One Bad Apple

by The Blue EM2

Lost Days

Brian awoke as a bright light swung down from overhead, illuminating her face. She’d been locked into a small room, and had been tied down.

“Good, she’s awake,” said a distorted voice.

“Who...who are ya?” Brian gasped.

“That’s not important,” the voice replied. “Who are you?”

“Fuck you!” Brian replied.

“Answer my question,” the voice said again.

“Kiss my plot!” Brian shouted, before cringing. “What did I just say?”

She didn’t have time to consider as a blast of electricity coursed through her body. She barely had time to scream before it stopped.

“What is your name?” the voice demanded.

“Brian...Smith,” she answered.

“When were you born?”

“17th September, 2000.”

“What is your occupation?”

“I’m at school, but I’m also an apprentice hairdresser.”

Another voice spoke from behind the grille. “That can’t be right! The scans we ran suggested that at most she’d be 12!”

“I’ll deal with this,” said the first voice.

Suddenly, a door swung open, and a man in full HazMat gear stepped forward.

“Greetings,” he said. “I’m General Harrison. You’ve caused us quite the mess, having to lock New York down and impose a travel ban into the city.”

“Huh?” Brian asked.

“You’re a media sensation!” Harrison replied, and switched on the TV monitor behind him. An NBC broadcast appeared, with the footage of the Subway car she’d been travelling in, complete with the entire transformation. A bar at the side read ‘Footage supplied courtesy of MTA’.

Brian wanted to throw up.

“And this is the moment when a national scare began, when according to this footage, a young man changed into a horse-like creature.” The footage abruptly shifted, to show the presenter speaking to one of the men who had been on the train.

“Sir, what did you see that night, and why did you choose to record it?”

“Well,” the man said, "I saw a young man...change into whatever that thing was. I recorded it as I feared it was some sort of new disease.”

Harrison switched channels again, this time to the BBC.

“According to the Centre for Disease Control and Prevention, the incident is being treated as a virus outbreak. New York has been quarantined, and no flights are being permitted in or out of the city. We now go live with the director of the CDC, Robert R. Redfield.”

Redfield came up on screen, seated behind a desk.

“Mr Redfield, what can you tell us about this disease?”

“Well,” Mr Redfield replied, "We at first thought this was an isolated case. But it has subsequently been confirmed that there have been other cases across the globe. Our colleagues in the Australian Border Force have confirmed several cases in Western Australia, and another in Alberta was confirmed by the RCMP. This is a global problem, and we are looking into all issues to solve it.”

Brian hung her head. “Oh god,” she whispered. Her face was all over the news, and she had inadvertently started a health scare. And what about that bit with Western Australia? “Kurt was right...”

“Who’s Kurt?” asked Harrison.

“I need to explain this story, from the very beginning,” Brian told him.

“I’m listening...”

Flashback-3 days earlier...

Brian completed another haircut, with another satisfied customer thanking him for his work.

Brian was not the tallest of people, and was of light build, with brown hair and blue eyes. Although just an apprentice, it seemed he already had the knack for removing hair without producing legions of bald people.

He reported to the desk and clocked out, his shift being over.

“See you tomorrow!” the desk manager called.

“See ya!” Brian replied.

Getting into the upstate apartment he shared with his family, he walked to his room, dumping his bag as he went along and hitting the switch on his computer.

“Let’s see, who’s contacted me?” he murmured to himself. His job, alongside schoolwork, usually meant he was deluged in emails. And the usual ones were there; Wargaming.net promoting this, that and the other, his gaming club posting the dates for the next get-togethers, and notifications from YouTube that Defunctland and Yesterworld had uploaded new videos.

But one email surprised him. It was from an Ashley J Smith. He didn’t know anybody of that name. He clicked on it, to immediately be presented with a bizarre image:

It looked like somebody had plonked a horse’s head on a human body. But the message below was far stranger.

“Howdy Brian!” it read.

“You’re probably wonderin’ who this is. Well, I am-I was-yer cousin Kurt. I got an email from this group called MLP: Theory Analysts and boom, I looked like this!

Yer littler cousin Amy got it too, and so did most of us! We’re now engagin’ in spreadin’ the magic of friendship across Australia, and Ah just wanted to catch up with ya!

How’s the Big Apple?

Ashley.”

“This is a joke,” Brian thought. He knew his cousin had some weird tastes, but this just took the cake!

He typed back, “Really good photoshop skills there, Kurt.”

It was the whole MLP thing that got him riled. He knew Kurt and Amy liked it, but he just couldn’t stand the show. It was too sugary and cheerful, full of the hip-hip-hooray bullshit he hated. It reminded him of when his English class had been forced to read Little Women. He shuddered at the memory.

He then deleted the email, but just as he did it another one flew into his inbox, from a group called ‘MLP: Theory Analysts.”

“Seriously, what the hell?” he asked, immediately deleting that one as well.

Another one from the group suddenly appeared in his inbox. It promptly went into the delete pile.

When a third appeared, along with the message, “Stop deleting them,” Brian had had enough. He clicked on the email, without looking at the contents, and sent the following reply.

“Hey, stop it, or I WILL report you for spam.”

A reply appeared almost immediately. “Watch the video, and we will.”

Brian hit the report button anyway, and clicked on the link. Immediately, his eyes were assailed by a bright light emanating from his screen. He covered them, to avoid getting a seizure, and proceeded to watch the video, setting to double speed to get it over with.

It was a video about some little horse called Babs, or whatever. Brian didn’t care. He just wanted this person to stop spamming him.

They did, thankfully. He deleted the video from his internet history, and completely forgot about the events of the evening.

His next day was the same as usual, he had work, and got home. But his parents were out, and that meant a subway trip to get groceries.

“I believe you know the rest,” Brian finished.

Harrison nodded. “Right now, the FBI are hacking the Analyst servers, as we now have a connection between all the cases. They were sent a video that caused them to change into characters from the television show, ‘My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic’. If we can get the evidence, we’ll have them in jail in no time.”

“What about me?” Brian asked.

“Our science team is working on how to change you back, but this sort of thing takes time.”

The news suddenly came up again.

“We now go live to Megan McCarthy, showrunner of My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic’.

There she was, sat behind the desk.

“What do you think of this incident?”

“It’s bizarre, to say the least. What is most surprising is that this incident appears to be a background character.”

Two images came up on screen. One was a police capture shot of Brian, the other of one of the ponies off the show. There was an irritating, earworm-like song playing in the background: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ejBKKbA2a7A

“The resemblance to Babs Seed is uncanny, to say the least.”

Brian perked up. That was the name of the character in the video she was sent! She began to shake with rage. “When I get my hands on them-”

“We’ll deal with that,” Harrison said, walking over and releasing her restraints. “I think you’re stable enough to be allowed to walk around. We’ve got a PC set up for you, if you so wish.”

Brian walked over, although it wasn’t easy without feet, and sat down at the PC. She brought up the Analysts page, and started to type.

Author's Note:

Next chapter's up! Hope you enjoy!