> Aftermath > by TheTobacconist > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Chapter 1 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- It's in my apartment. Why is it in my apartment? Did it follow me? Why can no pony else see it? No, they think it's all in my head. But it's grabbed me before, it's hurt me before. Does it want to hurt me now? I can't tell. It just sits there in the corner, watching me, waiting for me to try to escape. That's what it does, it keeps me prisoner. I can't break eye contact with it. I have to watch it constantly. It moves when you can't see it. It clanks around at night. But in the day? It watches. It watches me and my roommate, and it waits. "Tavi?" Vinyl Scratch entered the living room. "What's wrong? What are you looking at?" "It moves," Octavia explained, refusing to break eye contact with the empty corner. "But only when you can't see it. That's when it moves." "When what moves?" Vinyl adjusted her shades. "Clank," Octavia answered. "Tavi, look at me. There's nothing there." Vinyl embraced her. "It's only me and you in here. Nopony else. That corner is empty, there's nothing there." Octavia looked back at the corner. "It's not there," She said flatly. "I know." Vinyl smiled. "It must have moved," Octavia screamed, "It moves, it moves, clank clank clankclank." "Tavi? Calm down," Vinyl requested, "Did you take your medicine today?" "Medicine, no. No," Octavia muttered, "I can't take the medicine. If I take the medicine, then I can't see it. And that means it could be anywhere." "It's not real," Vinyl insisted, "Sit down." She led Octavia over to the loveseat, and guided her into a seated position. "I'm going to get you some water," Vinyl explained, "Do you know where you left your medicine?" "No, don't remember." Octavia leaned back. "I can't take it. I can't see it if I take it." Vinyl walked into the kitchen, and rummaged through the cabinets. She finally found an orange translucent bottle, and shook out two pills. She filled a chipped mug with water. A crash echoed, and the shattering of glass resounded throughout the apartment. She flung the mug into the sink, and galloped into the living room. Octavia struggled on the floor, her back positioned above their shattered glass coffee table. "It's here, it's here, it's -" Vinyl waited in the hospital, seated on a double stuffed wingback chair in a tiny waiting room. She pulled loose threads from a tear in the cushion, and frowned. "Excuse me?" Fancy Pants entered. "I just got the news from a colleague of mine. Is Miss Octavia alright?" "She'll be ok," Vinyl muttered, "Just some minor lacerations on her back, and front hooves. They were able to take care of it with some dermabond. Y'know, the super glue like stuff? The doctors are talking to her to make sure it wasn't a domestic dispute." "May I ask what happened?" Fancy sat down in a stool across from her. "No," Vinyl sobbed. "That's alright then," Fancy relented, "Are you alright?" "I guess," Vinyl slumped in her chair, "This is just all my fault. If I had just bought a ticket, then I wouldn't have sat beside Blueblood. I wouldn't have drawn his attention to her." "You mustn't blame yourself for this," Fancy insisted, "The fault is Blueblood's, and I'm doing my best to ensure that the rest of his life will be in prison." "Is that why you're here?" Vinyl asked. "Is this about the trial?" "I do want to speak to Miss Octavia on the matter," Fancy admitted, "But not here. This would be a most inappropriate place for it." "We'll have to meet sometime then." Vinyl tore a page from a magazine. "But not at my apartment. I don't give out our address anymore." "That's understandable." Fancy pulled a fountain pen from his breast pocket. "What would you say to that quaint cafe on Cherry Street?" "We can't afford to eat out, right now," Vinyl admitted, "Octavia's medicine costs a lot, and now I have this E.R. bill to pay, and the rents due in a week." "How much?" Fancy pulled out a checkbook. "I'm sorry?" Vinyl looked at him. "How much is your rent?" Fancy clarified. "I can't let you do that, Fancy," Vinyl refused, "I don't know when we could pay you back." "It's not a loan, I give gifts, not loans," Fancy insisted, "Now how much is your rent?" "Nine-hundred," Vinyl confided. "Alright." Fancy scribbled on the check, and tore it out of the book. "I have some litigation in the works. The idea is to auction off all of Blueblood's assets, and have the proceeds go to the families of the... of those who had suffered because of him. This should be enough to last you until the litigation is finalized." "Th- thank you." Vinyl accepted the check. "So, where did you want to meet again?" A Day Latte was as fine as a cafe could be without becoming gaudy. It was perhaps the first fancy cafe in which Octavia and Vinyl both felt comfortable in. Fancy Pants smiled, being able to pick a locale that didn't offend any guests' sensibilities was the mark of a good host. "How are you, Miss Octavia?" Fancy Pants slid into his chair. Showing up late was not normal for him, but in this case he understood that allowing his guests time to talk alone was important. It was another mark of a good host. "I- I'm fine." Octavia rubbed her bandaged forelegs. "The doctors have switched my medicines around, and it seems to be helping." "Wonderful." Fancy Pants waved Fleur de Lis over. It would not have been appropriate for him to meet two young mares by himself. He wouldn't allow rumors to spread about his guests, another mark of a thoughtful host. "And you, Miss Scratch? "I'm doing alright," Vinyl said cheerfully. Fleur stepped over to Octavia, and hugged her, kissing both sides of her face. She then embraced Vinyl, kissing both sides of her face. Vinyl blushed. "That's just how Fleur greets ponies, I assure you," Fancy Pants stifled a laugh. Laughing at another's discomfort was not the mark of a good host. "Oh," Octavia then kissed both of Fleur's cheeks. Vinyl frowned. "Please, have a seat my dear." Fancy Pants gestured to a stool beside him. "Now, Miss Octavia, I wanted to make a request-" "I'll do it," Octavia interrupted, "You wish for me to speak at the trial, correct?" "Yes," Fancy Pants admitted, "But only if you are comfortable with it." "I'll never be comfortable with that monster," Octavia admitted, "But, I understand that none of the other musicians wish to speak either. A conviction will be much easier if at least one of us speaks." "That's quite noble of you," Fancy approved, "Miss Scratch, would you be willing to speak as well?" "Yes," Octavia fumed. Vinyl nodded. "Very well." Fancy nodded, "I don't recommend any sandwiches from here, but the pastries are quite nice." Vinyl Scratch took the witness stand. Blueblood glared at her from his table in the courtroom. Vinyl returned his glare. "State your name and occupation, please," The prosecutor requested. "Vinyl Scratch," She answered, "I'm a freelancing DJ." "How do you know the defendant?" The prosecutor asked. "I didn't know him until three months ago. I had wanted to attend the symphony, to watch Octavia play. But I couldn't get a ticket in time. Fancy Pants and I met outside of the concert hall, and he offered to let me sit in the founder's box." "Please continue." "I met Blueblood there. He seemed alright at the time. I pointed out Octavia to him, and told him about how happy she was to be playing for the Grand Canterlot Symphony. I mentioned that we were looking for a new apartment, and he told me that a friend of his was a realtor. He asked for our address, and I gave it to him." "What happened when you got home that night?" "Octavia got home just a little after I did. I wanted to go to a bar, but she just said that she was going to bed. I went out, she stayed in. When I got home, our apartment was trashed, and Octavia wasn't there." "Thank you Miss Scratch, you may now step down from the witness stand," The Judge concluded. Octavia was on the stand next. Blueblood smiled at her. "Octavia," She stated her name as requested. "Can you tell us about the event that occurred three months ago?" The prosecutor asked. "Yes," She began, "I was playing at the Symph-" Blueblood tapped his hoof on the desk. Octavia was silent. "Please, continue." The prosecutor urged. "I was playing at the symphony," She continued, "It was my first real job in quite a while, and I was ecstatic about it. But I was quite tired when I got home. Vinyl tried to get me to go out with her for the night, but , again, I was quite tired. Shortly after she left for the bar-" Blueblood tapped his hoof on the desk again. Octavia's mouth snapped shut. "Objection, your honor," The prosecutor steamed, "The defendant is badgering the witness." "I can't do this," Octavia stated, "I'm sorry, I can't." "Tavi?" Vinyl knocked on the door to her room, "Are you alright?" There was silence. Vinyl opened the door, and saw Octavia sitting on her bed, rolling a candle around in her hooves. "Hi," Octavia said weakly. "Hey." Vinyl sat down beside her. "Do you want to talk about it?" I am terrified. I know that it isn't real now, but it's still in the corner. It can clank away all it wants, but that doesn't make it any more real. I'm not scared of it now, because I saw a real monster today, I don't think that something hallucinatory can ever terrify me again. But that monster? The demon with the fancy lapels? He is terrifying. Oh, my friend is here. I'm lucky to have her, she's put up with so much of my ridiculousness. I don't know what I would do without her. "No, I don't want to talk about it." Octavia set the candle down. "But I need to."