or How Flutterbat Created a Superhero
Author's Note
Dear Readers,
I'm so, so sorry.
—NotARealPonydotcom
P.S. The above statement means that you're about to read (my attempt at) a troll-fic. Enjoy.
or How Flutterbat Created a Superhero
NotARealPonydotcom presents
Rise of the Batmare
A Parody
Fluttershy stepped into her bathroom and started running a bath. The soothing sound of raindrops against her cottage's roof eased her into a sense of serenity as she began her nightly bedtime routine. She wanted to enjoy this, especially after having spent the past few nights... well, not sleeping, apparently.
It was still remarkable to her that a mind-control spell had turned her into a vampire pony, or whatever it was she had been. She wasn't the expert on magic, but it didn't make sense that all it took was her stare to change the spell's original purpose and turn her into... that. Even with Twilight's helpful (and sometimes confusing) explanation of what had happened, she felt like something wasn't right. Her return to normalcy especially didn't make sense: how could taking a desire for fruit away change her from a bat-pony back into a regular one?
But, as Twilight had advised, she'd dismissed it, accepting that it was magic and that things didn't always make perfect sense when it was involved. Even if it wasn't a logical cure for her unorthodox condition, it had worked, and that was what was important.
Still, though, there was that nagging at the back of her head that something was wrong.
The pegasus stepped up to her sink and opened the mirror above it to reveal the cupboard in which she kept her toiletries. Taking her toothbrush in one wing and a bottle of toothpaste in the other, she popped the top of the tube off with a forehoof, squeezed out a drop of the blue paste, and went to scrubbing her pearly whites clean. She wanted no trace of apple in tem by the time she was done.
As she brushed, she glanced out the bathroom window and smiled up at the moon. Full tonight, the giant white orb seemed to smile back at her, and she found herself mesmerized by its enormity and brilliance. Luna's namesake hung in the sky and lit up the night, the clouds that had blocked it having passed on to their next location—Sweet Apple Acres, she'd guessed from her glance at the sky a while earlier. That was a shame, she thought, because she knew Applejack would love seeing a moon like this: full and round and shining, just like an
apple.
The thought popped into her head without warning, and spooked her so badly that her toothbrush fell from her wing. It clattered on the bathroom floor, making the timid mare jump back and gasp. She turned her gaze away from the moon and looked down at the brush, breathing heavily and shaking. She tried to pick the brush up, and after a few unsuccessful attempts she managed to get a grip on it again.
I'm exhausted, she told herself, moving back to the sink and mirror. I can't even brush my teeth properly
apple!
There it was again; a voice, one at the back of her head. It wasn't the one telling her that things didn't make sense, no; that one was silent now. This one was familiar, as though she'd just talked with it recently, and she had a feeling she knew exactly where they'd chatted: Sweet Apple Acres.
Shivering now, and feeling something a little bit like nausea, Fluttershy spat her toothpaste out and sucked some water from the tap into her mouth, first rinsing with it and then drinking in big, thirsty gulps. She felt parched all of a sudden, needed to drink something; but it wasn't water she needed, no, she needed
juice
something else, something maybe a big sweeter. Something like
juice!
tea. Yes, of course! She'd have a nice cup of jasmine before she turned in. Maybe she'd make it now, to enjoy with her bath, and if she was feeling a bit peckish, she could snack on some
apple!
forget-me-nots, those were always good with jasmine. With this plan cemented in her (tottering) mind, Fluttershy took one last gulp of water and brought her head up from the sink.
Her eyes weren't green anymore. They were red. Her jaw dropped open, and she saw she had fangs.
She had time to whimper, "Oh dear." Then her mind went blank. When she woke up in her bed the next morning, the only clue to remind her of her nightly outing would be a faint, familiar taste in her mouth and the flooded bathtub that would still be running as the sun rose.
It was raining at Sweet Apple Acres.
From within her family's barn, Applejack listened to the torrent pounding outside and sighed. She leaned back against the hay bales she was sitting on and looked out the window. She could barely see the orchard through the dark of the night; though it was a full moon, the rain clouds did a fine job of keeping the light from illuminating the outside world. This didn't trouble Applejack, though. She was not afraid of the dark.
The orange mare's eyes shifted to the apple in the center of the barn. It was her entry into the Appleloosa State Fair's produce competition. At least, it had been her entry—now it was beginning to rot, having been sliced open for nearly twenty-four hours. That, along with the bucking, bouncing, and rolling it took to move it out of the ever-growing storm, had turned it into a fruity punching bag worthy of nothing more than a pig's trough. Or a quick meal for a vampire fruit bat.
The irony, Applejack thought. She chuckled, then shivered. The past few days had not been the best for her: she was sleep-deprived from her night spent trying to solve her bat problem, angry about losing a piece of her orchard to the vermin, and slightly traumatized by her friend's horrifying transformation into a vampire fruit pony-bat-thing. It didn't help that a combination of rain water and apple juice had drenched her as she'd moved her former pride and joy safely into the barn. Add on the onset of having to explain to her family what had happened to their surefire award-winner and a night sleeping in the barn, and Applejack found that her mental stability was being pushed a little too far over the edge.
She was about to close her eyes and try to sleep when she heard the fluttering of wings.
No, Applejack thought. This can't be happening again.
Madly lucid, the farmer frantically looked left and right, trying to pinpoint what direction the bats were coming from. They surely had to be bats; what else could they be? Even after all they'd been through, they were still coming for her apples. She imagined her orchard out in the rain, festering with the vermin, being picked clean of their valuable stock.
"Ah won't let that happen," she said loudly.
She started to get up, then tumbled backwards. Her head had begun to spin. She was too tired to do anything, she realized; she was going to fail. She felt an enormous sadness build in her chest, and in defeat looked up at the skylight in the barn's roof. Though it was barely opened to keep rain from getting in, she could see a patch of the night sky through it, and that patch showed her rapidly moving clouds. They were retreating, sliding off towards the Everfree Forest, and when they pulled away, Applejack found herself staring at the two brightest stars in Luna's ever-expanding sky. She felt a tear well up in one eye.
"Ma... Pa..." she croaked, staring up at the side-by-side stars. "What am Ah gonna do?"
At first, there was no answer. Applejack became faintly aware that both the rain and the wings had stopped making noise. Then the stars winked at her.
CRASH!
Something had shattered the barn window. Applejack turned her head and stared at the creature that dove in and pounced on the once-glorious fruit in the center of the barn. It was a monster: half-pony, half-bat. Somewhere, in the part of her mind that was still logical, she realized that Flutterbat was back, that she'd need to get Twilight to do something again. But that part had been pushed firmly to the back of her head. Instead, the farmer smiled, and let the sound of fluttering wings absorb her. The scent of apples was everywhere now.
"That's it, Ma, Pa..." she whispered.
"I'll become a bat."
And so the Batmare, fighter for truth, justice, and the containment of fruit bats everywhere, came to be.
THE END
