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Chapter 3

Cheerilee stepped out of her house, closing the door. The morning sun made her squint. She spotted her neighbor Teacup and said hello.

The stallion took the foul-smelling cigarette from his mouth. “Good morning, Cheerilee.”

“How’s the job search going?” the mare asked.

Tea hung his head. “Not very well.”

“I can suggest your name to the art department,” said Cheerilee. “Maybe they can use your expertise for clay modeling class.”

The bronze-colored pony brightened. “Really? That would be great.”

Cheerilee gave him a smile and headed towards school. Tea was not a bad pony. She didn’t know him that well, but he seemed to be a good neighbor.

The lavender mare’s job at the Hoofshire School was not too difficult. Princess Luna had prepared false credentials good enough to get Cheerilee a job as school superintendant. Essentially, it was her duty to oversee the principals and school board for elementary, middle, and high schools.

Having been a teacher, Cheerilee never had a high opinion of administrators. Now that she was one, the mare felt that her prejudice was warranted. She had few tasks to complete during the day, and no homework to grade at night.

There were no meetings scheduled, so the day passed uneventfully. In her downtime, which was often, Cheerilee had been reading. Her subject matter varied quite a bit. She’d probably digested more anatomy books than most doctors. Other topics included narcotics, explosives, and magic.

Today, however, Cheerilee opened a book on trauma psychology that she’d picked up from the library. While the subjects didn’t include helping unstable vampires, she hoped there was something she could learn.

It had not been pretty to discover Golden when Cheerilee had returned the night before. Her house was not well-furnished, and that helped when she got rid of everything that the young mare might use to make another attempt on her own life.

Cheerilee’s initial mind-set towards the pegasus had been rather frosty, but strangely enough she no longer wanted the white mare dead. It was odd how the two of them seemed to have swapped feelings.

The mare continued to read, hoping to learn something valuable before she had to go home and face her unwilling apprentice.

▼▼

Golden lay staring at the ceiling. She’d already scoured the house for something Cheerilee might have missed. The pegasus had even tried to tear into the walls, but the protective spell even applied to interior structures.

Cheerilee had explained exactly what had happened in Fillydelphia all those years ago. The schoolteacher had been after another vampire that was attacking citizens. Along the way, the murderer had turned one of her students. Cheerilee had killed them both, but not before Golden had been bitten.

If Cheerilee had been a little quicker, a little more perceptive, none of this would have happened to the young pegasus. She’d become a bloodthirsty fiend who couldn’t control herself. The white mare hated what she was and what she’d done. She hated Cheerilee for letting it happen.

Perhaps worst of all, Golden was slowly beginning to lose the will to resist. The schoolteacher had taken away the weapons she could use to harm herself. When she’d tried to fight, Cheerilee had pinned her easily, making it look almost effortless.

And so the young mare lay, unmoving and uncaring. It felt like there was nothing she could do to control her own life anymore.

As the afternoon shadows began to slide across the walls, the door opened. Golden didn’t look up. She recognized the now-familiar sounds of Cheerilee. The lavender mare stepped into the room, eyeing the supine pegasus on the floor.

“Have you been lying there the whole time?” asked the schoolteacher.

“No. I just thought you might like to see me assuming the position for more suffering.” Golden was still remembering how to use sarcasm, but thought she did a decent job.

Cheerilee was unamused, but asked, “How did you know I was coming?”

“I can hear you,” murmured Golden. “You aren’t very quiet.”

In response, Cheerilee went completely silent. The sudden lack of sound made the white pony sit up in surprise. The lavender mare stood motionless as if made of stone, no breathing, no heartbeat.

“How…?” It was almost as jarring to Golden to observe Cheerilee going full vampire as it was to be casually overpowered in a fight by the average-looking schoolteacher.

Cheerilee took a breath, the gentle lub dub from within her chest restarting. “Let me teach you.”

Golden nodded slowly. The other mare pointed a hoof at her chest. “It’s about muscle control. Your body doesn’t need oxygen, so it doesn’t need to circulate blood. If you want your heart to work, you have to do it yourself.”

It was difficult to find the correct muscles. With Golden’s permission, Cheerilee did some chest compressions on her to help identify what needed to move. The young mare eventually got it.

“But why do I need to do this?” asked the pegasus. “Nopony besides another vampire is going to hear it.”

“Having a pulse makes the rest of your body move more naturally,” explained Cheerilee. “Even if nopony notices that, they’re still going to think there’s something slightly strange about you. Everypony is more perceptive than they think. It’s a good thing most of them don’t trust their instincts, or things would be a lot harder for us.”

“I don’t know a lot about blending in,” admitted Golden. “No practice.”

“I have a few ideas about that,” said Cheerilee. “We’ll talk about them later. Are you hungry?”

Golden admitted she was. Cheerilee let her out of the house and the two of them turned towards the forest. The white mare wondered what was on the menu this time, unpleasant memories of meals past surfacing. However, those scenes were tempered now. The pegasus felt her heartbeat as she walked. It was a feeling she hadn’t had in more than a decade, and it seemed to signal that she was no longer a mindless killer.

▼▼

The club was noisy and crowded. It was perhaps the last thing one would expect to find in a country place like Ponyville, but the famous DJ-PON3 had to retire somewhere. When the mare of (loud) music had stopped touring, she’d settled in the small town.

Amid the pounding beat, strobe lights, and moving bodies, two stallions found enough room and quiet to have a conversation. The older one was carrying something in a small bag.

“All right, what do you have for me?” asked the other pony, a unicorn. He wore a fancy jacket and seemed to be paying more attention to the music than to his associate.

The digger, an earth pony, opened his bag to display a soiled wooden sign. Dead Pony-ville The unicorn glanced at it and nodded. “That’s what I was looking for.”

“Do you mind telling me why you care?” asked the earth pony, honestly curious. The young stallion didn’t look like somepony who really appreciated history.

“Why don’t we go get your payment and we’ll talk about it?” suggested the other. The two of them walked out of the club and headed down the street. The older pony thought the arrangement was somewhat odd, but shrugged it off. He wanted to get paid.

When they reached a part of the street that was suitably dark enough, the unicorn beckoned his companion into an alley. Confused, the earth pony stepped forward. A magical grip locked itself around his neck, the ethereal glow illuminating the cruel grin on the unicorn’s face as he broke the other pony’s spine.

The limp body flopped to the ground, but then slowly got up with a few sparks of magic, its head lolling on a ruined neck. The unicorn started away, the dead pony slowly following.

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