The Death of Sweetie Derelle
Rarity's mane was a mess. Her hooves were dirty and her eyes
felt as if they would bug out of her head.
"Where…. Where could that fabric have gotten…?" She muttered to
herself, scouring her studio for any sign of the lovely white cloth she'd
ordered weeks ago. She was so busy, she hardly noticed her sister tiphoofing
behind her until she heard the clatter of a ponyquin falling to the ground.
She whipped her head around to find Sweetie Belle looking a bit sheepish,
carrying a bindle over her shoulder using her budding unicorn magic. She really
was growing up quickly now, Rarity realized, and was finally mastering the many
magical skills that she would use for the remainder of her life. "What is
in that bag, Sweetie?"
"Oh, uh, nothing!" Sweetie replied gingerly, shuffling her hooves a
bit. "Definitely not anything- Hey, no fair!!"
Rarities just rolled her eyes as she levitated the rudimentary bag and stick in
her direction and unrolled it, gasping loudly at the contents. Inside there was
what appeared to be a couple folded flick knives, along with some
poorly-stitched pure-white ski masks with clown faces crudely painted
on. "What is the meaning of this, Sweetie Belle?" She
asked a bit louder than she should have, turning an odd shade of red.
Sweetie floated over one of the masks and pulled it over her head. There was a
perfect little hole for her horn and everything. "We're cutie mark
crusader bank robbers!" Sweetie explained excitedly; tail rapidly
whooshing from one side to the other as she smiled innocently up at her big
sister. "Why so serious?" She growled, and her horn glowed as she
magicked the knife up to Rarity's face, flicking it out impressively. It was a
comb. "Wanna know how I got this cutie mark? Well my dad was a
drinker…"
Rarity huffed indignantly, quickly snatching the plastic blade from her sister
with a scowl. "Sweetie, that was all the white fabric I had, darling!! You
simply must ask me first before you do such foolish things! After all…"
She frowned and looked to the rolls of cloth, now pockmarked with uneven holes
and shear-cuts. "I really do have work to do, and if you want to someday run
Carousel Boutique, then you have to learn not to waste so much money… That
fabric doesn't grow on trees, you know."
Sweetie's eyes grew wide and filled with tears. "B-but Rarity…"
"No buts!" Rarity scolded, folding the bindle back up. "Now I'm
going to have to go out and buy more fabric… And Celestia knows the order's due
next week, of course. If I don't start it tonight, there's no way I'll have it
finished in time!"
Sweetie Belle stomped her stubby little hooves and whined. "Buuuuuttt
Rarrriittyyy!!!" She obviously had the whining gene in common with her
sister. "The cutie mark crusaders and…. My cutie mark… and our special
talents and… AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-"
Somewhere in the middle of her complaining, Sweetie Belle's appearance changed
to Rarity. Her head was gigantic; almost the size of the whole remainder of her
body, and her mouth took up the majority of her bulbous, oversized head. It was
opening and closing at regular intervals, but all Rarity could hear was a
constant, obnoxious, derailing noise. "Sweetie Belle!" She shouted,
but her sister would not stop. "Sweetie Belle!" She
screamed at the top of her lungs in an attempt to drown out the noise, but she
kept on babbling brainlessly, unblinking. Fabric and sewing patterns started to
circle the room as if a tornado was spawning, and everything was bathed in an
unholy glow.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA"
Rarity used her horn to levitate her sewing machine and hurled it with all her
strength at the demon pretending to be her sister. With a sickening crunch, she
saw its skull cave in, leaving a roughly pony-shaped thing motionless on the
floor. The noise was no more and Rarity found herself stomping and kicking on
the mockery of her beautiful Sweetie Belle with her forehooves. "Die!
Applebucking DIE!!!" She felt gore warm and red on her hooves as she
trotted back a few paces and speared the thing's chest on her horn, voice
ragged from screaming.
She grabbed the creature’s mane with her teeth and started
dragging it out of the boutique, out around back where she grabbed a shovel and
started hastily digging a grave. It’s tongue lolled out horribly and her eyes
reminded Rarity of a certain ditzy mailmare.
In her periphery, she saw a groggy, white and purple unicorn step outside,
following the trail of blood and start screaming. The real Sweetie Belle.
"Oh- uh… Darling…" Rarity quickly tried to compose herself, stomping
in attempt to dislodge one of the creature's eyeballs, the optic nerve of which
was wrapped about her leg. "Sweetie belle!"
The real Sweetie, of course, had a scream like a dog whistle, and would require
much more finesse to silence than a sewing machine to the noggin.
After a nice long bath and a bit of explanation about the origins and behavior
of doppelgangers, Sweetie finally found herself soothed as Rarity rinsed the
last of the blood-flecks from her mane. "You see Sweetie, sometimes there
are creatures that pretend they're ponies so they can hurt us… But I would
never hurt you, Sweetie." She nuzzled her sister's head fondly and she
squeaked happily. "In fact, I would count myself lucky. That creature's
hide should be just the right color…"
