The Tragic Event That Brought Forth More
Do you like Slice of Life stories that involve cuddles, and not a story about a pony being mentally and physically tortured? Then leave now, for there are no cuddles, no compassion---which means 'to care and love for one another'---and certainly no happy endings. If you wish to proceed reading such an awful tale, then be my guest. But be warned, for this tale will make you drown in tears. This horrid story starts off with an earthpony mare named Octavia Melody. She had a grey coat, a well kept dark mane, a treble clef cutiemark, and a pink bowtie wrapped around her furry neck. She looked about the friendly, happy town of Ponyville with relaxed, calming, violet eyes as she breathed the warm summer air. She was happy, and was excited about what was about to occur on that wonderful day. On her left hoof, she pulled a wheeled suit case, containing a cello made out of fine oak that was a gift from her relative, a professor.
She hummed a wonderful tune to herself, one unquestionably commonly sung among the ponies of Ponyville, and the reason why is yet another story to tell. Her calm, relaxed eyes was only like that for a second as she breathed the air, and returned back to as they originally were; focused. The reason why she was out and about in the first place was not for sun bathing, or for simply taking a walk. If so, then why drag a heavy cello in the first place? The motive---which means, 'the reason why she is doing this in the first place'---of her decision to take a stroll through town while carrying a large, wooden instrument is this; earlier that morning---right after she caught Ditzy Doo, the mail mare, well known for her love of muffins---Octavia made way to her mail box to see what mail she had that day. Of course, when checking the mail, one would always simply expect bills and things you are subscribed to, and she was no exception. So she was surprised when she saw something other than that.
It was a letter, an invitation from The Olaf Eye Music Studio, saying that their talent scouts---which means, 'a pony is paid to search for a talented pony by a richer one, so that rich pony can ask the talented one to perform for her'---had told them of a wonderful performance Octavia had performed recently at a small concert in her home town. As any artist who wants to be noticed would feel, Octavia sprang excitingly to her room and packed her cello and told her roommate, Vinyl Scratch, of her temporary departure. "Whatever" was Vinyl's response, which here means 'I am simply not bothered by this, for I am tired and want to get some sleep, so you may go now so I can slumber'. It was a brilliantly exciting day for Octavia, and she thought that the day couldn't possibly go wrong... and I sincerely wish I could say that that was indeed true. She found her way to the address that the letter had foretold where the rented stage would be, and she took a deep breath before she made her presence known.
There were three judges, each with a blazer with a grey eye stamped on each side, which clearly showed that they were The Olaf Eye's judges. Two of them had a bowtie, one had a knot tie. The first was an earthpony, the second was a unicorn, and the third was a pegasus. Two of them were stallions, and the one in the centre was a mare. The combination of the three descriptions that makes the three ponies is not important, and the only reason you are being told of that day is because this scene is. As one should expect from audition judges, they looked at her with impatient and, for lack of a better tern, judging eyes. One levitated a clip board, the two others just bent their heads down to write with their mouths, but with their uncomfortably strict eyes still looking at Octavia, making her incredibly nervous. 'It's all right,' she thought to herself, 'they invited me in the first place, I'm sure I can stand a chance' Octavia forced a smile as she headed to the stage, showing confidence to her judges.
When auditioning, you can not show any emotion, except for the kind they desire. If you were to audition to a musical, then you must show energy. If you were to audition for a hoofball team, then you must show strength. If you were to audition for a music studio, then you must show composer, and that Octavia did.
"Are the judges ready?" she asked once when she prepared herself. They all nodded, and she cleared her throat. "Good. Good morning, judges. My name is Octavia Melody, and I just have to say that I am honored to be invited into such a wonderful, large studio that would only ask the best of musicians, and I hope that I will not disappoint and waste your time." the judges all wrote something down, and Octavia resisted the urge to show how off eased she felt about that. People writing notes about you is a scary thing, is it not? "Ever since I was a small foal, I had been fascinated by the classical music that my mother always played on record, and I one day asked if I could learn such a beautiful art. Out of all the things I failed and gave up in life, music has had me the most determined; always willing to sacrifice a whole day and night just to practice. I had always knew that I was growing in talent, but never have I known that I was going to be noticed by such a huge cooperation."
More notes where written, and she could tell by their lack of effort to hide it that their patience was running short. Sweat started to run down her brow. "So... without further ado, I shall give you my most favorite piece, Moonlight Sonata, played in C Minor." she was wise to cut to the chase---which means, 'skip all the meaning and depth, and just give the people what they want'---and immediately she started to play. A pianist, who was hired to play the piano for the other half of the duet, started the first few notes, and soon Octavia followed. The piano's tempo was a bit too rushed, but was only played for support of the song. The real focus was on Octavia and her cello, and when she played, the already haunting melody became all the more grim; so dark, that one of the judges had to fight the urge to cry, which is not a professional thing to do. For Octavia, the world faded away, along with all her worries. This is something that 'normal' ponies fail to understand, for they prefer love and medicine to bring them into such a state; a state of pure bliss and a complete exodus from sorrow.
But for creative artists, such as Octavia, a creative is brought into a realm of relief when doing what they are passionate of. A sketch artist feels relaxed as she guides her pencil across the paper, completely able to ignore the cramp and strain when doing such a feat for far to long. A cook would close her eyes, and imagine a swirl of colours as she smelled and tasted her dish. A writer would feel like she is not herself, but the pony or whatever creature or thing it was that she was writing about. A musician? A musician can feel the melody like a sixth sense, like a flow of a river, like gliding in the calm skies. Octavia could feel motion, yet she stood on her hind hooves with her cello, barely ever stepping a foot. She felt like she wasn't on the ground, but was floating, flowing like water through a stream as she swerved to the calming melody; pond after pond she flowed through, with the destination seemingly nonexistent. As sad as it was, the journey of standing in one spot and playing in instrument did have an end, but she was use to this enough to not morn over it.
She opened her eyes, and saw the judges looked at her with a raised, slightly shocked eyebrow, a much better sign than a look of disgust. They finished writing their last notes, then dismissed her. Octavia attempted to ask for her results, but the judges forbid it, for their main boss must be the first one to read them before anypony else could, including the mare in question. As she walked back, her mind filled with paranoia, wondering rather or not her performance was good enough. Maybe they didn't want to tell her that they hated her so she won't be upset, and the reason they didn't want to show her yet was so they could disuse how to let her down gently? As non-logical as it was, her paranoia and fear consumed her the whole time, taking away her enjoyment of the warm, warm sun. As soon as she made it to her home, she decided to practice for the rest of the day to ease her worries. Her roommate was still on the couch, even know it was twelve in the afternoon.
It was late at night when she finished her soothing practice, and was more than tired enough to make it to bed. But, as hasty as she wanted to be (like me) she instead checked the calendar, as she had done every day and night so she would never forget a thing. And, but of course, it paid off. Her book, The Mare In the Meadows, was something she borrowed from the Golden Oaks library, and the day after was it's due. She already foresaw it that morning, but instantly forgot about it in her excitement over the invitation. Again, it always pays off to double check. Despite her desire to collapse upon her soft bed, she knew that if she didn't renew tonight, then she must pay a small fee and feel the slight shame of her laziness to return it the night before. The library closes at nine, and it was 8:40, giving her precisely twenty minutes to return the book. So, she grabbed a blue scarf and almost trotted out the door. Almost because she felt the need to notify Vinyl of her quick little trip. Quite frankly, she wasn't anywhere in sight. When she checked the couch, though, she saw a brief note.
going to party, see you later
Vinyl Scratch
"You could of took the time to write that more formally, or at least start the letter with a capitalized 'G'..." Octavia said aloud to herself with a sigh. "I have got to talk to Vinyl about this. This partying isn't good for her! I swear to Celestia, it will kill her one day, with all the drinking and such." once when she put a pin in it---which means, 'to deal and discus with later'---she then was free to dash her way to the library before it was too late. Of course, the librarian, Twilight Sparkle, had once read The Mare in the Meadows, so the subject of that started a long conversation that lasted until closing time. With the large amount of time spent, she was truly eager to return home, and would practically die on her bed from exhaustion. If you wish not to find out how serious I was with that statement, then please leave this fanfiction now and find yourself a new one; one without death, and with a jolly good happy ending. If you are still reading, then I feel so sorry for you. Continuing, Octavia found herself shocked with the sight before her.
With the lights off, Vinyl Scratch, quite obviously not in her sober state---which means, 'one who has a clear mind'---laid upon a couch in a stallions arms, with a muffled sound. Octavia immediately looked away, and said, "I'm not looking, I'm not looking, I'm not looking," over and over again as she speed trotted her way to her room as swiftly as she could. With the door closed and shut, Octavia took a calming sigh of relief. Now she knew she really had to have a talk with her. Luckily, the two ponies were extremely quiet, so she found it easy to ignore for now. You are probably thinking, 'why not stop it now?' well, because it would be rather rude to interrupt something private, and would make it far harder to reason with her. So, with Octavia's drowsy mind officially granted permission to take over, Octavia slumped onto her bed and fell asleep before she even sled her way under the covers. The next thing she knew, she was sitting in a small rock island, in the middle of a large, high current ocean. Golden carp fishes jumped up and down into the ocean, and some even continued to fly as it sprouted white wings.
But, to her surprise, she found herself tied to a chain. The rock she laid on was light grey, and the chain a darker grey, while the world around her was colourful. It was a small, unlocked chain, so she simply removed it. But, like when one cuts off the head of a hydra, two chains wrapped around her hooves. She tried to remove them, but they appeared to be locked this time. With full strength from pure will power, Octavia broke those chains, only to have four stronger chains tie her up. Each time it took a longer to take care of, with the number and strength of the chains doubling, tripling, and quintupling by each attempt. Soon, all the colour she could see around her was covered by the chains that wrapped around her head, along with everything else. Octavia soon became a cocoon of chains, unable to see anything but darkness. After she broke just one chain, the amount of those chains multiplied by itself, and the sheer amount crushed her. Octavia snapped awake, and breathed heavily from what she had envisioned.
After a small moment to fully process what happened, she eventually dragged herself out of bed for breakfast. As she approached the living room, she found a lacking of a certain blue, punked maned, white coated mare. She immediately knew why. She turned, and headed for the couch. Just as she thought, she found Vinyl Scratch on the couch, alone this time. "Vinyl!" she yelled. She waited for a response, but got nothing. "Vinyl, wake up already! It's 12:00, and no pony should ever be asleep in this hour! The reason I slept late was because I was far too exhausted to set an alarm clock, but at least I woke up anyway!" Silence. "Vinyl, are you even listening?" Nothing. "Vinyl, wake up!" Not a single sound. Octavia groaned, and patted her friend to wake her. There still wasn't any movement. Octavia looked more closely, and saw that Vinyl's chest didn't move at all. "Vinyl...?" she asked. She pressed her ear against Vinyl's heart, and heard not a single beat. "Vinyl!" Octavia exclaimed.
"Please, stop holding your breath, this isn't funny!" still nothing. A pony could only hold her breath for so long, so as time went on, it seemed less and less likely that it was a prank. I know what you are thinking, and I am sad to say that you are right; Vinyl Scratch is dead. How and why, you may ask? Well, I'll tell you; because Octavia didn't pay close attention at the scene before her last night, she didn't notice that the stallion was actually holding Vinyl still with three hooves, and chocking and blocking her mouth both at once, keeping her from calling for help. As I had stated, there are no cuddles in this awful story. Further more, Octavia never questioned, until now, was why she heard a muffled sound, and not a moaning sound. If you had noticed that, then I believe you are quite observant, but you are reading a story with describes these things and not trying your best to ignore a scene, so Octavia's ignorance wasn't not for not being clever, but for not being observant. Upon realizing this, she knew what must of happened. She ran her way to the police to report the murder.
