Ah, you’ve arrived! Come in! Come in! Have a seat! Madame Pinkie has been expecting you.
You’re here to have your fortune told? No? Hoof read? No? Tarot cards? No?!
Ok, so Madame Pinkie can’t be right about every little thing. Lay off, it’s been a long day.
“I think they’re here for the story, Pinkie.”
Spike!? How’d you get into my tent?
“Uh, the flap?”
Hmmm. Note to self. Upgrade to a gypsy tent flap to actual wooden door.
“Pinkie?”
Oh, right. The story. Madame Pinkie’s Tales of the Macaber! Stories to chill your funny bone and make you shriek in terror and delight! You’re here for that, yes?
“Well it is the name of the show.”
Shh! Ahem! Our first story is truly a classic! Its-
“Hey, why’d you have to pull a book out? Aren’t you making this story up?”
This book is the framing device! It’s what makes Madame Pinkie’s Tales of the Macaber, TALES of the Macaber.
“And that’s another thing, I’m pretty sure it’s pronounced macabre.”
Madame Pinkie knows what she says!
“And what’s the point of referring to yourself in the third person? We’re the only ones here.”
I’m doing this for the audience!
“What audience? It’s just one guy. And he seems pretty unresponsive.”
HE, like the book, is a framing device. He represents the reader.
“So he can’t talk? Did he burn his tongue?”
No, but I’ll make sure you do if you don’t shut up in the next ten seconds!
“I’m a dragon, I don’t think I’m physically capable of burning my tongue.”
Then you better start wondering about how I’m gonna pull it off.
“… I’ll be good.”
Good. Now where was I?
“Uh, classic story?”
Oh yeah! This is a truly classic story. One of ponies and monsters. But the true worth of the tale does not lie in the horror, but in the question. Who is the monster and who is the mare?
Lyra Frankenstrings
It was a cold night on the northern seas. Stormy waves raked against the side of a ship, bound for the North Pole. Its captain, one Rainbow Walton, sat at his desk pouring over maps and sea charts. It was the middle of the night but Rainbow had yet to turn in. His technicolor hair sat like a mop on his head as he ran a hoof through to part it from his eyes. There was a knock at the cabin door.
“Captain,” a young seamare poked his head in. “Permission to enter?”
“Granted, sailor,” Rainbow replied. “What’s the problem?”
The young seamare rifled his hat in his hooves. “It appears we’ve taken on a stray.”
“A stray?”
“A mare! On the ice! It looks like she’s been travelling for weeks with a team of sled dogs.”
“Great galloping ghosts!”
“Hold on!”
What is it?
“’Great galloping ghosts’?”
It’s an expression.
“A really stupid expression. And why do you have Rainbow Dash in your story as a guy?”
There aren’t a lot of guys in MLP, okay? Plus the name just seems to fit since the actual character’s name is Robert Walton.
“Wait, actual character?”
GAAAAH! Stop making me destroy the fourth wall!
“Great galloping ghosts!”
Captain Rainbow stood up from his work and hurried out to the deck. A crowd of sailors stood crowded around an older mare with light bluish green fur and an even lighter mane. She wore a large coat that seemed to be absolutely soaked from the storm outside. Her eyes were closed in rest but she still shivered at the slightest breeze.
“What are you waiting for?” The captain bellowed. “Get her out of those soaking rags and grab some blankets. Stoke up the kettle and prepare something for her. She looks close to death!”
The crew moved quickly and soon the mare was wrapped in a warm blanket. They moved to bring her inside and something caught the captain’s eye. He could swear that a flash of lightning had revealed some monstrous creature skulking about in the ice. But as soon as he caught sight of it, it was gone.
The crew took the strange mare below deck and hung her coat to the side to dry. They even brought in a cot for her to sleep in. The captain knelt next to the strange mare and held a warm cup of soup to her lips. She took it graciously.
“Thank you,” the strange mare said before passing out once more.
Two weeks later…
“WAIT, WAIT, WAIT!”
What now!?
“Two weeks later?”
It’s not like we can have every detail! Otherwise this story would be as long as a real book.
“Okay, I understand that but it just seems so sudden.”
You know what else is sudden? You’re constant interruptions!
“Just trying to help.”
Two weeks later…
Captain Rainbow had finally pierced through the mare’s air of mystery. She had explained herself to be one Lyra Frankenstrings.
“Thank you, captain,” she said as the two sat down for tea. “You and you’re crew have been incredibly helpful to somepony you know nothing about.”
“You did come to us at a very strange time,” the captain replied. “Just what were you doing so far out on the ice in this God-forsaken part of the world.”
Lyra cringed. “My tale is a long and sad one, captain. I was a mare blinded by ambition. And in my singlemindedness I created something horrifying. I suppose my story begins with my family background…”
“Why does she need to start a story with a family tree? There’s supposed to be some kind of monster, right? Get to that stuff!”
It’s all meant to build up ambiance and relatability!
“Pffft! I thought this was supposed to a monster story.”
There is a monster. It’s just not here yet. We still have… *mumble* *mumble* twenty years of history to get through.
“Twenty years! Why would the story start with a completely random person and then switch to the main character’s narration?”
As I explained before, IT’S CALLED A FRAMING DEVICE!!!
“Just like us arguing is a framing device for this show?”
……….
Shut up.
“… So I grew up with my dear cousin and betrothed, Elizabon Lavenza, and my childhood friend Henry Sparkle. At an early age I became fascinated with the wonders of the natural world and discovered a book called Anthropology. It was a study of strange creatures thought fantasy, humans.
“At seventeen my mother died and in turn I went to study at Ingolstomp University. There I met a Professor Clop who readily denied the existence of humans, the creatures I had spent years studying. In my despondence I took a lesson in chemistry by one Professor Waldmare who reignited my passions for Anthropology.
“I threw myself headlong into my studies and eventually, finding no other option, I came to a conclusion. I must make human myself!”
There, all clipped up and watered down for ya. You happy now? I had all these great horse puns just ready to pull out and you just had to make me skip the buildup. Good job!
“Are you sure it’s not just because you wanted to skip ahead yourself to get to the good part?”
……….
Shut up!
Lyra circled the still figure beneath the sheet in front of her. She had set up shop in her apartment constructing pylons and devices that would aid in her creation. The perfect human. Lyra could not contain her excitement as she flipped the switch.
An open canopy above lit up as lightning came down and struck the pylons that would awaken her human. She watched with baited breath as the body beneath the sheets spasmed and seized as lightning ran through its core. Finally she flipped the switch once more.
The shaking stopped and Lyra ran to the operating table in the center of the room. She pressed her head against the sheet. One heartbeat. Two heartbeats. Three. It was steady.
“It’s alive!” she shouted to the heavens, them answering her call with thunderous applause and rain. “It’s alive!”
The side of the sheet lifted as a hand, an actual hand, tried to grasp at the white fabric that covered it.
“Yes, yes,” Lyra said enthusiastically. “Let me see your face!” She grabbed the sheet and pulled hard. The creature beneath it revealed to the world.
The face was squashed. No protrusion or snout. The ears were round and small, located on the side of its head. Moreover it was completely hairless, even the scalp. Scars and stitches stretched across the length of its body. Lyra winced for a brief moment at the sight.
“Okay, so you’re not the prettiest looking thing in the world,” she rolled her eyes to the side. “But your mine. Mine! All mine!”
“Mine!” the creature repeated. It stretched its new hands out and grabbed Lyra’s hoof.
“Hey,” Lyra shouted startled. “What are you doing?”
“Mine!” The creature’s face did not show hatred yet its grip tightened and began to hurt.
“Let go!” Lyra shouted as she struggled. “I said. Let. GO!”
With a surge of strength she pushed away from the creature and stumbled into her room, locking the door behind her. Lyra placed a hoof to her chest and began to breathe heavily. That had not gone as expected.
Later that night, as Lyra slept in here bed she dreamed of monsters. Beings of needle and thread, stitched together monstrosities that chased after her. Each one laying claim to a piece of her. Her eyes shot open and she stared into the eyes of the creature she had created. It gave her a dark sinister smile filled with a random assortment of teeth. “Mine,” was all it could say. Lyra screamed and ran from her room, from her apartment. She spent the rest of the night hiding in hollow tree in her courtyard.
That morning, Lyra tried to take her mind off the monstrosity in her home. She began with a walk through the pleasant village she had moved to. A familiar purple mane with pink streak caught her eye and waved her over.
“Sparkle,” Lyra said. “Is that you?”
“Lyra!” Sparkle replied. “I’m so glad I found you before I entered the university.”
“University? You’re going here?”
“Indeed, soon we’ll be going to Ingolstomp together!”
“Henry,” Lyra replied. “That’s great. Just great.”
“You don’t sound all too excited about it.”
“No, no. It’s just I didn’t get much sleep last night.”
“I’ll say. You’ve still got a bit of blood on you. Were you in a fight?”
“Oh, uh… No, nothing like that. This is… tomato juice.” She dabbed her hoof on her shirt and brought it to her mouth wincing as she took a taste. “Delicious…”
The two proceeded to Lyra’s apartment, the minty mare opening the door just a tad before welcoming her friend in. The monster was gone, not a trace of it left. However, Sparkle’s eyes fell on the equipment in the center of Lyra’s room.
“Just what is all this?” Sparkle asked.
“Oh, well, that’s perfectly reasonable,” Lyra stammered. “You see-“ Lyra cut herself off as she fell face first on the floor. Exhaustion finally taking hold.
When she opened her eyes again Lyra recoiled at the sight of another pair of eyes staring at her sleeping form. She let out a small shriek but was immediately calmed down a familiar friendly voice. Sparkle explained how she had fainted and had been in bed for close to ten days. During that time, Sparkle helped to clean up the equipment Lyra had left. Luckily her friend had no serious questions as to what the mare had been up to.
A letter had arrived during that time to which Sparkle presented to her. Lyra opened it urgently, as it was from her dear cousin, Elizabon. The letter expressed her deep regrets that Lyra was not present at home. Elizabon went on to say that in the wake of Lyra’s mother’s death, a mare named Derpine, friend of the family, had returned to the Frankenstrings estate. Her final words were a plea for Lyra to come visit when she could.
“She deeply misses you,” Sparkle stated. “At least, that’s what she told me when we last spoke.”
“I do miss Elizabon and father,” Lyra lamented. “How lonely he must be now that mother passed.”
“You should probably go visit at some point. I can’t imagine Elizabon handling your father for too long.”
“What? You think he’s become hard to handle in his old age?”
“No, I just think you’re dad’s a dick.”
The following days Lyra tried to introduce her dear friend to the sciences available at the prestigious Ingolstomp University. Sparkle did not particularly care for it, as his focus of study was primarily on that of oriental languages. It didn’t help the cause that Lyra began to grow terribly ill whenever she saw a beaker or Bunsen burner. Even discussions of anatomy and taxidermy with her favorite professors left the mare with sick stomach.
Finally, after finding the task of university too painful to endure, Lyra decided to return home. As a last activity the two friends would share they took a walk through the country, admiring the beauty of nature.
“What a splendid sight it all is,” Sparkle said. “Wouldn’t you agree?”
“Quite,” Lyra agreed. “It is all as God intended.”
“A master plan for us all you’d say?” Sparkle asked jokingly.
Lyra turned her head as they walked, troubled.
“You’re serious? You speaking about God? I always pegged you as the mare who wished to surpass the old philosophies.”
“Henry,” Lyra returned her troubled gaze to her friend. “Do you believe that mare can surpass God?”
“Perhaps it’s not for mares to say what God is capable of. After all, isn’t God just a fundamental factor of religious thought and moral standards?”
“Booooooring!”
Be quiet! This is a story filled with rich nuances and philosophical ideas.
“What happened to the monster?”
We’re getting to that! There’s a lot to get through.
“Sure you can’t just make this an adaptation of the movie?”
Which one? The Kenneth Branagh one or the one from 1931?
“Who’s Kenneth Branagh?”
…Moving on.
Upon returning to her apartment for what would probably be the last time, Lyra discovered a letter from her father. It explained how her brother had been murdered earlier that week in the woods around her family’s estate. Lyra returned home later that week, even later at night. The front gates to the estate having been locked hours ago. In a sad fugue, Lyra began to roam the hills around her family grounds, coincidently coming across the site where her brother was murdered. She decided to stay there and sleep for the night.
While trying to sleep, Lyra awoke to a rustling in the trees. “Who’s there?” she shouted.
A tall lanky figure crawled from the mist just far enough for Lyra to see but not close enough to catch. She drew in a sharp breath as she recognized the monstrous form.
“You beast! You monster! You did this! Why? Why do you torment me?”
The silhouetted creature tilted its head. “Ponies,” was all it could reply. As Lyra dashed forward to try to catch it, the creature turned and stalked away into the mist, disappearing from view.
Lyra did not sleep at all that night. When the morning came, she trudged back to her family estate and greeted her father and Elizabon. However, she learned that the family friend, Derpine had been arrested for the murder of her brother. A picture of their late mother belonging to her brother having been found in here pocket. Lyra struggled to dissuade the allegations.
“Derpine couldn’t have done it!” she exclaimed.
“Oh, come off it, son,” her father reacted. “It’s not like anyone liked the mare anyway.”
“Daughter, dad. I’m your daughter.”
“Not if you’re marrying your female cousin, you’re not.”
Elizabon gave her uncle a weary look and sighed.
“I know she’s innocent,” Lyra sighed exasperatedly. “I am not a mad mare. There is more to this than meets the eye!”
Lyra continued to plead her friend’s innocence into her arrest and into court, turned down at every turn. The mare slipped into despair when Derpine’s execution was set.
“Derpine,” Lyra pleaded to her friend through the prison bars. “Why did you admit to it? They had circumstantial evidence at best.”
“I’m sorry,” the gray mare replied. “I just don’t know what went wrong.”
Lyra cursed her mind for even conjuring the idea of the creature. A beast so heinous and deformed in mind and body that it had led to the deaths of two ponies close to her.
Lyra began to fall deeper into despair. Guilt and remorse haunted her every waking moment. Her father tried to cheer her up with a trip to the country, but it was a brief respite. In her grief, Lyra contemplated ending it all many times, but was thwarted by the sad thoughts of despair her father and Elizabon would go through. In her desperate attempt to find respite she climbed the nearest mountain, the cold impartial air somehow clearing her mind. However, as she descended she caught a figure in her sight. A tall grotesque figure that moved with incredibly unusual speed. Its face became clear and Lyra drew back a gasp.
“Stop hounding me, creature!” she cried through tears of anguish. She picked up a stone and threw it. “I reject you! Do you hear me? I am not your master, nor your maker! You are nothing but an abomination! A mistake by my hand and God’s!”
The creature protected itself from the projectile by holding its long fleshy limbs out above its head in a protective gesture. The rock bounced off the thick hide and rolled down the mountain. The creature lowered its arms and gazed at Lyra with unblinking unmatched eyes.
“Lyra Frankenstrings,” it said calmly, its voice low and strained. “Lemme speak.”
“You… you can talk? And you have an accent?” Lyra lowered her hoof, half raised to throw another rock.
“Many things happened since we met face to face.” The creature squatted on its hideous knees to face its creator eye to eye. “Come with me and I’ll tell ya of them.” The creature turned and began to trudge down the mountain, expecting Lyra to follow.
Lyra dropped her rock, cursing herself for doing something so foolish, and followed the creature. She followed the creature deep into the mountain where they rested in a cave of ice. The creature proceeded light a fire and the two sat down. The creature peering at her with sad mismatched eyes.
“Lemme tell you my tale,” the creature began.
On the night of my birth I was frightened but also happy. Ta feel for the first time. Ta smell. Ta see. Ta touch. Ah reached out to you and you were frightened. I didn’t know what fear was, but in my basest instincts I recognized you hated me. Or at least I would as I took off and began my journey.
The feelings I experienced pretty soon became harsh and unforgiving as I left your home. The wilderness offered no help. Biting cold creeped inta mah bones and hunger struck me like a rabid dog. Ah wandered long until I came across the lingerin’ ashes of a fire. It was there that I learned that fire hurt but also gave warmth.
“No kidding.”
Look, are you just going to be sarcastic through this entire thing?
“Depends. Is it actually going to get good?”
You don’t think the story of a mare cursed by her own creation and the journey that creation takes into murder and mayhem is cool?
“No, that sounds awesome! But it’s been like your reciting the book verbatim.”
Or just using the sparknotes.
“What was that?”
Nothing.
Ah wandered much longer in search of food. The villages and houses I came to all drove me away calling me, how’d you put it, a monster. Mah long journey brought me to the brink of starvation and so I tried to rest in a small hovel next to what I assumed was an abandoned cottage. Ah peered through a hole into the cottage and there I saw them. Three ponies, two young and one old. The big one, the stallion of the family, was red and spoke very little. Mostly agreein’ or disagreein’ with nods or “nopes.” The other younger was a mare with bright orange fur and golden mane. She spoke quite often and it allowed me to practice more words. The eldest was a green mare. She didn’t speak much since she could barely see.
“More gruel, big bro?” the orange mare asked.
“Nope,” the red stallion replied.
“I’ll take ya up on that offer!” the old green mare said.
“Y’know, for some reason, bein’ poor doesn’t seem like that much of a drawback considerin’. I mean we got family and food. That’s really all ya need.”
The red stallion cleared his throat, “Perhaps our acceptance of our un-fortuitous situation will inspire others to live their lives within a manageable means instead of indulging in riches and greed.”
Everyone at the table stared at him.
“I mean, yup.”
After a few weeks of watchin’ through the crack a new player entered the scene. A vibrant young filly with creamy fur and blood red mane. The cottage seemed to be overjoyed at her arrival. I too was excited, since the filly was still young and Apple, the orange mare, had begun to teach her herself.
“So that’s ‘A’ and this is ‘B,’” Apple said.
“Applejack, I know mah alphabet,” Bloomie replied. “Why do we have to go through all this?”
“Shh. Just stick to the story and we can get ice cream later.”
“Ooo.”
Within time, I learned enough language to know the names of my hosts. The older brother, Macintosh. The elder sister, Apple. The younger newly arrived sister, Bloomie. And the elder, De Granny. I took their story inta my heart and admired their courage through adversity. However, it was this admiration that drew me into greater despair. I’d seen my face in comparison to those in the cottage and I reviled it. Then I began to read and I found your notes in the pocket of the jacket I took the night of my birth. Ah read of your crimes against nature, Lyra Frankenstrings. And so I fell into deeper despair.
It was time to make a choice, either wallow in my existential abyss or try to make a friend. Mah moment came when Macintosh, Apple, and Bloomie were away. Ah hesitantly entered the cottage, wishing to speak to the only pony which might give me acceptance, the blind De Granny.
“Who’s there?” De Granny called into the darkened cottage.
“Please,” the creature begged. “Don’t be afraid. I mean no harm.”
“Yeah, well you’re still trespassin’. That’s a felony!”
“Ah know, but I just wanna speak.”
“Just how tall are you, boy? You sound like your ten feet tall?”
“Ah’m quite large.”
“Well, I suppose I can spare some time. What did you wish to speak about?”
“Ah’ve spent so much time alone,” the creature sighed. “All I want is a little pony kindness and warmth. If you would listen to my story, I would be grateful.”
De Granny furrowed her unblinking eyes. “You do sound downright sad. Must be one heck of a tale. Come over here and let me get a look at ya.” The old mare reached out her hooves toward the creatures face.
The creature stepped back in surprise. “I’m not a being that is worthy of being touched, much less seen. Trust me when I say that you would scream and run should you see my face.”
De Granny continued to hold out her hooves invitingly. “Boy, I ain’t been scared of no ugly pony yet.”
The creature lowered bent his knees and leaned closer so the old mare could feel his face. She placed her hooves over the grey hairless skin and winced.
“Hoo wee! You ain’t lyin’! You truly one ugly son a’ bitch! No offense.”
“None takin’. Ah know what I am.” The creature let out a sigh.
De Granny grinned. “But that don’t mean anything about the pony inside.”
“The pony inside?”
Suddenly the door swung open. There they all were. Apple, Macintosh, and Bloomie. Bloomie let out a shrill scream which Macintosh responded to by attacking me with his powerful hooves. De Granny was knocked from her chair and lay splayed on the ground grasping at the floor and pleading with her grandson not to hurt me. But nopony could hear over Bloomie’s screams. In my defense I ran from the cottage, chased and pursued by a pony who I had hoped to call a friend.
Run ragged and out of breath I fell to my cursed knees and swore to high heaven that I would exact my vengeance on my creator. The pony that made such a mistake as to bring a creature like me into this world.
Ah travelled for days towards where I assumed I’d find you, the place I’d been born. Along the way I rescued a small orange mare from drowning in a river. For my thanks I was chased and shot at.
“Damn I missed him!” the hunter chided himself.
“What the hell are you doing?” the drenched orange filly with purple mane shouted. “That guy just saved my life!”
“Yeah, but I’m a bit of a psychopath.”
In my pain and anger I slogged through the forests for miles on end. Then I came across a young colt, whose fur was the same color as the one who created me. In the darkness of the forest we talked, he unable to make out my face. Then he mentioned his brother in Ingolstomp. The brilliant student to become doctor, Lyra Frankenstrings!
“My brother is studying to become a doctor. And my brother is going to earn a hundred thousand a year. And my brother is getting an award. And everyone likes him. And- Gak!”
Ah lost control and throttled the pony by the throat. Ah looked into his eyes as the life drained from his body and heard his neck snap beneath these horrid hands. His body fell limply like a doll to the ground.
“Woah…”
I know right! And you said it wasn’t gonna get good.
“Maybe just a little more.”
Ah picked up a picture from his pocket and proceeded in the direction he’d come from. Findin’ a sleepin’ mare in a barn, I placed the picture in her pocket and hid. A few days later, you showed up. Just as I’d hoped.
The creature went silent, at the end of his tragic story. However Lyra showed no sympathy in her eyes.
“You know you sound a lot more eloquent then the ponies in your story,” she noted.
“You mock me, Frankenstrings!?” the creature bellowed and stood to its full height.
Lyra flinched and cowered near the wall of the cave. “What do you want of me, creature?”
“I wish for what all ponies want,” the creature waved a hand at the empty space beside him. “Companionship.”
“What?”
“Build me another monster. Another human,” the creature pleaded. “Lemme share my misery with another.”
“That’s insane!” Lyra shouted, her words reverberating in the cave. “Your creation led to the deaths of two ponies I loved and cherished. The creation of another would lead to even more.”
“Build me a companion,” the creature repeated with stern eyes and glare. “And I’ll leave with her. We’ll travel to the Southern continents and become lost in the jungles, never to be seen or bother anypony again.”
Lyra tried to rise but the creature grabbed her hoof with its vice like fingers. “Ah despise you, Frankenstrings,” it assured her. “Your experiments are nothing but an affront to order and decency. However, Ah recognize that you are my last hope. Do this for me and I’ll never haunt you again.”
Lyra tried to move but the creature was too strong. She sighed in defeat and despair. “Very well, I will build you a bride.”
“Wonderful!” the creature cried as it relinquished its grip to clap its hands. “But don’t try to trick me, Frankenstrings. You’ll not see me but I’ll be watching your every move. Only when this is over, well and truly over, will you be free.”
Lyra gulped as her heart sank in her chest.
As the days passed Lyra continued to grow more and more agitated. Her father took notice.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“It is nothing, father.”
“You know, there’s this really nice stallion down the street that I hear is actually into bicurious mares.”
“Ugh! Dad, I’m marrying Elizabon.”
“Well, why don’t you get on with it then!?”
Her father reluctantly agreed to let her travel yet again and Lyra left on a trip to the country. Along the way she passed a familiar face yet again who insisted on accompanying her.
“How fortuitous, Lyra. I was just thinking of you!”
“Ugh… Hi, Sparkle.”
“So where do you want to go first?”
“Gee, you want to come with? Funnnnnnn….”
The two travelled together a long time, but Lyra’s mind began to return to thoughts of the monster following her every move. Guilt raddled her head and she decided to ditch Henry.
“Hey, look over there.”
“Where?”
Sparkle returned his attention but the mare was gone.
“Damn it, like every time.”
Lyra ran until she found a deserted island a little off the coast. There, in an abandoned house, she continued the experiments she had sworn to never repeat. Many days passed and Lyra began to ponder about the implications of her devilish work.
“What if I make it and they have kids? Ugh, can you imagine babies walking around on two legs instead of four? That’s just unrealistic and weird.”
At that moment Lyra saw the face of the creature staring at her through the window. A large grotesque smile on its face and a thumbs up. In her moment of panic and regret, Lyra began to destroy the lab she had worked days to build. The creature rushed in and screamed for her to stop.
“You gave me your word!” the creature cried as it grasped her in its large hands.
“I’ve cursed this world enough with you. I will not be accomplice to your spawn!” She spat in its face, expecting the gruesome end that she deserved.
The creature lowered her to the ground and Lyra gave him a concerned glare.
“Mark my words, Frankenstrings. You’re sins will not be repaid just yet. I will see you on your wedding night.” And with that the creature disappeared into the night.
Tired and fearful, Lyra packed up her things and the remnants of her awful work and threw them into the ocean. As she approached the shore, she was greeted by a mob of villagers.
“Let me guess. You’re here not here to tell me I’m a lucky winner.”
“Nope.”
“Damn.”
Lyra was taken before a magistrate, accused of murder. The magistrate took him to see the body of a pony that had washed up along the shore late last night. Lyra faltered and stumbled back as she saw who it was.
“Henry!”
The purple pony lay lifeless in the sand, black hand marks around his neck.
“Now were not sure just what these marks are or how somepony like you could have made them,” the magistrate said. “But for the sake of the story were still going to throw you in jail.”
“Understood,” Lyra replied. “But do you mind if I faint first?”
“Please, go ahead.”
Lyra fainted.
She awoke later to find herself in a jail cell. The magistrate standing by. “You have a visitor.”
“Father!” Lyra shouted.
“Lyra,” her father replied. “It’s good that you are well.”
“Well, my friend died.”
“Right, right. But other than that, all good?”
“Sure…”
With no evidence to hold her, Lyra left with her father. The two headed home to the Frankenstrings estate. Elizabon happy, but weary to see her betrothed.
“You’re father tells me that you were ill again?” she asked.
“Well, I mean, I just fainted.”
“Yeah, but you seem to do that an awful lot. Are you seeing someone else?”
“How can I be seeing someone else? I’m barely able to see you.”
“Now that you mention it-“
“I mean, uh, you’re the only one I love, Elizabon.”
“So are you going to tell me what’s got you so upset?”
“In time. I have a dark secret that would destroy the mind of most mares. But I can only tell you when we are married.”
“Why wouldn’t I want to know something like that before we get married?”
“Are you asking as part of the story or seriously?”
“Both I guess.”
“You know it does seem a little weird, now that you mention it. But let’s just go along for now.”
“Fine.”
The marriage came and Lyra spent the entire time looking over her shoulder for the monster that had promised her vengeance. That night they retired to a small cottage on the family estate. Lyra took a little walk with her new wife.
“So you might want to go to bed soon,” she pleaded.
“Nuh uh. You promised me you’d talk about what’s going on.”
“I know, but things are about to get really hairy out here. I’d feel a lot better if I knew you were safer inside.”
“Guh! Fine!”
Elizabon trudged inside and Lyra waited outside the door. Suddenly a scream filled the night air and Lyra rushed inside, too late. Elizabon’s body lay motionless in their bed, her neck crushed.
“Well, duh, he was going to go after the love interest.”
Yeah, that part always confused me too. I mean, the symbolism is right there in front of her. She destroys the monster’s bride so he kills hers. It’s pretty straight forward.
“Hey, now you’re nitpicking this.”
I never said I nitpicking wasn’t aloud. Just not tolerated.
“Whatever.”
Filled with grief and despair. Lyra returned to her father to recount the gruesome news.
“So that’s why she’s dead,” Lyra concluded.
“You know,” Lyra’s father replied. “You have a lot of dead friends.”
“She was my wife, father.”
“Eh. Either way I’m starting to fear for my own life. I mean, who else is going to die around you?”
Lyra’s father died a few days later. “Oh, come on.” Recorded last words.
In Lyra’s despair and exhaustion she attempted to tell people of the danger that followed her, but none would believe her.
The policeman tapped a pen against his desk as Lyra tried to explain.
“So you’re telling me that this guy, that you made-“
“Right.”
“That you made, has been killing all your family and friends in an effort to make some grand act of vengeance upon you, his creator, for giving birth to such an abomination of God and science.”
“Well when you say it like that it sounds pretty silly.”
“Take a number and wait to be helped, ma’am.”
With no one on her side and no hope for peace, Lyra became determined to follow the creature until the day she died. Her one hope being to rid the world of such an abomination.
“And so now you know my tale, captain,” Lyra finished.
Rainbow sat back, taking in the words of the sickly mare. “That’s a pretty neat tale.”
“I know. But I have been on the trail of the creature for so long that my body has begun to fail me. I worry that I will soon be unable to fulfill my promise to all those that died. Please, when I am gone, you must kill the creature for me.”
“Woah, I mean, we’ve only known each other for a couple weeks now. I’m not sure we’re at the whole ‘take on my vendetta’ point of friendship.”
“Huh, you know when you put it like that, true. This does seem like a huge burden to put on someone you, like, just met.”
“Glad we’re in agreement.”
The following days, Rainbow’s men would plead with the captain to turn back for home. And the captain agreed. Lyra Frankenstrings died in her sleep a few days before the voyage home.
One night before they were bound to set sail, Rainbow passed the door to the room where they had stowed Lyra’s body. Cries were coming from below the door. Rainbow peeked in to enter and gasped at the sight before her. Hunched across the lifeless body of the aquamarine mare stood an imposing hairless figure covered with scars. Its ten fingered hands ran through its maker’s mane as it cried. The creature turned to notice the captain and stood to its full height, wiping the tears away.
“Since my birth I was left with no mentor to guide me,” it spoke. “No teacher to hold my hand through the hard decisions. I never meant to become a tool of evil. Never meant to be filled each day with such loathing and hate. In the end, both she and I were similar. Two beings searching for meaning in a world that seemed all too strange for dashing our hopes and dreams. I am ready to die, as she wished.”
The creature climbed out of the porthole and landed on the ice below. It made its way past the glaciers beyond Rainbow’s sight and disappeared into the frozen north.
“She was right,” Rainbow said as she scratched her mane. “That thing was pretty eloquent for such an accent.”
“…”
So what’d you think?
“… Are you asking me or the framing device?”
Ugh. You. It’s not like he can speak.
“Yeah, I mean, he’s just been kind of staring into the middle distance this whole time and it’s really creeping me out.”
Yeah… Y’know maybe I’ll get rid of him for next time and it can just be the two of us.
“Seriously? You want me on your show?”
Well, you seem to make a much better framing device than this guy. Plus, you’re a better conversationalist.
“Cool! So… what now?”
Well it’s over. The end.
“Oh, are we supposed to close it out with something?”
I guess so. What did you have in mind?
“Join us next time! Same Pony channel! Same Pony hour!”
Well that’s probably not true since the author has other stuff to get to, but-
“Come again?”
No, no. That’s great. We’ll go with that.
