he knew what she meant.
“Yeah, ok. That’s fair. Pee Wee’s cool. We’re clean. Hey, there are more of you coming right? You’re here to get us out right?”
The Griffin sighed and face palmed.
Pee Wee?! A Griffin called Pee Wee who uses a cricket bat?! Now she’d seen everything.

Interviewing the Dragon, she inquired, “Excuse me? Did you just call that thing Pee Wee?”
“Yeah, I mean, I don’t know her real name. I just call her Pee Wee and she calls me Spike, although she doesn’t really pronounce it right, cos, y’know, she doesn’t speak our language.”
Just like Fleur. Poor Fleur.

Filling Spike in, she stated, “I happen to know; Griffins speak our language fluently.”
“Really?” Asked Spike, one eye brow raised.
“Mm-hm,” Rarity hummed, gazing at the Griffin through accusing eyes.

Spike turned to his Griffin pet. “Pee Wee? Is that true? Can you talk…?”
The Griffin squeezed its eyes shut and gritted its beak in frustration.
“… Say something Pee Wee!”
Finally, the Griffin exploded.

“Ugh! Yes! I can talk! Now stop calling me Pee Wee!” Pee Wee shouted, pointing a long, sharp finger at the diminutive little Dragon, who jumped back in surprise.
Big Mac raised his rifle once more.
“Woah! You can talk?!” Pondered Spike, mind blown. “We’ve been hanging out down here for over a day! Why didn’t you say anything?!”
The Griffin’s voice was aggressive and tomboyish, similar to Rainbow Dash’s, only deeper and gravellier. “Because you’re lame and I don’t like you!”
“But… I thought we were friends…” Spike joined Fluttershy in the waterworks club, only for a different reason.
He gave the Griffin an adorable, puppy dog look.

Compassionless, the big mean Griffin explained, “Huh, please. As if I’d ever be friends with a dork like you.”
“But… but…” stammered Spike.
He wasn’t the only one to have made a mistake, as Rarity pointed out. “Sooo, since you two aren’t friends, I suppose we can eliminate the Griffin now?”

Eyes popping wide, the Griffin realised the error she had made, and held out a talon, urging the Ponies not to shoot. She no longer had Spike to defend her now.
“Woah, woah, er… take it easy guys. Er… I’m cool, remember? Hehe.”
“Hmm. What do you think Big Mac?” Implored Rarity as she raised her own rifle with his.
“Nope.”

“Aw come on guys, don’t shoot me. I’m cool, right Spike?”
The Dragon didn’t answer, just turned away and folded his arms.
“Right Spike,” she snarled through a gritted beak, nudging the Dragon to talk.
“I dunno,” he spoke slowly, thinking about what he was saying. “But I suppose we could just use you to help get us off this ship, right?”
Oh snap! Good thinking Spike!
“That sounds like a splendid idea.” Rarity thought about lowering her Battle Rife, but decided to keep it zeroed in on the Griffin's head, just for a little longer.

Quick check on Fluttershy; she was silent, but visibly breathing, face obscured by her mane.
Soon Fluttershy. Soon.

“So you're lettin' me live? Yes!” The Griffin hissed with relief, pumping a fist in the air. “Booyah! Wait a minute." Curious, she pried, "... What do you mean; "use me?"”
Giving the Griffin the answer she sought, Rarity giggled, "You will be our canon fodder!"
Outraged, the Griffin exclaimed, "What?! Me? Canon fodder? That aint my role, man. That's for you Ponies to do. You guys drop like dominos on the field." After a serious rumble from the white Unicorn, the Griffin mentioned, "Well it's just an observation."

The Griffin would come in handy; they were strong, formidable and elite fighters; perfect for any combat scenario. In other words; not canon fodder. But Rarity didn't want to pay any compliments to someone who may be responsible for some of her friends' and fellow Ponies' KIAs.

Lowering her rifle, she gestured for Big Mac to do likewise.
“Well, Pee Wee, what do you say?” Rarity implored patronizingly, still not trusting her, not one bit.
“Dude, my name aint Pee Wee, alright! It’s Gilda,” snapped the Griffin, pointing at her. “You got that?”
Oh, she got it alright. “Well Gilda, what do you say to us for sparing you?”
“Uh, thank you Pony,” Gilda answered with low spirits, saying “Pony” like a curse word.

“Oh Gilda, please. You may call me madam Rarity,” she ranted, the Griffin growling as she continued. “He is Big Macintosh, and she is Fluttershy,” she addressed both of the prisoners, pointing to each Pony as she spoke their names.

Craning her neck, Gilda spat, “Fluttershy, huh? Yo Spike, come ‘ere.”
The jumpsuit wearing Dragon stepped over.
“Wha-d’ ya make o’ Fluttershy over there?” She queried, pointing at said Mare.

Standing at the Griffin’s claws, Spike peered past Rarity and at Fluttershy, who now tried to hold her stomach, her face still obscured by her trailing pink mane.
He gasped and aimed a shaky finger at the wounded Pegasus. “She… she’s been infected.”
“Whatever do you mean infected?” Rarity wondered, sort of knowing what he meant, not wanting to believe them, unwilling to accept truth from a Griffin.

That mighty Griffin wielded her bat, stood on hind, Lion legs again, and spread her wings. Spike, a speck against Gilda, eyes darting around, looking for a weapon. Once more, Big Mac had his rifle raised at the Griffin.
Uh-oh, things were getting ugly.

“Um… Rarity?” Fluttershy squeaked as her legs strained to lift her off the floor. “I… I don’t feel so good.”

Her face now visible, a mottled patch of olive green encrusted the wound on Fluttershy’s cheek.
“I… I - YYRRRAAAAAH - aha-aha-ahaah!”
Big Mac and Rarity spun to point guns at Fluttershy; their dear, darling Fluttershy, who sobbed with agony and panic, voice breaking, tears gushing from under her bulging blue eyes.

“Rarit-eeeeee! Aha-aha-ahaah! Hnnnnngg… help meee!” She gurgled, choking on something, spewing up lumpy blood.

Rarity’s jaw dropped as her friend transformed right before her eyes. Fluttershy cried and wailed and shrieked an alien shriek, and resumed crying.
“It… it…” babbling with a fresh upcoming of bloody vomit, “It… it h-h-h-huurrrts!”
The poor Fluttershy screamed at the top of her lungs.

“What are you waitin’ for?!” Gilda the Griffin shouted over the transforming Fluttershy. “Kill it!”
Big Mac fired into Fluttershy’s - correction, the mutating pile of flesh and organs that used to be Fluttershy, he fired into its side.

Her body crackled and bubbled, skin fetid, mane and tail malting rapidly, eyes bulging in excruciating pain as her left wing exploded into red and green gloop. A gigantic limb with an integrated, organic blade, longer than the Griffin, burst out and penetrated the metal deck.

The thing that controlled Fluttershy’s body reared up and let out a gut-wrenching roar crossed with the sounds of a petrified, tortured, puking Fluttershy.
"WRROOUUGH-arugh! Hurgh! Uurraa-AAAAARRGH-aha-aha-ahurgh! Urgh! Urgh-YYRRAAAA...!"
Not at all like the soft, adorable voice of Fluttershy.

Big Mac continued to spray it with bullets. The ex-Fluttershy groaned and wheezed, fell to the deck in a puddle of many fluids, closed one of its recognisable eyes, the other one; welded open with whatever encrusted her cheek, and lay still.

Rarity could not believe what she had just witnessed. First Twilight, now Fluttershy. She had a horrible, dreadful feeling down in her stomach that one of them would be next. The odour of Fluttershy’s smoking, decaying corpse wasn’t helping her sickness.

As she stifled a cry that made her throat ache, she remembered what Lightning Dust had said as the Princess held her hoof back on the Red Horse:
I’m clean. I won’t come back.

Looking sorrowfully down at Fluttershy’s remains, bottom lip trembling and a sore throat coming on, Rarity said to Big Mac, “You… killed Fluttershy.”
The Stallion reloaded and nodded. “Eeyup.”
You killed her, and you killed her real casual like. It had cost you nothing.
That can’t have been true. Surely Big Mac had a heavy heart when it came to killing their infected friends, right? She knew she did. That said, the friend she "helped" did resurrect, and the official kill was handed to Big Mac.

Rarity started emptily, “Her Pony tags-”
“Doh forget the Pony tags!” Interrupted Spike. “You gotta rip these bodies up! Rip it up! She aint dead enough-”
“That’s barbaric!” She gasped over him in disbelief. “There is no way I am going to desecrate my friend! How could you even suggest such a thing!?”
“But Rarity! You don't understand! She’s not dead!”
“She is! She is!”
Isn't she?
“She aint! We gotta take her apart, or she’s gonna come back! If you leave them enough… all the important bits, and… they just come back!”

She’d had just about enough of this, even if she knew, deep down, he could be right, and raised her Battle Rifle at the Dragon.
“She’s dead.” Darn it hurt to say that.

Spike backed up against Gilda’s muscly Lion legs and snorted a tiny burst of green flame from his nostrils in warning. A fierce stare from Gilda made Rarity feel small and hopeless, but that was ok; she had Big Mac at her back. Big Mac had always, and would always be at her back. His warm fetid breath, his muted groaning, his claw creeping up her neck and into her fabulous mane. Oh gosh, she closed her eyes and prayed that it wasn’t what she thought it was. What she knew it was.

A distorted whisper; "You’re… going… to LOVE ME-" cut short by a burst from an MA5D.
There was a synthesized drone as Fluttershy died a second time, and the sound of stomping, stomping, stomping.

Rarity forced herself to open her eyes and turned to behold Big Mac, right hoof splashed with red and green, pounding down, over and over on Fluttershy’s mid-section.
Deja-vu: The Griffin in the shower block crushing Bon Bon.

“Big Mac! Stop it! She’s already de-he-he-head!”
She wrapped her hooves around the Stallion to pull him off, but it turned into a cuddle and she buried her face in his short, orange mane.
Spike twiddled his thumbs while Gilda rolled her eyes and said, “Oh brother.”

Wailing on and on, she eventually let Big Mac free from her hug, sniffled, then spoke to Spike n’ Gilda with a croaky voice. “Is… is there another way out of here?”
The Griffin replied, “Yah,” and pointed at the ladder at the end of the room like it was so obvious, which it sort of was.

Wiping her tears with a front hoof, she took the prisoners under her pathetic command.
“I see… We’ll give that a try… You’re on a prison ship; so you must be hard-core,” she theorised with Spike. “Be a dear and take Fluttershy’s rifle over there, won't you.”
The Dragon objected however. “I’m not that hard-core, nobody’s that hard-core! She touched it! I aint touching it, I aint even going near it!” He shuddered, grossed out by the idea.

Suddenly, Gilda jumped in. “Hey, I’m hard-core! I'll take Flutter's gun. Hehehe.”
The Griffin strode over to the pudding of Fluttershy until Rarity skidded into her path to block her.
“Ah-ah-aah! Nooo. Never, in all my life, will I gladly hand a weapon to a Griffin.”
Said Griffin moaned, “Aw come on!”
“Nope. Spike, take it.”
With that, she magiced the MA5D Assault Rifle into his claws.

“But… what about Gilda?” He whined. “Gilda deserves a better weapon.”
“Isn’t it enough that we havn’t shot her?”
Rubbing his shoulder, he sighed, “Yeah, I guess.”
“Gilda can keep her cricket bat, and she can be the one on point.”
The Griffin was livid. “You gotta be kiddin’ me!”
A humourless glare and motion of the Battle Rifle from Rarity, and the Griffin finally accepted.
“Nnnngg. Fine!”

“Lovely. Gilda, Spike, me and Big Mac, in that order. Ready?” No response. “... Onwards.”

Gilda clawed her way up the ladder, slurring incoherently to herself, Spike following her.
“No one’s in charge of this ship,” the Dragon murmured. “The Flood got out. There’s no one in charge of this ship anymore.”

Author's Note:

Good bye Lyra, good bye Fluttershy and hello Spike n' Gilda!
Use Times New Roman and Medium Dark background for the best read!
In case you were wondering; there are 18 Chapters of The Pony Lisa. 19 if you count the Prologue.

Comments

[Cheesy Arachnid]

Why couldn't Flutters have died in a not so gorey way? :'(

[Hi World]

3473704 Because nothing makes people cry more than seeing Fluttershy die a horrible death. Since Flutters is my fav pony, it was super hard to write her scene lol

[Cheesy Arachnid]

3473840 I can only imagine how hard it must have been...