Dark Discovery
The rain fell in dark, grey sheets, pouring down on the heads of those ponies stuck working underneath it, mixing with the waves that splashed over the edge of their fishing trawler. The mixed crew of earth ponies, pegasi and a few wandering giffins scrambled about the deck, more resembling the denizens of a kicked over anthill than sailors. Most raced to keep their spare nets lashed down lest the rolling motion of their ship toss them into the ocean.
Red Claw watched them out of the corner of her eye while she grappled with the controls to the two massive nets that already hung off either edge of the boat. Her rain poncho flapped in the storm’s wind, almost useless against the driving mix of rain and ocean spray. The griffin growled under her breath, dearly wishing that she had legendary weather resistance of her pegasi crewmates as the water ran down her coat and feathers in rivulets that might as well have been torrential rivers. Not that her mood was being helped by the stupid net controls, that wouldn’t stupidly raise so they could turn the stupid ship around and get out of here.
As she grappled with levers and dials half frozen by rust and a lack of repairs, Red Claw wondered what powers that be she had offended to wind up in this position, working on a fishing vessel disreputable enough to make crazed storm runs like this one.
They had steamed out of Manehatten running no lights, to attract no attention and- assuming the storm tossing them about like a cork didn’t send them to the bottom- would try and slip back into port before the morning light of Celestia illuminated everything. All so that they could sell their catch without paying any taxes on it. Oh yes, Captain Skinflint was a credit to his name, that was for sure.
“This worthless piece of junk!” she cursed, slamming a taloned fist down on the console before grabbing the control lever with both and yanking it with all her power. Rusted gears ground against each other, straining against the years of neglect that Captain Skinflint had put them through. “No...amount...of...fish…,” she grunted through a clenched beak, “are worth...this!”
With a loud banging snap the lever slammed back into the raise position, Red Claw tumbling back with a shocked squawk. Crane winches groaned and line creaked as their trawling nets were pulled from the silty ocean floor. Scrabbling upright, Red Claw watched their bounty break the surface of the eastern ocean. Even more water poured off the bulging nets, swinging precariously in the air. Red Claw frowned, her experienced eyes already picking up a problem. The right net was hanging heavy. Far too heavy for the amount of flounder and other bottom dwellers stuffed into it.
“Clear the deck!” she yelled, grabbing for another lever. “Overload coming over!”
Fishers scrambled to get out from under the shadow of the bulging net. For the moment it was holding, but Red Claw could practically see the line quivering at the strain that was being put on it. What in the name of Discord’s mismatched horns had they managed to dredge up?
More waves tossed over the deck as a particularly large swell of water slammed into the hull. The right crane was whipped by the sudden roll of the ship, the motion cracking its way down the line. Rope tore itself apart and Red Claw’s stomach dropped right along with it. Flounder, sole and halibut splattered down upon the heads of her fellow crew like some kind of Discord summoned rain. But worse than the lost profit was the fact that something else plummeted with it.
The dark shape struck the deck with a thunderous clang, so loud that Red Claw could feel the vibrations rattle through the metal and right up her paws and talons. A softer bang, this one of the door to the wheelhouse smacking open, chased right on the heels of the first.
Captain Skinflint peered down at the deck, the wind and sea spray doing a fine job of blowing his bushy white beard almost sideways.
“Sound off! Is everypony okay down there?”
One by one the calls came, the chaotic churn of the ship settling as the storm’s fury began to lessen, almost as quickly as it had arisen. Once all the sailors under his command had confirmed that they weren’t seriously injured, Skinflint scrambled down to the deck to examine what had made such a racket. Red Claw found herself looking the same direction, curiosity pushing its way to the front of my mind now that the danger had passed.
There was a great stone coffin on the deck of her ship. A stone coffin that some creature had wrapped iron weights around. Even from her position at the crane controls, she could just barely make out the indentations of carvings on its surface. The ones that weren’t covered by algae and barnacles that is. The whole thing made Red Claw immediately nervous. The coffin seemed like the kind of thing that would crop up in the adventure stories she liked reading as a chick. A weird, strange, alien thing that someone had obviously gone to great trouble to dump into the drink. And yet, somehow, she already knew what her captain’s decision was going to be.
Skinflint slowly paced around it, taking great care to not trip on the chains and weights sprawling out from it like the arms of a great octopus. After three such circuits, he looked up at his crew with a smile.
“It’s old, that’s for sure. Looks like this particular voyage won’t be a complete loss,” he declared. Smug glee was practically radiating off his words. He pointed a hoof skyward. “Because we are going to sell this thing!”
Red Claw groaned, quickly stepping forward. “Captain, this is a bad idea. Just look at the thing! I’d say that the chains are a dead give away that somepony didn’t want this thing found.”
Skinflint waved her off, running a hoof over the surface of the sarcophagus. “Those Manehatten museum types know what they’re doing. After all, how many artifacts from old warlords and dark mages have they put on display over the years?”
“After they made sure they weren’t dangerous!”
“And I’m sure they’ll do that here. Now, let’s get back to Manehattan! Double time!”
- - - -
Manehatten’s docks were always busy. Even in the late afternoon, with night fast approaching, ships came and went, unloading and loading cargo. The clanging of metal, the creak of ropes, the scrape of wooden crates against each other and the grunts of ponies straining to move their cargo all came together into one cacophony of industry. One pony trotted resolutely through it all, unconcerned about the noise and crowd.
Deep Digger probably couldn’t have stood out more from the dock toughs that surrounded her. A dark brown jacket was neatly buttoned over a pale, mint green coat, while a pair of thin wire rimmed glasses were balanced on the edge of her snout. Even her pale pink mane was done up in a tight bun. The overall effect was such that ponies tended to think that she was a librarian. While the questions did get tiring at times, Deep Digger couldn’t entirely blame them. And being a professor wasn’t all that far from being a librarian. There was just more refinement in the knowledge she carried.
Pressing onwards her tail flicked back and forth almost as if she was being tormented by invisible flies. In reality, she was being tormented by the fact that the Manehattan Historical Society had effectively been scooped by a bunch of random treasure hunters...again. It was bad enough when Daring Do waltzed in with some new trinket to show off. At least she was an archaeologist, albeit a very reckless and adventure seeking one. But a bunch of fishers this time? Something would have to be done about this.
Working her way past all of the large container ships, Deep Digger came to the smaller docks, where where both private ships and smaller commercial vessels moored themselves. It didn’t take long to find the ship she was looking for. The grumpy griffin had described it quite clearly as “the rust bucket with just a bit of red near the gunwale” when she dropped into Digger’s office.
Things seemed to be off to a promising start. As she climbed the lowered gangplank, she could see that a large tarp had been thrown over something large in the middle of the deck. So they had indeed found something. It was just a question of what that something was and if it was a historical artifact or a great big rock. She had barely set one hoof on the deck when a craggy old thing of a stallion swooped down on her. The lines of age and a hard life were clearly carved in his dark sea green coat. Grinning past his bushy white beard, he threw a hoof over Digger’s back, practically embracing her.
“Greetings professor! Captain Skinflint at your service. Welcome to my humble ship,” he crowed, gently steering her towards the tarped object. “Now, what I’ve found here….”
Digger cut him off with a raised hoof. “Please let me assess what we have here Captain. I am the professional in this field.”
Skinflint stumbled for a moment, but quickly recovered both his upbeat mood. Turning to the members of his crew that were standing near the item he waved a hoof. “You all heard the mare! Show her what we got!”
The cover was whisked away with a flourish, and Deep Digger’s breath caught in her throat. Carved stone, clearly worked patterns and a geometric shape? This was anything but a rock. Her eyes roamed over the tangled mess of brine soaked chains that coiled around receptacle, pausing on the logographic symbols carved into the heavy weights on their ends. Their style looked completely different from what carvings she could make on the sides of the sarcophagus. Trotting closer, Digger slipped a small pick out of her saddlebags and set to carefully chipping away some of the built up barnacles. Even as she worked though, she could practically feel Skinflint breathing down her neck.
“Err...professor, you kind of have to buy,” he began.
“I’m making sure it’s worth my organization’s bits,” Digger shot back, not bothering to look up. “We do have budgets to concern ourselves with.”
With the covering of slime and barnacle partially chipped away the carvings became paradoxically clearer and more mysterious at the same time. The one figure she had uncovered was bipedal, like a minotaur but with a flatter face. It was sitting, drinking a bowl of some kind of liquid.
The glyphs on the chains look kirin to me but these carvings are more ibexian...but show a completely unknown species. Digger tilted her head up, examining the lid. And that looks like a keyhole of some kind...this is definitely a find. Just play it cool.
She straightened up. “I will give you twenty thousand bits for it and not a coin more.”
“Thirty. Took me a lot of trouble to haul that up from the depths.”
Digger didn’t flinch. This was something she was used to. “Twenty two and you’ll deliver it for me. Your ship is a fishing vessel. This is more than what your usual market value would be on a haul. Take it, or I will walk and you’ll have something that’s useless, taking up space on your ship.”
She smiled internally watching the internal debate playing out behind the stallion’s eyes. “Fine,” he sighed. “I accept your terms.”
“Excellent! Bring it to the Society tomorrow morning. Bright and early, if you please. I’ll have your money waiting for you.”
Striding back off the ship, Deep Digger resisted the urge to jump for joy. If her hunch was right, the royal grants that would be coming their way would be staggering!
- - - -
The Manehattan Historical Society was easy to miss if one didn’t know what they were looking for. While the building was large, it was also largely unassuming. Constructed of white marble, it’s face consisted of eight columns, with seven banks of windows between them, set above a pair of double wooden doors. Still, those doors did see dozens of ponies going through them daily. Mostly academics and ponies who had a love of history. In fact, since the ascension of Princess Twilight Sparkle there was a persistent rumor that the “princess of books” had her own private lab somewhere in the basement. Though, depending on who you asked that lab was in most of the museums and libraries in the country.
As Celestia pushed the sun into the morning sky Deep Digger waited in a room at the back of the building. The loading docks were a wide, empty room, designed to allow plenty of room for carts and the rare motorized vehicle to come right into the museum. And perhaps more importantly it ran right into artifact storage, making things nice and simple for her and her co-workers to unload delivered finds. Steaming cup of coffee supported by her magic, she sipped at it with an absent minded lack of energy. Her mind was already running over the plan of attack for the upcoming examination.
“You’re sure about this thing, Digs?”
Professor Far Sight always was the downer of the office. Digger imagined it was because he was also the pony in charge of the museum's money. The rose colored pegasus was resting on his haunches, watching the rolling steel door that was currently wide open when he wasn’t glancing at the stuffed to nearly bursting money pouch next to Digger.
“I know what I looked at Far,” Digger responded evenly. “Styles reminiscent of multiple cultures but with an unknown species depicted. The wear and grime were consistent with being submerged in seawater for an extended period of time. I would put the chances of it being a forgery to be quite low.”
“Fair enough I suppose...but couldn’t you have worked the price down some more?”
“He asked for thirty to start with.” Digger took another sip. “I think that twenty-two is quite reasonable.”
Far Sight clucked his tongue. “Of course you would. What was your department’s budget back at Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns again?”
Ignoring the dig about her old job, Digger plucked a golden watch from the pocket of her tweed blazer. Celestia’s sun cutie-mark was stamped into the front, the watch being a farewell present from her monarch and headmaster when she had moved onto this position. It was approaching eight o’clock and Digger found herself mentally kicking herself for not setting a specific time instead of just a general “bright and early”. If Captain Skinflint took too much longer she’d have to give the artifact handlers their union mandated break before any work could get done. Already they were lingering around the room, fidgeting with boredom.
But then her ears twitched to the sound of hooves clip-clopping on stone and the groan of wood straining under a massive weight. A moment later a cart creaked around the edge of the open doorway. Pulled by two of the burly stallions from Skinflint’s crew, the captain was perched atop the sarcophagus- which was covered by the tarp again-, chest puffed out like some pirate captain at the bow of his sleek cutter.
“Good morning! I have your prize, as agreed! Now, where’s my money?”
“Hold on,” Far Sight interjected. “Let me take a closer look at this thing. I want to see what we’re buying here.”
Skinflint grinned, hopping down and pulling the tarp away in one smooth motion. Digger allowed herself a satisfied smirk as Far Sight’s eyes went wide and he slowly began to examine all of the intricate details of the sarcophagus.
Skinflint banged his hoof against its stony side. “So, do we have a deal or not?”
Deep Digger pressed the bag of bits against Skinflint’s chest. “Deal. Alright everypony! Let's get it into the lab!”
The half dozen artifact handlers swarmed forward with a pair of pallet trucks. Slowly and ever so carefully, the stone construct was edged off Skinflint’s cart and lowered onto the rollers. The handlers puffed and grunted, muscles straining against the weight as they fought against having their legs buckle.
“Woah!” one shouted, the rear end suddenly shooting up, the front edge almost slipping out of the front handlers hooves. But they quickly managed to recover and with a final grinding crash, the sarcophagus was transferred to the pallet trucks. Deep Digger galloped ahead, throwing the double doors at the far side of artifact storage open and then charging down the hallway beyond to open lab one.
The Manehattan Historical Society’s artifact examination labs were built to be strong, almost to the point of being like military bunkers. The room itself was separated into two sections, the larger of the two occupied by two large tables and two smaller desks all of which were outfitted with bright lamps and magnification devices on rotating arms for examining things in fine detail. The other section of the room was separated by walls made of magically treated glass. Magically treated both for durability and with a latent enchantment that would allow a unicorn such as Digger to fill the whole sub chamber with fire, lest the thing they unearthed turned hostile. It was extreme in the eyes of some ponies, admittedly, but such was one of the risks of doing archaeology in a world with magic.
Digger flung the doors to the subchamber open with her magic. “Quickly, quickly!” She urged, though she need not have bothered. Eager to be free of their burden, the artifact handlers charged into the little room and dropped the lumbering stone casket onto the examination table contained within. As they filed out, Deep Digger and Far Sight took a closer look at the sarcophagus, Far Sight focusing on the side carvings.
“Just look at all that build up. Had to be down there for a few centuries at least.”
Digger shook her head. “I don’t know. Those carvings look older to me. Like some of the pre-Nightmare Moon banishment pieces we have.”
“It can’t be that old though! It wouldn’t be nearly this intact sitting in the ocean for a thousand years.”
“That assumes it was in the ocean for that long. It could have been dumped there later. Besides, there’s no records of a thing like that,” Digger jabbed a hoof at the drinking figure, “existing anywhere within the last two centuries.”
“They could have been hiding. Or that biped could be a mythological figure. We won’t know until we do a proper investigation.”
Digger glowered at their find. Far Sight was right of course. “Well, let’s start by seeing if we have a body.”
While she wormed her magic into the tiny crack between lid and body, Far Sight placed his hooves against the lid. Together, they began to push and pry, attempting to shift the smaller but still decently sized slab of stone. But no matter how hard Sight pushed or how much magic Digger poured from her horn, the lid steadfastly refused to move.
With a grunt Far Sight stumbled back. “Stop. We’re missing something here. Let’s clear some of this crud away from the lid.”
Small chisels and solvent were quickly broken out and the pair set to work removing the work of countless decades of ocean life. Bit by bit the old stone and the designs on it were revealed, until….
“Far Sight, does that look like a keyhole to you?” Digger peered down at the neat circular hole. She could just barely make out what appeared to be stone mechanisms at the bottom. Far Sight frowned at it from his side of the sarcophagus.
“Could be. Think you can pick it?”
“Please,” Digger smirked. “It’s not like I haven’t broken ancient locks before.” Once again she reached out with her magic, pushing it down into the depths of the long unused mechanism. She subconsciously stuck her tongue out as she worked, her little tendrils of magic poking and feeling the stone.
Some of the pieces did move, sliding and rotating at Digger’s pokes and prods. They were tested and moved with a scientific attention to detail, Digger slowly working out which ones to trigger. “Definitely a keyhole. I can feel the...well...pins, I guess. I think they’re set horizontally though.”
“Circular key for a circular hole? Wouldn’t be the strangest ‘lock’ or ‘door’ in Equestria,” Far Sight chuckled, moving to Digger’s side. “For example, almost everything that King Sombra made.”
Digger snorted. “I still can’t entirely believe Princess Twilight’s report about the stairs. Who ever heard of an dark lord of stairs?”
“My landlord comes close sometimes….”
There was a satisfying click as Digger rotated another one of the pins into place. “And there it is,” she smiled.
“Let’s do this then.”
This time the lid began to move, stone grinding across stone, the scent of seawater mixing with that of dead flesh to form an acrid wave that washed over the pair.
Far Sight reeled back, hacking and coughing. “Sun above! You just never get used to the smell.”
Ignoring her partner’s comments, Digger reared onto her hind legs to see just what they were dealing with here. Her heart was nearly hammering out of her chest as her eyes roamed over the figure lying in the casket. As with the carvings on sarcophagus’ side the body was that of a biped- withered and wrinkled from age and sea water- like a minotaur. That was where the similarities ended however.
She- for Digger was quite sure the body was a she- was slightly shorter than a minotaur. Her face was flat, lacking even the hint of a muzzle and sunken as it was Digger wasn’t even sure it had a nose. The mouth was locked in an open position, as if she had been in the process of crying out when she was cut down. Her legs had no hooves. Her skin had no coat or fur, save for on her head.
“Look at those,” she smiled, pointing at the end of the legs. “Almost like the feet of an ape, aren’t they?”
Far Sight snorted. “Really? I’m not sure. Who ever heard of a sapient ape?”
Rolling her eyes, Digger returned to her examinations. Whatever clothing the woman had been buried in had long since rotted away, leaving behind a few scattered fibers behind. The only other thing that she seemed to be wearing was a golden necklace, set into the shape of a cross. Without question though, the strangest thing about the body was the wooden stake driven right into her chest. There were other wounds scattered across the torso. Circular and shallow, they could have been failed stab attempts.
“That’s what I’d call bad day,” Far Sight said. “Also, ominous, since it should have rotted away with the rest of her clothes.”
Nodding, Digger swung one of the magnification arms around, channeling a bit of her magic into the device. The latent enchantments in the device sprang to life an alicorn sight spell rippling its way through the glass. While she wouldn’t admit it out loud to anypony, Digger loved using this particular spell. It revealed both the presence and nature of any enchantments on an item. It was also created as part of the graduation thesis of Equestria’s newest princess. True to a spell created by Twilight Sparkle, it worked perfectly, the stake gaining a colored outline; in this case it was a dark green color.
“Life magic. Preservation charm most likely. Not seeing any evidence of entropy magic on the body though.”
As that bit of information sunk in, Far Sight wrinkled his snout. “All of this is starting to look like a ritual sacrifice or something equally horrific.”
“We don’t know that,” Digger said, levitating necklace and stake to her side. The latter tore free with a sickening, sucking sound that made both ponies wince. Digger walked over to one of the other examination tables, carefully laying both items down. “You know how this works. Examine. Investigate. Write reports.”
“Yes, yes. The grind of academia,” Far Sight chuckled. “Shall we clean the rest of this sarcophagus off?”
“Of course!”
- - - -
After many more hours of barnacle and slime cleaning, interrupted only by a late lunch- it was beginning to approach late evening and the time when Celestia would lower the sun to properly usher in night. The two professors looked at their handywork with a smile. The sarcophagus was now almost perfectly clean of all the build up the ocean had deposited on it, almost proudly displaying its tannish sandstone hue.
“This is going to look amazing on display,” Far Sight sighed happily.
Digger picked up the notebook she had been jotting observations down in. “We still have a lot more to do before it’ll be ready for that. For now, let’s focus on what we can do.”
“I don’t know about you, but I’m going to clean up and then focus on heading home for the night. It’s been a long day. You going to-”
“Stay late and work on my reports.”
Far Sight shook his head. This wasn’t the first time, nor would it be the last that his colleague pulled an all nighter. “Digger, you are nothing if not predictable.”
“Can’t help it,” Digger smiled back.
It was true. She loved the work and couldn’t resist diving deep into the implications of her finds sometimes. The gaps in pony history from the era before Discord’s brief reign were large enough for an adult dragon to comfortably fly through. In this case though she also wanted to write her former student, Twilight Sparkle. The mare was insatiably curious during her time in Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns and Digger had a feeling she’d be interested in this particular discovery. There was a practical aspect as well. Having one of Equestria’s princesses interested in this discovery would possibly lead to more grant money.
“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow then Far Sight?”
“Naturally,” he winked.
Digger set off, heading down the hall and hooking a quick right to her basement office. If she had to describe it one word, she’d say “cozy”. Books lined the shelves on a multitude of topics, mostly history, geology, archeology and other such “egghead” topics. Any spare spaces on the shelves were given over to nicknacks and other mementos. The most prized ones took up a special place on her desk though and perhaps the most cherished of them all was a golden medal in a small glass case.
Pulling a thick and fluffy pillow into place behind her desk, Digger sat down and began to write, starting with a letter to Twilight Sparkle.
- - - -
Far Sight bustled around the lab, cleaning the chisels, brushes and other tools before putting them away. He hummed to himself as he worked, feeling quite satisfied with the events of the day. Possibilities ran through his head. Possibilities, ideas and theories about what this ape relative’s society might be like.
Running a pick under the lab’s faucet, he muttered those possibilities to himself. “Has to be a religious component to this. Otherwise, why drive a stake into her heart?”
The basement lab had no windows, by design. It was a decision that had been made so that passers by wouldn’t try to peek in and disturb the museum staff while they were working. However, thanks to that, Far Sight couldn’t see the sun as Celestia gently pushed it over the horizon. In a few moments, Equestria was plunged into the darkness of night and Luna began the dual tasks of rising the moon and scattering the stars across the sky.
And in the sarcophagus, something stirred. A rattling, dry groan tore through the air, Far Sight freezing mid scrub. He...hadn’t heard that. He couldn’t have heard that. It was a dead body. They hadn’t detected any magic in it. There was absolutely no way in Equestria that body just groaned.
“Calm down Far Sight. Probably just decaying gas or something…. Dead bodies do that after all.”
He turned towards the sarcophagus. Everything seemed quiet, the stone sitting unmoving under the labs lights. Frowning, Far Sight grabbed one of the picks in his mouth and crept towards it. If the body was somehow animating itself, he’d have to activate the magical failsafes. He had to be sure though. They had paid way too many bits to just burn it all at the first sign of trouble.
Rearing up, he looked into the casket. The body was still there. Not moving. Just a normal, ancient dead body, doing normal ancient dead body things. He sighed in relief.
“Heh...just my nerves….”
Faster than a striking serpent one of the body’s limbs lashed out, dead fingers wrapping tight around Far Sight’s throat in a vice like grip. He gagged, pick clattering to the ground, legs failing in a desperate attempt to find purchase as the body sat up, hauling him completely off the ground. The mummified body stared at him with sunken, empty eye sockets.
“D-digger! D-d-digger!” he rasped, the attempted shouts dying in his throat.
Crackling, popping sounds now filled the air the parchment thin skin of the body rippling, restoring itself in a matter of moments. Far Sight could only whimper as centuries of neglect melted away, muscle and tendon becoming full and strong again. And the eyes. Its eyes were growing back in its sockets! Eyes that were angry, glowing red and boring straight to the depths of his soul. Then it opened its mouth wide and Far Sight’s eyes locked on glittering white fangs.
This time, he managed to scream.
- - - -
“Earth to Shang.”
Sun Shang glanced across the table, lips wrapped around the straw of her milkshake. “Mmmph?”
Her sister, Sun Li, rolled her eyes before glaring over the top of her thin framed glasses. “Have you given anymore thought into moving in with me?”
Putting her drink down Sun shrugged. “I dunno Li. I only got another two years till I’m done with college. Then I’ll be off into the job market.”
The siblings were crammed into a booth at one of the many McDonald’s scattered across San Francisco. Sun was casually leaning back in her seat, the picture of casual disregard with one arm draped over the back of the booth. Her sister was the opposite, hunched forward, hands clutched firmly around a cup of coffee. She wore a neat white blouse and a black pair of slacks. They were a very different pair.
Li’s frown grew deeper. “And until then, you’re still stuck living at home with father and his crap. Come on! You’re four years older than me! Why am I the one living on my own?”
Sun squirmed. It was a question that she didn’t have an answer to. Li had struck out on her own almost the minute she turned eighteen, pretty much proving that she was the more independant of the two. Or that she had less of a tolerance for family drama.
“I’ll...think about it, okay?”
Her sister opened her mouth to respond but no words came out, the memory fading away in a wash of light and a warm, fuzzy feeling….
Sun Shang came to in the middle of sucking something’s blood. A pink fuzzy something. While that fact came as quite the shock in her dazed, somewhat confused state, Sun didn’t immediately stop. Whatever the thing was, its blood was like ambrosia. Sweet, sticky, red ambrosia.
Ming Xiao.
The name of the bitch that had put a stake through her heart snapped Sun out of her feeding focus. She dropped the creature to the ground, a furious growl building in her throat.
“That Kuei-jin bitch! When I get my hands on her- I’ll...I’ll…,” she trailed off, taking in her surroundings for the first time. “...Where the hell am I?”
Of course, it was obvious that she had been moved someplace. Ming Xiao wouldn’t have just left the Ankaran Sarcophagus in LaCroix’s penthouse. She’d probably would have locked up a possible threat someplace “safe”. But the tables and general layout of the room looked more like a laboratory rather than a warehouse, bank vault or other secure location. That made her wonder just how long she had been in the sarcophagus.
“...Long enough for my clothes to go bye-bye,” she muttered, taking in her naked body. The damage done by the stake was still there, the holes in her chest slowly oozing blood. Sighing, Sun clambered out of the sarcophagus, calling upon her blood reserves to repair the damage.
“Okay...I’m naked, in some kind of strange building and I drank the blood of...a thing…”
Kneeling, Sun took a closer look at the thing she had fed on. She was surprised to see that it was a horse. Or at least a horse via the way of the girls toy aisle. It was maybe three and a half feet long from nose to tail and probably would have come up to Sun’s bellybutton standing on all fours. It had a bright pink coat, short purple hair- Mane. It was a horse, so it had a mane. And a picture of a spyglass on the side of its butt. And...wings. Sun would call it insanely girly (and completely adorable), but the squarish look of its muzzle made it seem more masculine. Biting her lip, Sun lifted a leg to check.
“Okay! Definitely a guy. Is this like some kind of genetically modified pet?”
Sun really hoped that she hadn’t just killed someone’s equivalent of a dog. Coming up with an excuse for why she was walking around here was going to be difficult enough without someone getting angry that their pet was dead. It’s chest was rising and falling though…. She pressed her ear against the little horses’ side, listening for the telltale thumps of his heart. There it was. Slow, but steady. She hadn’t taken enough blood to kill the little thing. He’d wake up feeling like shit, but he would wake up.
Chuckling, she ran her tongue over the puncture marks from her fangs, the wounds neatly sealing themselves closed. “Sleep well little horse.”
Standing again Sun scanned the contents of the room again quickly leaving the glass chamber for the tables in the larger room. She grabbed her crucifix first, hooking it back around her neck, before rummaging through the desks and drawers of the lab for something to tie her hair back with. Everything in here did seem a little smaller than normal, which just added to her confusion. Where, exactly, had Ming Xiao dumped her?
Finding a small roll of cotton cloth, Sun tore off a stip and qucikly did up her hair in a rough ponytail. “Alright. Get out of here, steal some clothes, find out where I am and then go from there.”
Before she could move though, a soft clicking sound floated in from the hallway. Sounds that were rapidly growing louder. Someone was coming. In a split second, Sun considered the pros and cons of just revealing herself now. At some point, she’d have to talk with someone to work out where she was and for how long she had been in the box. But, the person coming through that door could be a foe, just as easily as a friend. So, she rushed to one of the desks against the far wall, just barely managing to squeeze underneath.
To her surprize another one of those little horses came walking into the room. This one was, if anything, even more adorable than the last one. Pale green coat, pink mane, more rounded, feminine features and an adorable little horn sticking out of its forehead! It even had a cute little pair of glasses on the end of its nose! Sure, Sun had been stuck as a blood sucking, walking corpse for the last five years, but cute was cute!
“Far Sight?” the little horse called out, in a clearly female voice. “Are you okay? I thought I heard something….”
Sun blinked. A talking little horse. So, did the other one talk? Was she now lost in some kind of bizarre, equine based society? Just how long had she been trapped in the sarcophagus? And how the hell was this one speaking English?
The new little horse suddenly cried out, rushing to the side of her sleeping fellow. “Far? Are you okay? Wake up!” she shouted, shaking his unconscious form.
Well, she’ll do… Sun thought. She slunk out from under the desk, breaking into a swift run. Her reserves of blood were called on again, accelerating her speed to even higher levels. The new little horse began to turn but charged as she was by the vampiric power of Celerity, Sun snatched her up, right hand wrapped around her muzzle, left arm across the stomach. She immediately began to squirm, desperately trying to slip free of Sun’s vice like grip.
Pulling the horse tight against her body, Sun hissed into her ear. “Stop squirming or I’ll break your neck.”
The little horse froze, her clearly frightened whimper muffled by Sun’s hand. The guilt was impossible for Sun to avoid. This was a bit like beating up on a puppy. A sick puppy. A sick homeless puppy. Still, she shoved those twisting, snake like feelings down into her gut. More often than not, being a vampire required making hard choices.
“I’m going to take my hand away from your mouth. If you scream or cry out...,” Sun moved her left arm a little higher, so that it was across the horse’s chest now. “Well, with my strength, I can quite easily push your ribcage into your lungs. Nod if you understand.” The little horse nodded and Sun took her hand away. “What’s your name?”
“P-professor Deep D-digger,” she managed to stammer out.
“A professor huh? What of?”
“Arc-archeology. P-please. Don’t kill me.”
“I’m not going to kill you, if you help me. Your friend there? He’s just sleeping.”
“Okay. Okay,” Digger said, breathing hard.
“The sarcophagus. Where did you find it?”
“Some fishers hauled it up off the coast,” Digger said. The pony seemed to be recovering some of her nerve, speaking with greater confidence. “The museum bought it.”
“What museum? What’s the name?”
“We’re the Manehattan Historical Society.”
Manehattan. Aside from being a horrible pun, that did tell Sun something. At least, she thought it might. Assuming that Manehattan was near Manhattan, she would have switched coasts from LA. Or was Manehattan built ontop of LA?
Ugh. This is beyond fucked up. Sun mentally grumbled. But, instead she asked a different question. “What year is it?”
“One thousand and four, New Equestrian Calendar.”
No help there then. “Does the word ‘human’ mean anything to you?”
“No. Is that what you are?”
“Vampire?”
“...Like a vampire fruit bat?”
“...That’s a thing?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?” Digger practically screamed.
This wasn’t getting Sun anywhere. Time to move on. “So, Digger, you’ve been very helpful, but I’m going to have to impose on you some more.”
“What do you want?”
“A place to stay.”
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Ha! Bloodsucker & Horn Horse.
I am fine with Sun waking up from torpor without blood, after all, it happens in the game. Hell, it's what your character fully wakes up from as an undead. Then again, that is my only exposure to the WoD. Anyway, seems a much better start this time, especially with her clothes not reconstituting out of dust. Yes, I was bothered by that, but not enough to bring it up.
GreyGuard, you don't need smoke bombs when you have... MAGIC!! *waves hand*
Nice start I'm looking forward to where your going to take the story this time, it will be interesting to see how Sun's world (the world of darkness) and the pony's one contrast in this version of the story, also how Deep Digger is going to cope with her new blood sucking house guest.
Also GreyGuardPony you might want to make it clear that Deep Digger is a unicorn when you first introduce her.
7358213 where did you read about Sun's clothes reconstructing themselves from dust in the original version she grabbed a sheet from Twilight's airing cupboard.
Looking forward to the next chapter.
Evidently, the shipcrew in the previous chapter did not reach the edge of the continental shell after all.