There's a Monster Pony Outside My Window

by Halira

Chapter 9: Searching for the Cat

Morning came, and Charles woke. He could hear the sounds of Saturday morning cartoons playing in the living room. Wendy was still asleep beside him, and he didn't have any desire to wake her. She needed her rest to heal. He was still tired as well, but according to the clock, he had already slept in. A few cups of coffee would hopefully give him some energy. He carefully slid out of bed and walked out to the living room, scratching his rump as he went.

"#We are the E-E-E-E-E-E-Ewoks
We're the spirits from the forest moon#" the show on the television sang.

Usually, his girls would be singing along with it. For whatever reason, they seemed to think that theme song was hilarious. Andrea even used to bring her Ewok stuffed toy out to bounce around with the music. Today they were silent as church mice as they sat with their bowls of cereal on the floor. He knew they had to be tired as well, but nothing was going to keep kids from sleeping in through Saturday morning cartoons.

He silently walked behind them to look out the front window. There was now a yellow police line encircling the burnt-out remains of the house across the street. He'd been up for hours last night watching them get the blaze under control. One thing he hadn't seen during that time was anyone being loaded onto the ambulance. That had been a relief, but it still left the question of where Miss Newman was. She had no car, and no one had seen her walking around after they'd gone to the hospital. Wendy was pretty convinced that the older woman had been at home when they left, and he had no reason to doubt her. If she did turn up, they probably wouldn't find out since she had little reason to return when nothing was left of her home.

Coffee, that was what needed to be focused on. Charles left the window and headed to the kitchen, stopping briefly by Pretty's birdcage to whistle 'pretty bird'. Pretty happily sang back and helped restore some further sense of normalcy to the morning.

He entered the kitchen and started the coffee maker. He noted that the kids had left a mess on the counter from prepping their cereal. The next thing was to refill Cinnamon's food bowl and water. Oddly, the cat didn't come running at the sound of food hitting the bowl, as was typical, and Charles briefly wondered if the cat had been left out all night long. Considering they had at least one maniac who had tried to run Wendy down, it was a much more dangerous situation for the cat. He wasn't fond of the bulky Siamese cat since the cat barely tolerated the adults, but Charlotte would be devastated if her kitty had become roadkill.

Charles did a quick check under the tables in the kitchen before sticking his head in the laundry room and his two oldest girls' room. There was no sign of the cat in any of those places. The coffee was still brewing, so he decided to do a quick walk around to check the other rooms.

A quick check of the pantry, living room, bathroom, and Charlotte's room turned up nothing. He knew the cat seldom went into his room, even when the door was wide open, but he checked anyway, only to find Wendy still sleeping and still no sign of Cinnamon. Had he left the cat out all night? He hoped not, but with how hectic the night had been, it wasn't beyond the realm of possibility.

Making sure nothing was peeking out of his pajamas, Charles went out the front door and walked down to the edge of the yard to pick up the daily newspaper, all the while scanning nearby yards and parts of the street for the cat. When he reached the curb and picked up the paper, he paused to give the ruin across the street a long look. Could Cinnamon have gone exploring that? He hoped not. What remaining walls existed could fall at any moment, and even though these houses had concrete foundations, there were cellars, and if you got the concrete hot enough, it could crack open and leave pits to fall into. It wasn't something Charles could check, and the police line around the house warned of unsafe conditions—as well as a possible crime scene that shouldn't be disturbed if it turned out to be arson.

He walked back to the house and saw the girls were on a commercial break. "Hey, have any of you seen Cinnamon this morning?"

"Naw," Andrea said around a mouth of cereal. Kristin shook her head, not seeming concerned. Cinnamon wasn't exactly friendly with either of them, so it wasn't surprising.

"Cinnamon! Here kitty kitty!" Charlotte exclaimed as she got up and started searching all the rooms for her cat, even though Charles had just checked them. He didn't expect that she had been paying attention when he had, being engrossed with cartoons.

He sighed. "I'm sure he'll turn up. Can you two go tidy up your mess in the kitchen? If you hurry, you can be back before the commercial is over."

"Why doesn't Charlotte have to help? It's her mess too!" Kristin whined as she stood up.

"She's looking for the cat. Just hurry and get it done," Charles instructed. The girls hurried off to the kitchen, exaggerating their huffs so he would be sure to hear. He just rolled his eyes.

He followed them into the kitchen and went past them to the backdoor. Maybe the cat was out back. Cinnamon hid in the bushes back there sometimes. Charles absently noted to himself he needed to work on the unfinished rooms again, then reminded himself that they may end up moving and that work would be for nothing. He grimaced and continued to the backyard.

Instantly, he realized the back fence was open. Not hanging gaping open, but the latch was undone, and the gate was slightly ajar. The last time he had gone through it was the day before yesterday, and he was sure it had been closed yesterday. It was a tall wooden fence like most of the back fences in the neighborhood, save the Westoffs. Side fences were short enough to see over, but the back ones were tall to block out the view of the alley.

Immediately, he visually checked for the girls' bikes, which were the most valuable things to steal from the backyard. They were present in the same place they always were supposed to be. He took a few steps out into the yard and looked up at the door to the crawlspace; that was closed and appeared to have its lock still in place. There were still toys scattered around the yard, and the only ones who would have a clue if any of them were missing were the girls. He could recognize their favorite and most played with toys, but he could hardly keep track of all of them. Nothing seemed to be missing, and the backdoor had been secure. Still, someone had opened the gate, and that made him uneasy.

Charles stepped back into the unfinished rooms and found a good stick of wood to use as a club from amongst the firewood they stored there. He could have gone into the house and found his gun, but that seemed like overkill, and he didn't want his daughters seeing him walking through the house with a gun. It was broad daylight; all he needed was a big stick.

Improvised weapon in hand, he went to the gate. He paused again as he neared it. There were some kind of tracks that went through it. He considered himself a competent hunter, but he didn't recognize what these wide roundish tracks were. He stiffened as he realized one important detail, they entered the gate, and there was no exiting set of tracks to go along with them. Whatever had made them was still in the backyard.

Charles looked at the stick in his hand, and he looked back at the tracks. He was no expert tracker, but he knew by the size of the tracks that whatever this was had to be at least the size of a mid-sized dog, if not bigger. They reminded him almost of horse tracks, minus the impressions made by horseshoes. His mind briefly drifted to Charlotte's claims of a vampire pony before dismissing that as purely ridiculous. However, whatever made these tracks was big enough that it could be dangerous to him and his family, and it was also big enough that a stick seemed to be woefully unprepared for confronting it. He needed his gun, even if it meant his daughters seeing him walk through the house with it.

Shutting the gate would be a bad idea. He may need to chase whatever the thing was out of the yard. He turned and headed towards the house to get his gun.

"Hey! Over here! In the bushes!"

He turned and stared at the bushes in bewilderment, recognizing the voice. "Miss Newman?"

"Get me some clothes!"

He dropped the stick and headed towards the bushes. "What are you doing in there?"

"Stop!" Miss Newman ordered. "Don't come any closer yet."

He did as instructed. "Why? Are you hurt? Is there an animal in there with you? I saw—"

"I'm stark naked and need clothes!" Cinnamon came running out of the bushes as Miss Newman shouted.

He gaped, dumbfounded. "Why— why are you naked? Where were you last night when your house was burning?"

"Answers later; clothes now! I've been here all night! Just gather up some of your wife's clothes. They're close enough to my size. I need to get dressed and make some phone calls."

He wanted more explanation, but also didn't want to deal with a naked old lady. He hurried back to the house. This explanation had better be something good.

Comments

[Charlie_K]

I want to guess that Miss Newman is some sort of werepony. But we've seen her as a human at night so that theory doesn't work.

[Jack14]

I know we have to be patient but I need answers I’m tired of being left in the dark

[NotSuspicious366]

My theory so far: Mrs. Newman is part of a organised crime group. Charlotte saw Newman doing something shady, and jumped to the conclusion that there was a monster and managed to scare Andrea and Kristen. When Wendy was telling Mrs. Newman about how crazy her kids are, Mrs. Newman knew that she might get caught. Mrs. Newman called up her fellow gangster, who drove a van, to help her get rid of Charlotte and Wendy.
Their plan was simple, when no one was looking, Mrs. Newman would push Wendy and Charlotte into the road, and her friend would run them over. Wendy's quick reflexes saved them from this. After hearing about this, members of a rival gang now knew that Mrs. Newman lived in that house, and burned in down.

[SirAquila]

11035934
Voluntarily transformed would be my guess. Together with either leakage or voluntary migration from some form of equestria, though if i had to guess more violent then the one we know.

[bkam]

11036249
I wouldn't say that we're being left in the dark, if anything, I rather love the pace that this story has, it just sort of teases you, giving you little bits of info here and there, while also keeping things interesting enough that you feel compelled to continue reading.