Broken Broken Broken Broken Broken Broken Broken Broken Broken Record
The Ghost
Crash!
“AHAHAHA!” Vinyl Scratch screamed as she smashed her apartment door in. The wood shuddered as the hinges were strained, the sudden force taking the doorknob through the wall.
Vinyl stared at the hole she had just created in the wall, and laughed again. “Why do we use DOORKNOBS? We’ve got hooves, for fuck’s sake!” The unicorn stumbled in through her living room of her apartment, collapsing on her couch.
Laying there, hooves up in the air, Vinyl Scratch blinked each eyelid out of sync with the other. The contents of her stomach blended together, shivering and shaking in a brewing tidal wave. Slowly, she slipped off the side of her furniture, and dragged herself towards the little kitchenette her apartment housed.
“Ugh, I think I’m gonna be sick,” she muttered to herself, her speech tripping over itself as it ran from her mouth. “Better get something to settle my stomach...”
Standing up shakily, she slammed her body against a cabinet. Her magic spluttered for a few moments as she tried to focus on opening the wooden cabinet with her inebriated mind. The doors opened slowly and jerkily, and Vinyl slid a hoof into the cabinet, reaching around inside for whatever she could find.
Her hooves, which were not the best for grabbing things, knocked over a bottle inside the cupboard, and she watched listlessly as the alcohol rolled sideways out of shelf, where it fell to floor with a loud SMASH!
Vinyl scowled at the liquid as it ran across her floor, rivulets of precious vodka escaping from her. She backed up, and cringed as her hooves trampled pieces of glass. “D-dammit...”
The unicorn stumbled from her position in front of the cabinet, and wandered aimlessly around her apartment, shouting slurs unrecognizable to anyone but herself. Vinyl found half of these amusing, and the other half so appalling she could hardly believe she had said them, but her mouth ran on and on and on. Each time she pushed something out of her mouth, her head was refilled through her ears with the sound she was producing.
Sitting down on the floor, just feet from her turntables, which lay in a state of modest neglect, Vinyl squeezed her eyes shut tight and began to sob. “M-mother f-fuck... why does this keep happening to me?”
Flailing out a hoof and leg aimlessly, the DJ squirmed on the ground in perceived discomfort, unable to properly deal with the wash of emotion her drunken state had let loose.
Tears stained the white fur of Vinyl’s cheeks as she lay there, hopeless in her sorrowful state. Casting a glance through her misted glasses over at the turntables before her, she scowled.
“Stupid piece of garbage,” she muttered, shakily getting to her hooves once more, a slight pain running through her legs as the tender places the glass had sliced were irritated. “What have you done for me?”
She wobbled over to her machine, her instrument of choice. She looked down at the electrical and magical operative of the device, and slammed her hoof down hard on it. Vinyl winced as the contact with her machine made a loud metal sound, and sent a jolt of pain through her limb.
“Fuck you my music’s fake,” she rasped, another tear sliding down her face as she tipped from side to side on her hooves, trying to stay upright even though her ballance had long since been terminated by the many drinks she had consumed. “My music’s just as real as...” she hiccuped wetly, and fell down into the floor again.
“It is though, isn’t it?” she muttered to herself, glasses slightly askew. “I can listen to it, it’s real, it’s gotta be...”
She knew that wasn’t what they meant though. She, laying on the floor, was beginning to doubt her works. She, with the white coat and the electric blue and purple mane, could not play an instrument, no matter how hard she tried. She, the DJ, learned how to build tracks and musical algorithms with a machine.
Machines were real, weren’t they?
But they were artificial, and anything created by them only had the option of being artificial as well...
“I haven’t even made a song that wasn’t for attention since l-last year...” Vinyl shakily brought herself upright once more, and stared at her machine with complete contempt. “I fucking knew that you wouldn’t do a god damn thing for me...”
Vinyl took a shaky step forward towards the turntables. “The day I got you I... I thought I’d make the best music in the whole world...”
She was next to it, leaning on it for support. “I made my first mixes on you, and then my first record. I thought I was gonna be a f-fucking star...”
She lifted her front left hoof and set it down on the top, and then did the same with her front right hoof, and hugged her machine awkwardly. “They started playing it everywhere, and I thought it was gonna make me so happy...”
She rested her head on the surface. Her glasses slid from her muzzle, and her magic sparked instinctively to push them back into place. She groaned as she tried to keep herself steady on the machine.
“Oh, they played it and they played it... I got gigs beyond that little place that let anypony play on Saturdays... ponies knew who I was, and it was all I ever wanted...”
Vinyl smiled, her mouth opening slightly as she did so, her tongue falling over her lips. It was dry, it was so dry... “Thought it was supposed to make me happy, really.”
“B-but you know what?” she whispered to the inanimate object. “It fucking DIDN’T!”
Vinyl lifted herself up, then slammed her face down as hard as she could possibly muster into the front of her turntables. She winced as she felt her snout snap from being shoved down into the machine. Tears, both from pain and sadness, began to well fresh in her eyes.
“Didn’t fucking do ANYTHING!” Vinyl shouted, and slammed her face back down again. As she lifted it off again, she could see a splatter of blood on the turntables. Sure enough, not soon after, a warm trickle could be felt wandering down her face. It hit her upper lip, and curved in, and soon, her mouth was filled with the irony taste of her own blood.
Her tongue still felt dry.
“You know,” Vinyl said, slamming her face down again. “I— I used to think...”
WHAM!
“That ponies knowing who I was, that being recognized...”
WHAM!
“Was gon... gonna make me feel...”
WHAM!
“Better about everything, you know? Give me some sort of idea of direction!”
WHAM!
“And night after night, they try to say it’s alright, b-but whenever I get out of control, laying in bed afraid, or anxious, or angry...
WHAM!
“It’s there, whatever it is, hanging over me!”
Vinyl was panting heavily now, staring at the blood mark that was almost as large as her entire face imprinted on her turntables. Tiny droplets were beginning to drip down the side of the machine, and Vinyl could still feel it drip down her face, flowing over her lips, cascading down her chin, and splattering the floor below her. Her dizziness had increased to such levels that the unicorn was honestly surprised she was still standing.
“N-never...” she stammered, gripping into her turntables like a vice. “Never did drugs! No, not me, I was g-good... they always thought you had to be fucked up on hallucinogens and sterile sunshine to make club music, they said all sort of shit about me, but I never did it!”
Vinyl slammed her head against her turntables once more, and threw up. All of the alcohol, whatever she had for dinner, all came up and splattered the side of her machine, and it pooled near her hooves. Falling to the side, she slumped to the floor, unable to stand any longer.
Blinking rapidly as she lay on the ground, blood pouring from her nose, she lifted a hoof and wiped it away. This left a rather large red streak traveling from her hoof to a bit of a ways up her limb. Vinyl looked at it and giggled weakly.
“Oh dammit... that’s a lot of blood...” she muttered to herself, moaning slightly as the pain started to overtake her drunken state. “Ow... fuck...”
Vinyl ran her tongue over her teeth, and grinned. “H-hey, they’re all still here! Guess I got lucky...” Her body convulsed, and she vomited again, puke splattering her chest. “Ugh...”
Through the smell of blood in her nose, Vinyl detected the stench of burning ozone, which made her heart skip a beat. She glanced over wearily at the kitchenette, and her blood froze. There it was, the being that haunted her her nights of turmoil.
It was a pony— vaguely. It had the outline of a pony, but it was transparent and seemed to shift in and out of reality, a shadow on this realm of existence. Its body was made of static, and it had no features— it was blank.
It was a ghost, and it haunted Vinyl’s home.
Vinyl stared over at it. It always had shown up in her bedroom, hanging over her bed, leaving her unable to sleep, but never moving... how could it be here?
The DJ rolled over, and struggled to get to her hooves again. She failed at this, and fell against a chair sitting at the table just across from her.
“G-go away...” she muttered. She looked over at it, and her head slowly jerked back from side to side, as though it were stuck in a loop. “Go away away away away away away away away away away away away away away away away away away away...”
Snapping out of the loop, she blinked, and looked up at the ghost again. It had advanced towards her, and she gasped, choking on a bit of blood that still lingered in her mouth. How had it...
“What do you want?” she yelled at it. No response.
“Why do you show up whenever I’m...” she blinked, tears beginning to flow once more. “S-so vulnerable?”
No response.
“W-would it be too much to hope that if I ask nicely you’ll go away?”
The ghost stepped forward.
G-GO AWAY!” Vinyl shouted in desperation. As she opened her mouth to speak again, for the second time her head started to shake back and forth in the little loop she had been in only moment before. “Please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please...”
The ghost stopped, but it dropped its head down as it did so. If it had had eyes, Vinyl had no doubt that it would be looking directly at her.
Pulling herself up using the chair, she groaned as her head split open with the force of a thousand stars going out all at once inside her skull. “Oh dear sweet Celestia, oh why oh why oh why oh why oh why oh why oh why oh why oh why oh why oh why oh why oh why...”
She could smell the burning ozone scent getting stronger, and she stumbled backwards, falling off the chair, laying on her back. The ghost was still advancing, and the unicorn scooted backwards as it did so, hoping to do anything to escape.
“WHAT DO YOU WANT?” Vinyl’s voice was raw, and blood flew in little flecks from her lips. “TELL ME, YOU FUCKER!”
No response.
Vinyl was sobbing freely now, tears so powerful they almost washed away the blood staining her face. “Please just go go go go go go go go go go go go go go go go go go go go go go go go go go...”
Vinyl backed up against her turntables, and in her fear and rage and inebriation, an idea formed in her intoxicated mind. “Are you from here? Is this where you came from? You never showed up until I had these problems with my music!”
The ghost stopped, and cocked its head. Vinyl grinned manically.
“That’s what I thought thought thought thought thought thought thought thought thought thought thought thought thought thought thought thought thought thought thought thought thought thought thought thought thought!” She gasped as she pulled out of the loop, and stared down at the floor for a moment, and vomited for the third time that night.
She wasted no more time, and grabbed her turntable in an awkward sort of hugging movement, and then ripped it from its place against the wall. Jumping out the way, she watched as the source of her pride and pain fell to the floor, and with a deafening SMASH!, the machine lay on the ground, bits of it breaking off, and a large crack running through its metal casing.
Oh fuck, the neighbors are gonna kill me for this racket...
“THAT GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU YOU YOU YOU YOU YOU YOU YOU YOU YOU YOU YOU YOU YOU YOU YOU YOU YOU YOU YOU?” Vinyl shrieked, and she kicked a few records from their holding place on the fallen turntables, crushing them under hoof.
The ghost stayed still for a moment longer, then continued to get closer.
“NO!” Vinyl roared. “I DID WHAT YOU WANTED WANTED WANTED WANT— AH!”
The unicorn fell to her stomach, clutching her head in her hooves. “It hurt hurt hurts hurts hurts hurts hurts hurts hurts— NO!”
Vinyl thrust herself to her hooves again, and stumbled aimlessly past the table and chairs and fallen turntables, making drunk and wild movements towards her living room. The ghost followed shortly after.
“Leave me be be be be be be be be be be be be be be be be be be be be be be be be...” Vinyl pleaded. Her head dipped down, her mane messily flopping over her eyes, and her glasses slid to the floor.
“Do you want me to destroy everything that I ever was?” she yelled at the ghost. “Is that what you want?”
Vinyl waited as the ghost stopped, the only sounds breaking the silence being Vinyl’s heavy breathing and the roaring pounding of her own heart.
No response.
“FINE THEN!” Vinyl lifted a hoof, and stomped hard on her glasses. The tinted glass cracked under her heavy hoof, and she continued to stomp on them until the glass was nearly powder, and the frames were twisted remnants of what they once were. Blood dripped from her injured hoof as she looked up again, eyes searching for the ghost.
She made a strange noise between a screech and a smoker’s hack as she found the ghost to be just inches from her.
“T-tell me right n-now...” she blubbered. “W-what do you want want want want want want want want want want want want want want want want want WANT WANT WANT WANT WANT WANT WANT WANT?”
The ghost’s empty face, composed of static, did something truly horrifying. Right where a mouth would usually be stationed, a roughly circular, mostly jagged hole opened, a true darkness kept within. It let loose a scream that would revisit Vinyl in her nightmares for years to come.
Vinyl fell backwards into her back, cringing in terror. “No no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no...”
The ghost slowly stepped over her, blank face, now devoid of the hole once more, and “gazed” down at her.
“Please d-don’t don’t don’t don’t don’t don’t don’t don’t don’t don’t don’t don’t...”
The ghost lifted a hoof and slowly placed it on Vinyl Scratch's chest.
Author's Note
I have been in a state of complete disarray lately. I have been discontented with my writing, I have been angry with myself, and I've been doing shit in school. I have no fucking clue what's going on right now. I was recently blamed with one of my band mates trying to starve herself to death, so I suppose that didn't help.
This is the first story in months that I enjoyed writing.
I hope you enjoyed it too.
