• Published 13th Nov 2015
  • 1,019 Views, 13 Comments

The Unfortunate Case of Doctor Luna and Mistress Moon - cleverpun

After the board rejects her research application, Doctor Luna tries something foolish; using herself as a test subject. Surely diluting a pony's inner darkness is a worthy goal?

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2. Plunder Heaven Blind

Doctor Luna fumbled with her keys and finally slithered into her quarters.

The university’s desire to put her out of the way had worked to her advantage, this once. The walk to her lab was needlessly long, as always, but no one should have noticed her at this untenable hour. No one bothered to check the outskirts of the campus, either.

She locked the door behind her, unbuttoned her lab coat and smoothed her dress. The ampoule had survived the trip in her pockets. She lit the candles and brought the glass up to the light. It appeared undisturbed. The liquid looked the proper shade of crimson, without discoloration or blemish.

Reduced to smuggling my own work out of my own lab into my own home. She had contemplated the irony and insult at length already. That shortsighted board would regret denying her application. It was perfectly fine to have Celestia’s sister on the payroll, to give her grant funds and read her papers, so long as she didn’t produce anything. “Too dangerous, too vague,” they had lied to her face.

Luna turned to her desk. She dug out some papers, a pen, and an inkwell. She lit more candles, just enough to make sure she could see properly.

Everything hinged on documentation. Without a scientific basis, taking her own elixir would be seen as pettiness, theft, or perhaps suicide. Documentation turned her rash decision into scientific proof. The newspaper articles would paint her as a visionary and martyr, so long as she had enough evidence.

The board would eat their words. Celestia would eat her words. She would show them all.

She brought the ampoule into her private lab. Her proper lab dwarfed it in size and equipage, but there was nothing for that. The electric lighting worked, barely. The unmaintained bulb and flickering light it cast were better than risking candles and chemicals.

This experiment required scientific rigor. She should start with a diluted dose, then move up the quantities prescribed in her research. She fished her notes out of a pile of parchment sitting on one chair, checked them for the proper doses.

She retrieved her first aid kit from the hook on the wall. The contents contained only a paltry selection, but it would serve her. She extracted a syringe, a tourniquet, and alcohol swabs.

She wiped the ampoule down, then broke its head off with the open end of the syringe. Unicorn telekinesis was believed to be sterile, but she had to be thorough. She could not risk any contamination of her results, and magic ingredients were known to have complications.

She flipped through her papers, then drew some of the elixir into the syringe. The lowest dose should be safe enough, she thought to herself. Her research called for greater dilutions at lower levels, and she only had one test subject to work with anyway.

She broke another ampoule of filtered water and drew it into the syringe. She examined the preparation carefully. The color still looked as rich and crimson as before.

“It has to be done,” she muttered. She needed to do something, prove to the board and her sister and everyone else that she was not some second-rate Celestia.

The tourniquet snagged at her coat. “For science,” she muttered. She pressed the needle into a vein, and pushed the plunger.

The liquid burned as it entered her bloodstream. She could feel the path it took, up her foreleg, into her chest and across her back. It dragged heat with it everywhere.

Luna loosened the collar of her dress. The mice had never gotten this sweaty, and certainly not so quickly.

She leaned against her desk. A few beakers rattled, and she straightened herself. She felt so warm. She scratched at her thigh, at the hem of her dress, at her mane. Her coat itched. She rubbed her back legs together. The heat intensified. It pooled in her stomach, in her legs, then spread again, faster and stronger than before.

Remove my dress?

She shook her head. No. If she did end up in a hospital, she would not be found in such an indecent state. It would pass. Surely it would pass. None of the mice had ever died.

She slumped against her desk. Her mouth felt so dry. Thirst clutched at her throat, but the thought of water did not sate it. What else would I drink?

She lurched over, spread out on the floor. She should’ve asked someone to watch her, to take proper notes. Her hoof flailed, tried to find her notebook, but it found nothing.

She couldn’t ask that of anyone. To watch her sit here and suffer would be torturous. The interns could not be asked to participate in illegal activities either, not even the loyal ones.

I need the credit for myself.

Luna shook her head. No, that wasn’t true. Not entirely. Surely not.

She ran her hooves along her dress. It felt nice, the material rubbing against her coat. She pulled up the hem, rubbed her legs. The heat felt so comforting.

She licked the inside of her mouth. What was she so thirsty for? Her tongue caught against one of her canines: the tooth felt longer than usual.

She rolled onto her side. Perhaps this wouldn’t be so bad. The mice had never seemed different, but they had no darkness to mute, really. It had to be tested on a pony, no matter what that idiotic board said.

Them. Celestia had probably pressured them into it. To suppress Luna’s project. Celestia wouldn’t do that, would she?

No, of course she would. That bitch. Luna wanted to show Celestia what it felt like, to be neglected and obscure. To break her and make her suffer.

Luna pushed the hem of her dress up further, ran one hoof along her legs and the other along her neck and face. The things she could do to Celestia filled her mind: the berserk, rampant, perverse things.

Her body burned. She had lit a fire in her own body, and it begged to be set free. Her dress felt like a straightjacket.

Bile crawled at the back of her throat. She vomited, watery sludge spilling from her throat and onto the floor. Her body felt so warm, her coat felt so smooth, but she barely noticed either.

She closed her eyes. She felt so sleepy, suddenly. The heat wrapping around her body felt like a blanket. The thoughts of Celestia choking to death, of leaking everywhere as Luna caressed her sister’s throat and body. It felt so calming.

Luna’s eyes snapped open. She felt her eyeballs strain and pulse. She felt her heartbeat travel across her entire body, felt her spine crack and her body shudder. Then she felt nothing.