• Published 3rd Dec 2014
  • 1,640 Views, 77 Comments

Scootaloo, Dark Angel - Dusk Melody

My name is Scootaloo, i'm a vampony. I'm 123. This is my story. My marefriend, interested about my life spent wandering across Equestria asked me to write it all out

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Leaving Baltimare

DARK ANGEL –Scootaloo’s Story

Chapter 1

Hey. My name’s Scootaloo. I think it is anyway. Haven't used it in a while. She calls me Dark Angel, or just Angel. Funny that, she calls me Angel, but I'm not. I'm a killer. This diary was her idea. Since I've lived so long she thought it'd be an idea to write it all down. Don't ask me why. I just go with it, as if I could refuse her anything.

So, here we are. I'm sat in her bedroom, at her desk with an empty book in front of me waiting for me to write. Feels weird, haven't felt the need to write anything for a long time.

Where to start?

Suppose I should tell you about me. It's 2014, so that'd make me 105. I was born a Pegasus in 1891, in the city of Trottingham. My mum was a Pegasus, my dad was an Earth pony. I was just 18 in 1909, barely out of fillyhood, but not quite a full mare, when I was born again. Oh screw it that makes me technically 123. Hell I was never very good with math. Go with whatever you like. The twist? I'm a vampony. Don't believe me? Couldn't care less, I'm not begging you to read this.

So yeah, I'm a vampony. An immortal, undying vampony. No, I don't know Dracula, and no I don't sparkle in the sun like those idiotic movies all the colts and fillies seem to love. I mean, why for Celestia's sake do they watch such rubbish?

I don't remember much about the mare who made me. She was a Unicorn, I remember that, and her name was Nightfall. I don't know why she chose to turn me. I remember her drinking from me, my life force being drawn into her. As I neared death, Nightfall gave me a choice, die or join her. Given the alternative I chose to become like her. It was a simple thing she did. She bled me a little more to the very point of death itself then she bit herself, then let her blood drip into my mouth. All I had to do was drink it. I did, slowly at first then more urgently as I got the taste of it. She held me as I died, her arms were like iron, keeping me on my hooves. The pain of it was excruciating.

Just a mortal death. That's how she described it as it was happening. Nightfall stayed with me as the magic in her blood wrought it's changes upon me. As soon as it was done however she was gone. I never saw her again.

Now we have that out the way, back to me. I'm an 18 year old filly, or so I look it to the world. I'm 5” 7, which was tall for back then. I used to have a deep orange coat, my fur has paled over the years. My purple hair and tail remain the same though, although since my change the texture is finer. Or my sense of touch is more refined. You decide. My eyes changed when I did, I used to have such lovely green eyes. They're a deep red now, hence the need for shades. Shame, I do miss my old eyes.

Clothes. I wear leather. Black leather. Have done since ‘74. Thank Vocal Chord for that. That mare knew her way around a microphone, and boy could she rock a guitar! Shame I have to make holes in the jacket for my wings, but hey we can't have everything. Should also tell you about my bike. My bike is my baby. A Harley Davidson Thunderbike. Black with cute little flames everywhere. I remember seeing her for the first time back in ’03 in the showroom. Love at first sight is such a cliché but, man when I saw that bike it almost made my heart beat. It's one of the few things I own that's actually mine, that I paid for with money. Not that I don't have any money, but usually I just take what I want. This was different. Me and that bike have been together 11 years now, and I love it almost as much as I love her.

Right that's the boring introduction out the way. I'm going to tell you how I came to be in this toilet of a town called Ponyville, and about how I met her. This part of my story starts in 2011, three years ago.

Ha! You thought I was going to detail every one of my 123 years didn't ya? Well tough shit ‘cos I ain't. Mainly ‘cos I can't remember most of my early years. You get to 123 and tell me what you did over a century ago then we’ll talk. I might go back and tell you about it another time, then again I might not. Who knows?

Anyway. 2011. It was February I think, or maybe March. One of the two. I loved the winter months ‘cos the nights were longer, so more darkness the more I get to ride. Seeing as the royal sisters raise the sun and the moon in Equestria, I never did understand why the winter nights were longer. I'd been in Baltimare for a few weeks. Figured it was time to move on. I don't tend to stay in one place too long. I learnt long ago authorities get suspicious when ponies suddenly go missing, and too many kills in one place soon draws attention, attention I can do without.

So here I was, leathered up and about to get underway. It was a shame really. I'd miss Baltimare. I remember checking my little map, noticing this little speck called Ponyville that I'd never been to before. Seemed ideal. I'd follow my usual routine, secure an empty building, use it as a base, kill a few ponies, then leave before too much heat built up. Simple but effective. Mind you, I didn't have to work so hard to remain hidden these days. Now I was over a hundred I didn't need to feed every night. Hell sometimes I could go as much as three days before the thirst overtook me. I'd try and push myself to last it out, the more time between kills meant less victims, and the more time I could spend before moving on.

I had fed earlier that night. Some Pegasus stallion drug pusher had tried to assault me as I left my empty apartment and walked towards the garage that held my bike. I saw him as soon as I'd shut my door, pretended not to notice him crossing the street towards me as I turned my back on him. He must've thought I was making it easy. I love to play along. I could hear the stallions hooves on the pavement behind me, could smell the drugs in his system. They'd make his blood taste delicious when I took him. I was about to put the keys in the garage door when I felt the blade of the knife against my back, his fetid breath issuing threats, telling me to give him my money or he'd kill me.

Good luck with that I thought.

Anyway I wanted some fun so I suppressed a smile, turning to him I put on my best ‘shocked little filly’ face and ran down the alleyway next to the garage. He chased me of course. Idiot. He didn't realise his mistake until I'd stopped running and turned on him. He was expecting a scared little filly, what he got was my fangs around his neck. I remember he struggled, even stabbed me a couple of times in the belly. Didn't save him. I overpowered him easy enough. He was still trying to fight me when my teeth broke the skin of his neck, right up until I started drinking his blood. Then he stopped fighting, like he was accepting it. He let me take him.

I started sucking gently, drawing his blood up through the ruptured artery. I loved this part. All his past was in his blood, his wickedness, his cruelty. We connected then, as I slowly drained him. I made sure to take my time, I savoured his taste, the feeling of his heart trying to beat ever harder to pump more blood, and then gradually starting to beat slower and slower. Hmmmm the tangy copper flavour of his blood was mixed with the drugs in his system, it was quite intoxicating, I could feel his fluids coursing through my own body. Such a rush. All too soon though it was over. I had drained him to the point of death and it was time to let him go. I pulled my teeth away, biting my tongue I used my own blood to seal the wounds on his neck, I felt him gasp as I licked him, tasting his sweat. He died in my arms, his body going limp as I laid him on the ground. I wondered for a moment if he knew how intimate that had been.

Probably not. Picking out a cigarette I lit up and took a long hard drag I went back to the garage and got my bike ready. Turning the ignition I pumped the throttle, and she burst into life with a roar. Casually flicking the cigarette away I accelerated away from Baltimare, towards whatever Ponyville had to offer.

The three hour ride was uneventful, there wasn't much traffic at that time of night. Suited me though as I was able to keep my speed at a steady 100 miles an hour. I couldn't help grinning like a filly. I loved speed, the adrenalin kept my preternatural reflexes sharp. I was never much good at flying, despite my wings. The speed of the bike gave me a similar release though. I never bothered with a helmet, not as if a crash was going to kill me. Anyway the wind rushing through my mane just added to the euphoric feeling, especially has I'd just fed not long before.

Before long I started seeing lights in the distance, getting closer. I eased of the gas and began slowing down. No point drawing police attention by speeding. I remember pulling up on the outskirts of the town.

The first thing I noticed about Ponyville was the smell. Baltimare and Fillydelphia before it had both been on the east coast, the fresh tang of the ocean was everywhere. They were beautiful places, bright and clean, the salty air from the sea overpowered even the exhausts from all the cars. By contrast Ponyville stank. It reeked of exhaust fumes and factories. Maybe it was my heightened sense of smell. I cursed being a vampony then. I could only imagine it didn't smell as bad to the mortal ponies who lived here. Maybe it did and they didn't notice anymore.

I stand by my earlier statement at the start of this diary, Ponyville was a toilet of a town.

To be honest I was tempted to throttle up my bike and carry on. I would have if the night wasn't almost over. Luna had been generous with her night, however the inky black of night was giving way to a royal blue smudge on the horizon, I knew dawn was coming and Celestia would be raising her sun any time now. I also knew I had no chance of reaching anywhere else before it got here. So, burdened by the need to find shelter I rode further into this reeking cesspit trying not to throw up as I gagged slightly. This smell was going to get everywhere, I just knew it. It was almost as if the aroma had a physical presence.

Oh well. Needs must when the devil shits on your eiderdown, as my old dad used to say.

I rode slowly through the streets, looking for an abandoned house. Hopefully one would present itself soon, there was a definite yellow glow on the horizon now. Desperation was setting in when I rounded the corner of what I saw was a street of shops, or what used to be a street of shops. Most of them were shut down, left empty. Only a couple showed signs of life. I rode past one, a three story building obviously still being used as its façade was in better repair than the others around it. I pulled up and gave a look. White and purple paint shone even in the half light of early morning. It was well cared for. “Carousel Boutique” was painted on the front in fancy writing. A clothes shop then. Breathing through my nose I caught the scent of perfumes and spices. Whoever lived here liked expense certainly. I passed it by, not my thing and besides I wasn't hungry.

Next door to it though was an ideal candidate. Two story building, faded paintwork and chipped plaster showing bricks underneath. Windows boarded up and a small alley at the side. Not perfect but it'd suffice for today at least. Dismounting my bike I pushed it down the alley, and chained her securely to a drainpipe. Round the back there was another boarded up door, which opened easily to a quick punch. Once inside I quickly piled some furniture in front of the door, barricading it shut.

A quick listen and a sniff told me the place was in fact empty, save a few rats. Ignoring the downstairs I hurried to the first floor, hoping to find a bed. I was in luck, sort of. While there was a bed the mattress smelt of some unimaginable incident even I was reluctant to think about.

I was wishing now I hadn't killed that family of four in Baltimare the other night. I got greedy, but by the goddesses the mare, her stallion and two fillies were delicious.

Oh well. As I said needs must.

I remember that first day in Ponyville like it was yesterday. I wrinkled my nose in utter disgust as I laid on the bed in the darkness, feeling the weariness of dawn coming to claim me. I needed sleep, and no matter where I was I was going to get it.

That's when I first heard her. I was settling on the bed, almost asleep when I caught the single most beautiful sound I'd ever heard. It was a mare singing. In my drowsy state I couldn't place where the sound was coming from, only that it was close. Unknowingly she sung me to my slumber that morning, as a mother would a troublesome foal. Three years later I can recall perfectly the song. It was simply beautiful, and whoever it was sung it perfectly. I resolved when I woke up later that night I would find whoever it was. I wanted to meet her, to know her. Not to eat, no, hers was a voice too beautiful to silence. Such a thing would be unthinkable. With that thought on my mind, I slept.

There. That's how I arrived here three years ago. As for the rest, and why I'm still here, you'll have to wait till tomorrow. The sun is almost up, and I've been sat here all night writing this. She's been sat with me of course. Not a night passes when she isn't at my side. I'll finish off with the song she sang that morning. It's kind of our song. Sweetie Belle sings it to me whenever I'm upset or in a temper. She knows it calms me.

Here I walk, here I walk
Looking for an Angels wings in the den of the hawk.
Here I am, here I am
With a choice between an also ran and a sunbed tan.

You think you found your own little look?
How I misjudged, how I mistook
You think you found the style of your hair?
I guess tonight I'll take, take these troubles to,
The rocking chair.

So I'll take these high heeled shoes,
And yes I'll take these traditional views.
I'll take this deep despair, of a thirty year old square,
To the rocking chair.

Here I sit, here I sit
Looking for a warm smile in the house of cold wit.
Here I stand, here I stand
Torn between a balding drunk and no-man’s land.

They let you know when you reached your peak,
Where the wolf whistle rung there's a deafening shriek.
Blowing kisses into thin air,
I guess tonight I'll take, take these troubles to
The rocking chair.

So I'll take this awkward stance,
And I'll take this sexless dance
I'll take this deep despair, of a thirty year old square
To the rocking chair.

I’m lying next to her now, Sweetie Belle. my Sweetie. A more perfect Unicorn mare you will never meet. She cuddles me as drapes her warm arm over my cold body. Curtains drawn to keep out in the invading sun. I snuggle – shut up your laughing. I snuggle ok? Right, I snuggle next to her and drift off to a contented sleep, as Sweetie gently snores into my neck. Not for the first time I'm tempted to turn her. She's asked me plenty of times and I always refuse her. Maybe I will one day, I want her to live first, and to take that life away from her will break whatever heart I have left.