Writing by the Seat of My Pants

by Phonyyx

Lycan II

Apple Bloom walked down Ponyvile. She was going to meet up with her friends Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle at Sweeties house. She stopped when she noticed one of her family apple carts in the market area. "Ugh, did Applejack really forget another apple cart?" Apple Bloom groaned. She walked over to the apple cart and was surprised to find a colt sleeping underneath it. "Umm. Hey," Apple Bloom said confused. The colt's head jumped up and nearly hit the bottom of the apple cart. he turned his head to look at Apple Bloom. He had a charcoal color coat with silver mane and tail, both of which were very short and scraggily. He had two pointed teeth at the ends of his mouth and gold-colored eyes. He tilted his head slightly and sniffed the air. He seemed to back away a tiny bit after sniffing the air. "Ummm, what are you doing sleeping under my family's apple cart?"

The colts eyes widened at the question. "I-I um, couldn't find any place to sleep and, I cant remember anything other than that." Apple Bloom was now more confused by his response then his presence. Most foals in Ponyville usually slept at either their parents, older sibling, or close relative's house overnight. And if one couldn't find any family to stay with overnight, then they would spend the night at their friend's house. She wanted to ask him, but didn't want to come off as a jerk for asking such a personal question like that.

"What's your name?" The colt's eyes widened at that question too.

"Ummm. You don't have to worry about who I am. I'm nopony in fact."

"Wha-" but before Apple Bloom could follow up with another question on what the colt had meant, the colt took off. Apple Bloom decided not to chase after him. Mostly because he was already way out of sight.

Charcoal slumped against a wall. He recognized that filly, or at least her scent. It was one of the scents he smelled the previous night, before he turned. He rubbed his head with both his fore hooves trying to remember the events of last night. What did he do? All he could remember was first, being in a darkened building, steel clanging against steel. He escaped, and then nothing. He remembered following a different scent, one of an easier prey to him. He licked his teeth, and tasted chicken. "Did I hunt chickens last night?" He scratched his head and a white chicken feather fell down from his mane. "Yep, definitely chickens. Sigh." His stomach growled. He was hungry. Thankfully, a normal hungry. He had no money and didn't want to choose something to eat from his other diet. "Hmmm, there were those apples from last night." But, if he was caught he would be punished for stealing. He shook his head and looked back to where the farm was. Then he saw a sight that made his blood stop cold.

Van Helsing. Here. In the same town he was in. "Not good, not good, not good," Charcoal muttered to himself in fear. He needed to get out of town, fast. He turned to slink further away from the supernatural hunter.

Van Helsing looked around. If the lycan had done more in its rampage last night, the townsfolk would surely be talking of it. He caught a glimpse of a small colt. With visibly pointed teeth at the ends of his mouth and gold eyes. Could a demon hide themselves while inhabiting the body of a pony? He had never considered the thought before, mostly because he had never encountered a lycan smart enough to think of something. But still, was it possible? He rubbed the bottom of his chin. He continued his walk through the small, quiet rural town. "This place won't stay quiet much longer. Not with a lycan on the loose." He stopped walking at stood looking at the ground. A set of paw tracks. Lycan tracks. He wrapped the hilts of his revolvers in a magical grasp, having them at the ready.

Van Helsing followed the tracks for a few minutes. They lead to a small wooden shack at the edge of the town. They lead around the house and to its backyard. He could hear sobbing. "Not another victim, please anything but another dead pony,' he muttered under his breath. He looked up to see a yellow Pegasus with a pink mane, surrounded by chicken feathers. A few puddles of blood dotted the ground around her. Van released the grip on his revolvers. "Miss."

The Pegasus turned to face him, tears were streaming down her face, she was breathing in sharp breaths. In her hooves were the remains of several chickens. She tried to speak but could only produce uncontrollable sobs.