Chapter 1 - Their Last Real Gig
Scootaloo, Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom sat in their clubhouse playing a song with their instruments. The song had been written just a few hours earlier by Sweetie Belle and while Sweetie clearly enjoyed playing it, Apple Bloom looked less content and Scootaloo was downright annoyed.
Sweetie Belle was playing rhythm guitar and singing, Apple Bloom was playing lead guitar and Scootaloo was on the drums.
Suddenly, Scootaloo unexpectedly broke out into a loud, fast drum solo.
“Scootaloo, what are you doing?!” Sweetie Belle demanded as she swung around to face her.
“Spicing up this song a bit” Scootaloo grinned. “It’s way too slow and quiet”.
“Well, that’s the way songs should be played” Sweetie Belle responded. “We don’t want to make our listeners go deaf”.
“Or ourselves, for that matter” added Apple Bloom. “But Scootaloo has a point. This song you wrote is a bit too slow-paced, Sweetie Belle”.
Sweetie Belle looked slightly offended.
“I wrote this song so it would have enough vigour, but not too much vigour”.
“Well your vigour measuring cup must be broken” Scootaloo grinned.
“I have a brain to do that, not a vigour measuring cup. Those don’t even exist, you idiot” Sweetie Belle retorted.
Scootaloo shrugged.
“Different name, same level of brokenness” Scootaloo said casually.
“This is me giving a fuck” Sweetie Belle responded.
She started playing her guitar as Scootaloo started talking to her.
“We need to play heavier, grungier, louder music, or we’ll bore our listeners to deaf!” Scootaloo demanded.
Sweetie Belle continued playing, completely ignoring Scootaloo.
“Sweetie Belle, your soft rock style of music sucks” Scootaloo said matter-of-factly, and speaking a lot louder.
Sweetie Belle noticed Scootaloo was speaking louder, so in response she started playing louder.
“Hey, are you even listening to me?!” Scootaloo screeched.
Apple Bloom looked concerned.
“Calm down, everypony” she said.
Applejack suddenly strolled in through the open doorway.
“Would you gals mind turning them instruments down a bit?” she asked.
Sweetie Belle stopped playing
“Sorry” Sweetie Belle said sheepishly.
“Don’t worry about it. But you know, you gals are pretty good. ‘Cept for that racket just then…Anyway, you should go out n’ play a gig somewhere”.
“We’ve already thought about that” Apple Bloom nodded. “But we can’t get a gig anywhere”.
Applejack thought for a moment, then looked like she’d had a brainwave.
“Well shucks, gals, I just remembered something. My friend owns a bar downtown and I owe him a favor. He needs someone to play some music down there this Thursday, so how would you girls feel about that?”
“Cutie Mark Crusader huddle” Apple Bloom said.
The three fillies huddled together.
“What do you think?” Apple Bloom asked the other two.
“I say we do it” Sweetie Belle smiled.
“I don’t know. Sounds like a crappy first gig…” Scootaloo said skeptically.
Apple Bloom shrugged.
“We’ve gotta start somewhere”.
“I don’t know. I just think we’d look kinda lame, playing in the middle of a bar”.
“Yeah, but we need to get our name out there somehow, don’t you think?” Sweetie Belle told her.
Scootaloo sighed.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right…alright, let’s do it”.
“So that’s a yes?” Applejack smiled.
The trio turned back to face Applejack.
“It sure is” Apple Bloom smiled.
Applejack grinned from ear to ear.
“Great, Now I won’t be able to make it there to see you, but let me know how it goes” she smiled.
The following Thursday night, about 7pm…
“Come on girls, let’s hurry” Apple Bloom said excitedly.
“Yeah, we’re coming. Do you know how hard it is to carry all these drums” Scootaloo grunted as she carried her drums on her back.
Sweetie Belle ambled down the road in between them, carrying her guitar and microphone over her back.
“I think we should play the song I wrote last week, ‘Mareway to Heaven’” Sweetie Belle suggested.
Scootaloo gagged.
“That song is way too slow. Come on, we don’t wanna put everypony in the bar to sleep. I say we play my song, ‘Soaring Over the Sea of Blood’”.
Sweetie Belle looked a bit disturbed.
“I only had to hear 30 seconds of you playing that to know that it’s going to scare away everypony in the bar” Sweetie Belle said.
“No it won’t. I played it for Rainbow Dash yesterday on my drums yesterday, and she said it sounded awesome” Scootaloo said proudly.
“Well I played ‘Mareway to Heaven’ to Rarity yesterday, and she said it sounded absolutely divine, word for word”.
“What about my song, ‘Sweet Child O’ Mane’?” Apple Bloom suggested.
“That song’s a bit too loud for me” Sweetie Belle said.
“I thought that song was pretty good, but at the same time it’s not thrashy enough. We need to play more thrash metal, more screamo” Scootaloo said.
“Definitely not” Sweetie Belle said, shaking her head.
“Oh, for Celestias sake. Sweetie Belle, why can’t you be cool for once?” Scootaloo grunted.
“I don’t want to scream into my brand new microphone and risk breaking it. And I don’t wanna scare everypony away”.
“Look, what if we play all 3?” Apple Bloom suggested. “We’ll play Sweetie Belles soft rock first, then we’ll play my normal rock second, and Scootaloos thrash metal and screamo can go last”.
“Last? Really?” Scootaloo said, curling up her nose in disgust.
“It means you get the finale. And besides, Sweeties Belles soft rock might appeal to some of the bar-goers. My rock’ll make ‘em wanna stay, then your thrash metal will either make them leave or stay and headbang. And if they leave, well fuck ‘em”.
“What makes you think they’d leave?” Scootaloo asked skeptically.
“Well, do you really think anypony’s going to want to hear you screaming your lungs out into a microphone while we play music that’s over 1 million decibels?”
“No, but I have rhythm. I don’t just play randomly; I do play specific notes. I just play them really fast, as opposed to you to who play a lot slower” Scootaloo said in defence.
“Well, I think Apple Blooms idea is good” Sweetie Belle said.
“Thank you” Apple Bloom smiled.
After another few minutes of walking, the 3 fillies arrived at the bar. There were about 30 ponies inside, all drinking. It didn’t take the trio long to find Raymond, who was the bar owner and a friend of Applejacks.
“Just set up on the stage up there” he said, pointing to a stage in the corner.
“When should we start playing?” Scootaloo asked.
“Whenever you’re ready” Raymond smiled. “And by the way, I know a bar probably isn’t the best environment for 3 young fillies. But most of the ponies here are good people so you’ll be ok”.
The trio climbed up onto the stage and got their respective instruments ready. A pony who worked in the bar came up on stage.
“Attention everypony, we’ve finally gotten a band in here. Hope you enjoy it” he said, before stepping off of the stage.
There was a small applause as Sweetie Belle stepped up to her microphone stand.
“Hellooooooooo Ponyville!” she screeched into it.
Almost nopony bothered looking. But nonetheless, Sweetie Belle started playing a melodic scale before playing a riff from her song ‘Manelight Sonata’.
Apple Bloom played a quiescent, palm-muted chorus in the background while Scootaloo gently played the drums, looking like she was bored.
A few ponies started looking over, but mostly because they thought the trio looked kind of cute with their instruments.
Next, they played Apple Blooms’ ‘2 Minutes to Marenight’. This got the attention of a few more ponies, who seemed to enjoy the surprising sense of melody the band had, as well as Sweetie Belles ability to play a wide range of guitar soloes across varying styles of music.
When they finished, they received a small cheer and an applause.
“What’s your band called?” somepony called out.
The 3 fillies looked shocked. None of them had thought of a band-name. They all huddled together to discuss it.
“We should just call ourselves the Cutie Mark Crusaders” Sweetie Belle said.
“Nah, that’s the name we’ve always gone by. What about something more creative, like Maregadeth, or Iron Mareden?” Apple Bloom suggested.
“What about #66B032 Day?” Scootaloo grinned.
“Nah, none of the readers of this fan-fic will get the reference, until they go to Google” Apple Bloom.
“Alright, what about Marester of Puppets?” Scootaloo suggested.
“I think most of the readers will know that’s a play on words on a song, not a band” Apple Bloom said, putting her hoof to her face.
“What about Maretallica?” Sweetie Belle suggested.
“Good idea, little mare” Apple Bloom grinned, intending that to rhyme.
They let each other go and Sweetie Belle went back to her microphone.
“We are…Maretallica!” she said into it.
Everypony in the audience started murmuring, then a few ponies applauded.
“Alright, it’s my turn” Scootaloo grinned.
She started playing a furious drum solo. Sweetie Belle felt anxious, feeling that it would drive the whole crowd away, but surprisingly only nopony left. The crowd seemed to like the fast paced drum playing.
Apple Bloom matched it with a grungy, palm-muted riff, while Sweetie Belle reluctantly started playing a rock solo.
The crowd enjoyed it, and Scootaloo relished the moment.
They played a mixture of their three styles of music for about two hours, gradually feeling more and more excited. But as the night grew nearer, the ponies in the crowd started to change, and became nastier.
After a short break, they went back up on stage. It was about 9:15pm, but they still wanted to keep playing. They all felt pumped up, but agreed they’d go home at 9:30.
“One, two, three, four” Scootaloo shouted.
The three of them all started playing. But they all forgot the plan this time and inevitably all started playing the style of music they preferred.
Scootaloo began playing an incredibly fast and heavy drum solo, while Apple Bloom played a relatively fast-paced guitar riff and Sweetie Belle quietly and softly strummed her guitar. Saying they had rhythm would be as wrong as saying Pinkie Pie needs to be more active.
“The hell is this?!” somepony shouted out.
A few ponies booed, but the trio shrugged it off and continued playing.
“When I was a filly…” Sweetie Belle sang into her microphone.
“You still are!” somepony rudely shouted out.
“I was always so silly. But then I met a nice stallion…and love is what I then fell in”.
Sweetie Belle was singing a love song she’d written a few weeks earlier, but the crowd didn’t seem to enjoy it.
Somepony threw a half eaten hotdog at the stage, almost hitting Apple Bloom.
“I had that feeling for so long…it always felt like it was so wrong…but when I saw him in the night…after that it all just seemed so right…” Sweetie Belle quietly sang.
The booing grew louder, and a few ponies even started emulating the pony who threw a hotdog on the stage by throwing whatever they could get their hooves on. And unfortunately, the bar served most of their drinks in glass bottles.
Scootaloo dived under her drum set as a barrage of glass beer bottles were thrown at her, but she was too late. One hit her in the head and she almost went unconscious as the glass smashed over her face.
Sweetie Belle backed off of the stage and jumped outside as beer bottles were thrown at her. A wooden chair just about hit her as she went through the door at the back of the stage.
Apple Bloom dropped her guitar and raced to Scootaloos aid. She pulled Scootaloos limp body out from behind the drum set, and as soon as everyone could see that she was almost unconscious, a lot of them cruelly laughed.
“You’re all heartless bastards!” Apple Bloom screamed at the crowd of drunks, struggling to prevent a flood of tears from escaping her eyes.
A table got thrown onto the stage as Apple Bloom dragged Scootaloo out through the same door Sweetie Belle backed out of. Sweetie Belle stood just on the other side of it, in a dark alleyway.
“Those gutless assholes! Throwing beer bottles at fillies!” Sweetie Belle shouted.
“What happened…?” Scootaloo said weakly.
Blood dripped down her face, staining her pure, orange fur and softly dripping down onto the concrete beneath her.
“I think Scootaloo might have a concussion” Apple Bloom said anxiously. “You take her to the hospital, and I’ll go back in and grab our equipment”.
Sweetie Belle nodded and put Scootaloo over her back before setting off towards the hospital.
Apple Bloom took a deep breath, then walked back into the bar. Fortunately, almost everypony had calmed down, but there were still a few people yelling. Apple Bloom started grabbing the bands equipment, when suddenly a young stallion approached her.
“Here, let me help you” he said warmly.
He grabbed Scootaloos drum set and Sweeties Belles’ guitar and put them over his back, then beckoned Apple Bloom to follow him. He walked out of the doorway Apple Bloom had just walked in through, as Apple Bloom her guitar and Sweetie Belles’ microphone on her back.
He led her to his cart and loaded them into the back of it.
“Thank you so much” Apple Bloom said gratefully.
“Don’t mention it. Now hop in and I’ll drop you home” he said.
She climbed into his cart as he began pulling it along.
“Actually, can you take me to the hospital instead? I wanna meet my friends there” Apple Bloom said nervously.
“Sure” the stallion said. “By the way, my name’s Bert”.
“Nice to meet you, Bert. I’m Apple Bloom” Apple Bloom smiled.
Bert began walking quicker.
“So, I suppose your parents never told you the number one rule with strangers” he grinned slyly.
“What do you mean?” Apple Bloom asked, feeling confused.
Meanwhile…
Sweetie Belle jogged to the hospital with Scootaloo over her back. Scootaloo was getting blood all over her mane, but she didn’t care. She just wanted her friend to get fixed up, even if she did get on her nerves sometimes.
She reached the hospital eventually and raced in through the doorway.
“My friend needs help!” she said anxiously as she ran to the reception desk.
The receptionist nodded and two ponies came out and put Scootaloo on a gurney before taking her into one of the emergency rooms.
Sweetie Belle followed them, but felt squeamish when she saw a nurse take a pair of tweezers and start pulling shards of glass out of Scootaloos face. The nurse then injected local anesthesia into Scootaloos cheek, before stitching up her wounds.
Sweetie Belle sat nearby feeling sorry for Scootaloo.
“Right, she should be ok now” the nurse explained.
Sweetie Belle awoke from her daydream.
“Sorry, what?” she asked.
“Your friend. She’ll be ok now” the nurse repeated. “I’ve put over 20 stitches in her face and she has a minor concussion so we’ll keep her here overnight, but other than that she’ll be fine. Now, how did this happen?”
“Well, you see, we were playing music on a stage in a bar…” Sweetie Belle began.
“In a bar?” the nurse asked skeptically.
“My friends’ older sister said her friend, who was the bar owner, needed somepony to play music there. And my friends and I needed a gig. So, we decided to play there”.
“Ok, so what happened next?”
“We played on stage and at first everypony was really nice, but as the hours went by, everypony got more and more drunk. We decided to play a few more songs because we felt pumped up, but then they started booing us. We carried on playing, then they bottled us! So the three of us left”.
The nurse nodded.
“Where’s your third friend?”
“She went back in to grab our instruments and take them home while I took Scootaloo here”.
“Was there nopony who could help you? Not even to take you here?”
Sweetie Belle shook her head uncertainly.
“I didn’t wanna go back in. I think Apple Bloom was pretty brave for doing that”.
“Who do you live with?” the nurse asked.
“My older sister, Rarity”.
“I’ll ring her and explain to her what’s happened”.
The nurse left the room as Sweetie Belle approached Scootaloo, who lay on a hospital bed.
“Hey” Sweetie Belle half-smiled. “You ok?”
“What happened at the bar?” Scootaloo asked.
“We got bottled and you got hit in the head” Sweetie Belle explained.
Scootaloo looked puzzled.
“Really…? Oh wait, I think I remember”.
Sweetie Belle sat on the edge of the bed.
“I never expected anything like that to happen” Sweetie Belle sighed.
After about fifteen minutes, Rarity suddenly raced into the room.
“Sweetie Belle, are you ok?!” she screeched with tears in her eyes.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Scootaloo’s the one who needs help”.
Rarity looked over at Scootaloos limp body and looked disturbed at all the bandages across her face.
“Oh my Celestia!” she gasped. “How is she?”
“She’s stable” a nurse explained while walking in. “But she’ll need to stay overnight because she has a minor concussion”.
Rarity nodded sadly.
“Why were you girls playing at a bar?” Rarity asked Sweetie Belle as the nurse tended to Scootaloo.
“Applejack told us that her friend who owned the bar needed a band to play there and nopony else would do it, so we did” Sweetie Belle explained. “Everypony was nice at first, but then they got drunk and nasty. They just bottled us completely out of nowhere”.
Rarity looked deeply shocked.
“Typical Applejack” she tutted. “Sending fillies to a bar to play music”.
“It was ok” Sweetie Belle said defensively. “I mean, almost everypony in Ponyville is really nice”.
“Yes, except the uncouth ones who get drunk at bars and hurl bottles at fillies” Rarity responded.
She turned to the nurse, who was asking Scootaloo how her vision was.
“Would it be better if we left?” Rarity asked her.
“Yeah, it’d probably best if this little filly got some rest. No sleep, of course. But she does need to rest”.
Rarity nodded.
“Let’s go home, Sweetie Belle. We’ll come back and visit Scootaloo in the morning”.
Rarity walked out of the doorway. Sweetie Belle reluctantly followed her.
She remembered how she’d been so enthusiastic to do the gig at the bar, and how Scootaloo decided against it. If she hadn’t resisted, Scootaloo wouldn’t have been hospitalized that night.
Sweetie Belle felt like all the terrible events that night were all her fault. Tears dripped from her eyes and stained her pure white fur as she followed Rarity out of the hospital. The guilt she felt was like a swirling torrent of misery and despair, eradicating every positive emotion throughout Sweetie Belles mind, leaving only anguish and depression. The anxiety she felt was like an unrelenting storm of pain that nopony should have to endure. The mixture of anxiety and depression coursed through her veins and constricted her body like an anaconda.
It made her feel so small. So weak. So feeble. Knowing that it was her fault this had happened to her friend was a thought she could not rid. She couldn’t run from these feelings, nor could she hide. All she could do was cry, which she already was. All through that night, her eyes burst like a dam every time she imagined Scootaloo lying in hospital. Her sheets became soaked with her tears when she came to the realization that when her stitches were removed, she’d be left with multiple scars all across her face. And it was her fault. If she hadn’t been so enthusiastic and sidled with Scootaloos prior view on the gig, this could have been avoided.
However, I the author, can say that Apple Bloom had the worst ordeal that night out of the 3 fillies.
Back with Apple Bloom…
“So, your parents never told you the number one rule with strangers?”
“Um, I don’t know?” Apple Bloom said, feeling increasingly confused.
“Doesn’t matter” he said dismissively. “It’s just an interesting thing. Apple Bloom, I saw your performance at the bar. You played expertly and looked beautiful with your guitar”.
“Uhh, thank you Bert” Apple Bloom smiled awkwardly.
Bert licked his lips.
“Apple Bloom…would it matter if you arrived home a few minutes later than planned? I just realised there’s something wrong with my cart. Could you help me with it?”
“Oh. Sure” Apple Bloom said.
“Can you check if there’s a toolbox in the back there?”
Apple Bloom looked around her, then spotted a small toolbox under a pile of junk.
“Yeah, it’s right here” she answered.
“Great” Bert said.
He took a deep breath, then did something unexpected. He suddenly ran off of the side of the road down a bank. Apple Bloom screamed as the cart skidded down the side of it. Bert however, looked calm.
When it stopped skidding, Apple Bloom was terrified and disturbed. Bert climbed into the back of the cart next to Apple Bloom and grabbed her.
“I lied” were his first words. “My cart is fine. But thanks for reminding me that my toolbox was there”.
Apple Bloom was confused and shocked, but couldn’t speak.
“What did I first ask you?” he said.
She was in shock and didn’t say a word.
“What’s the number one rule with strangers?”
Apple Bloom still couldn’t bring forth any words.
“Never get in a cart with one” he said angrily.
His mood suddenly changed.
“You beautiful, little filly”.
The events that followed were something Apple Bloom would never forget. Bert grabbed her mane and forced her to bend over the back seat before sticking his penis up her flank. She screeched loudly, but Bert grabbed a power-drill and put it to her head.
“Scream and this’ll go right through your head” he said.
She grunted in pain as he raped her vigorously. After a few minutes, he spun her around and rammed his penis right down her throat, almost breaking her jaw with how forcefully he did it. Tears streamed out of her eyes, but he grabbed a pair of pliers.
With them, he grabbed her clitoris and squeezed it tightly, before jerking it down and ripping it slightly. Despite having a penis in her mouth, Apple Bloom still managed a quiet scream; the kind of scream that unmistakably said she was in excruciating pain. But it wasn’t over.
He ripped off her entire clitoris and shoved it up her flank. Apple Blooms’ eyes widened as she screamed in pain.
“You like that?” Bert grinned nastily.
More tears streamed out of Apple Blooms’ eyes. Bert took his penis out and then did something even sicker. He put the end of the power-drill to her head, then put his flank over her mouth and started defecating.
His feces landed in her mouth, but before she could spit them out he made an angry remark.
“Swallow, bitch!” he yelled in her face.
She didn’t know what to do, so Bert pressed the trigger on the power-drill and put it directly next to her head.
She reluctantly swallowed his feces, and the remains dripped from her lips as she started to gag. She puked all over the back of the cart.
“Lick it up!” Bert demanded.
Apple Bloom started panicking, but very reluctantly did what he said, knowing she could very easily die. She got down and licked it up while Bert repeatedly smacked his penis against her head and face.
When she’d licked up most of it, he grabbed her again and started raping her vagina as hard as he could. His face went red as he pulled his head back and went as hard as he could, and he inevitably ripped her hymen to pieces with his penis.
He took a saw and, while he still had his penis in her, cut off her nipples and forced her to eat them.
He then carried on raping her, occasionally switching to raping her flank. In the end, he got down and drank the blood that dribbled from Apple Blooms’ devastated vulva and vagina, and from where her clitoris used to be.
He urinated all over her face, then ejaculated in her flank.
“Get the fuck out of my cart, you little whore” he said acidly.
Bert shoved her out of his cart and began pulling it back up the bank. Apple Bloom sat down and did nothing but cry. For three hours.
She felt horrified and disturbed, as well as physically sick.
The wind whistled through the trees around her as she nursed her wounds and vomited and coughed a few times. She couldn’t get her head around what had just happened. How could somepony do that?
She stood up and walked past some trees onto a big rock. She looked down over the side of it. It was a 400 metre drop into the ocean, dotted with sharp rocks.
I think you can guess what she did.