• Published 22nd Jan 2013
  • 41,954 Views, 2,886 Comments

The Monster in the Twilight - Georg



Twilight Sparkle’s brilliant mind was gone, burned away by her own power when she nearly destroyed Canterlot twelve years ago. Now there is a monster prowling the Everfree. And it is starting to remember what true power felt like.

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Ch. 6 - Generosity

The Monster in the Twilight
Generosity


“It ain’t right,” complained Scootaloo, bouncing a ball idly against the wall of the tree clubhouse. “She’s gone off somewhere to do homework again. Why can’t she ever do homework with us?”

“You do homework?” asked Sweetie Belle with a tilt to her head as she tried to imagine the words ‘study’ and ‘Scootaloo’ in the same sentence.

“Well, when I can. I’m busy a lot, since I’m always helping out at the shop and crusading with my friends.” Scootaloo gave up on the ball and trotted over to the clubhouse balcony to look out across Sweet Apple Acres and think out loud. “So, who does she do homework with, anyway?”

“I don’t know.” Sweetie Belle joined her fellow crusader on the balcony. “Who do you think? Diamond Tiara?”

“Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon hate our guts.”

“Twist?”

“No, Twist’s sister lives over her candy shop. Apple Bloom would smell like candy when she got back from doing homework. You don’t think the reason she’s so secretive is because she’s over at a—” Scootaloo shuddered “—colt’s house, do you?”

“You mean like Featherweight? He’s not so bad, for a colt. But his whole house smells like photo developing fluid. Apple Bloom smells more like dirt and plants when she gets back from homeworking.” It was Sweetie Belle’s turn to shudder. “Rarity would dunk me in the tub and scrub me for hours if I came home like that.”

* * *

Scootaloo gave Sweetie Belle a ride back to the Carousel Boutique, but without the additional presence of Apple Bloom, the extra speed she was able to squeeze out of the scooter just did not seem worth it. There was still an hour before she was supposed to be back at the machine shop to help Aunt Quick Fix clean up the tools and things before dinner. It did not leave much time for cutie mark searching, but plenty of time to travel out to Sweet Apple Acres and talk to Apple Bloom. She was looking forward to using her favorite path and setting a new solo speed record.

Five minutes later as she pulled herself out of a thorny bush by the roadside, all thoughts of setting a new speed record were gone from her mind, replaced with the possibility of getting a cutie mark in setting broken bones, perhaps. A quick inventory of limbs and pains showed nothing missing or bent in the wrong direction, except the back wheel of her scooter was even more twisted than before.

That’ll cut into my top speed something terrible. It’s a good thing I’ve been saving up my bits from what Auntie pays me for cleaning up the machine shop. What’s this?

A number of small hoofprints on what appeared to be a path to the side of the road caught her interest. It was a little out of the way, but Scootaloo carefully placed her hoof alongside one the other small hoofprints and checked carefully just in case. It was familiar, because there was a little nick in the side of the other print just like Apple Bloom had nicked her hoof falling off the wagon last week. After brief consideration of the small trail leading into the Everfree Forest, the young filly shook her head.

“Apple Bloom? What are you doing in the forest?” she whispered to herself, looking down the path before slinging the scooter over her shoulder and trotting confidently in pursuit of her friend.

* * *

The trail seemed to have been trod a great number of times by tiny hooves or Scootaloo would never have been able to follow it. Occasionally, in damp spots along the trail she would stop and try one of the techniques of tracking she had learned from the ‘Action, Danger Ranger’ series of books.

Stop.

Squint at the tracks.

Declare something about them.

So far, she determined that Apple Bloom liked to jump in mud puddles just like she did. There was a certain feeling about passing through the border of the Everfree Forest, a light tickle about the wings that gave warning about landing on any clouds to experienced pegasi, but to Scootaloo it just felt like an annoying itch.

Eventually, the well-trod trail ended, but not in a clearing or some interesting place filled with ancient ruins or hidden jungle temples. It just went straight up to a bush and vanished. A plain, ordinary, green bush. Scootaloo scratched her head and kicked over a nearby clump of blown leaves. This was a waste of time. A cautious nibble disproved the theory that it was an ice-cream bush, and a quick trip around the bush showed no other trails.

Only one way to find out if she’s in there.

Scootaloo shoved her head inside the bush and yelled, “Hey AppleBlooOOOHHHMYYYAARRRHHGG!!!!”

With a piercing scream, the filly launched backwards out of the bush, fleeing up the path in a panic-driven gallop that did not touch the ground for yards at a time. An explosive bang from behind accelerated her gait to dangerous levels, even for Scootaloo. Wings buzzing faster than she had ever flapped before, her hooves spraying dirt in all directions, she barely avoided colliding with trees and rocks until she fell out onto the main road, far away in a scramble of legs, panting so hard the world seemed to be fading in and out.

When Scootaloo had finally caught her breath and gotten a tentative grip on her panic, her eyes wanted to go in three directions. She could flee to Sweet Apple Acres and get Big Macintosh to go rescue Apple Bloom from having a book read to her by a monster. Or… No, wait.

She had seen a monster, there was no doubt of that. It certainly fit the ideal model of one, looking like it had been patched together from the bodies of dead ponies and given life by a crazed unicorn in a lightning storm. All the monster needed was to stagger down the main street of Ponyville, chasing little fillies to gobble up, and it would fit the example of every monster Scootaloo had seen in films perfectly.

She was not going to volunteer to be the chased filly. Not even with a movie contract.

The problem with that theory was the book that had been sitting between Apple Bloom and the monster. Reading a book while curled up on the ground was most definitely not monster behavior. None of the stories she had ever read had a monster in them who tortured their victims by reading to them, although it did sound a little bit scary, in particular if there was a test at the end. Then again, monsters had to have something to do when they were not stumbling through town, groaning and stomping in pursuit of little foals to gobble up. Maybe they had their own towns, and sent their own children to creepy schools where they learned to be properly scary monsters⁽*⁾ too. She shuddered at the thought of big monsters giving homework to little monsters; it was bad enough when Miss Cheerilee gave out homework.
(*) Possibly a school for ghouls in a land of perpetual Nightmare Night.

Scootaloo thought on the dilemma. This was starting to suspiciously resemble a story problem, except school never was interesting enough to have a problem like this. She could picture Miss Cheerilee at the front of the classroom.

Class, we are going to have a pop quiz. While traveling through a forest that you were not supposed to be in, you discover a horrible, scary monster reading a book with one of your friends. Do you:
A) Run away, screaming.
B) Scream, and run away.
C) Run away without screaming, saving your strength for running.
D) Freeze in terror.

She knew either A or B was the correct answer, but she always guessed wrong on tests. With this test, she would not get her usual F or D, but an E.A.T.E.N.

Another thought sprang to mind: What if it was a cookbook?! The monster could have been sitting down with Apple Bloom, trying to figure out just how to properly cook her.

Or it could have been a puzzle book, and she was making Apple Bloom solve a puzzle before she was released.

Or it could have been an appointment book, if the monster was really busy and needed to find a place on its schedule. ‘Consume small filly. Monday, 3:15-4:20’

The second problem was Apple Bloom, who had been lying quietly next to the monster, looking in the book, which was the first problem. If the problems started to resemble the Commutative Property, she was going to scream.

But then again, the monster might explain Apple Bloom’s sudden scholastic talents. Maybe instead of being captured by the monster, maybe she had captured the monster and was forcing it to do her homework. The sheer brilliance of the idea blinded her momentarily, until a second blinding flash of inspiration hit.

She was keeping her captive homework-writing monster a secret from us!

This was the ultimate betrayal of friendship. No greater criminal conspiracy could be considered. There was only one thing to do. Only one pony she could trust with this earth-shattering news.

Scootaloo put her scooter down on the road and began to drive at a suicidal pace.





In the small clearing inside the Everfree Forest, there lay half of a picture book sliced in two as if by some impossibly sharp razor. And on the pages remaining, small drops of blood began to appear, ever so slowly.