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                      Music of Sorrow                      
                    -by Sword Feather-                     
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                         Chapter 1                         
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Chapter 1
Almost reluctantly, Scratch turned her loud dubstep music down. The crowd had mostly cleared off the dance floor, and though she had tried to prolong her beautiful music for as long as she could, she had to let Octavia take over.  
Vinyl Scratch joined several ponies at a table as the sweet, soft notes of Octavia’s cello began to waft through the air. Personally, though Scratch knew that she should appreciate the classical music, she didn’t much like it.  
“Man, you did a great show,” one of the ponies at her table said to Scratch.  
“Thanks,” Scratch replied, taking off her magenta-tinted glasses. Octavia continued to play, her eyes closed as the gray pony played her prized instrument.  
“Wish it could have lasted longer, though,” another pony at the table added. “Say, you and Octavia are room-mates, right? Since she came to Ponyville for the concert next week?”  
“Yep,” Scratch said. She had invited the classy gray pony to stay with her while she was in Ponyville. She knew Octavia because she had reluctantly joined their table in the V.I.P. section of the Grand Galloping Gala.  
“So, you like her music?” the other pony said.  
“I’m not much into classical, but she’s got talent,” Scratch admitted. “Though, I can’t believe she’d choose to play an instrument that’s nearly bigger than her.”  
The other ponies snickered, and Scratch joined in. She glanced at Octavia. The pony was still in her musical trance, gently swaying to the music.  
Eventually the song ended, and as the ponies left the dance floor Scratch joined Octavia.  
“Great performance,” Scratch congratulated Octavia.  
“Thanks,” Octavia said with a small smile. “You didn’t do so bad yourself.”  
The two ponies left the room and began to walk home. It was night, and as Octavia lugged her cello on her back, Scratch felt a bit rude since she had only her glasses to carry.  
“Er…need any help?” Scratch asked her friend.  
“I’m fine, thanks,” Octavia said.  
Reaching Scratch’s small house, Scratch held the door open for Octavia. Octavia set her cello down and turned to Scratch.  
“You can go on to bed, I’ve got a few things to do,” she said.  
Scratch nodded, and walked up the stairs. She crashed down onto her bed, and, tired from the late-night performance, fell asleep quickly.  
She awoke to her head being banged against something hard. She realized that she couldn’t see anything at all, and it felt like she was being dragged along.  
“Hey, what gives?!” she shouted, trying to sit up. She appeared to be in some sort of sack, and the thing dragging her remained silent.  
She tried in vain to escape, but she couldn’t twist around in the small space. Sighing, she glared at the darkness.  
Suddenly the dragging stopped. Faint light poured in, and she was yanked out of the bag.  
“Hey!” she shouted as she was thrown to the ground. She raised her head and looked around.  
The pony that had taken her from the sack was a dark-colored stallion in a butler’s uniform. He glared down at Scratch silently as she continued to examine the room.  
The room was huge, and a long table sat in the center of it. Huge fireplaces with crackling flames lined the walls, and the carpet was a rich red color. Silver plates and crystal-clear wineglasses covered the table.  
Ponies sat at the table. Scratch didn’t recognize them, but as she cautiously moved forward she realized that, at the head of the candle-lit table, was Octavia.  
“Octavia!” she exclaimed, and began to run towards her friend.  
Octavia, who had been sitting silently with her eyes shut, opened her eyes and looked at Scratch. Then she clapped her hooves once and said, “Take a seat.”  
Hooves grasped her, and she was dragged forward and thrown into a chair. Before she could react, heavy chains were tied around her so that she couldn’t escape.  
“So good of you to join us,” Octavia said.  
Scratch looked around. There were other ponies seated at the table. They were chained as well, and looked at Scratch fearfully. Some of them, Scratch noticed, were quite thin, as though they had been here a while.  
Octavia stood up and climbed from her chair to the table. She began to walk slowly down the table, stepping over the elegant silver dishes and slender wineglasses.  
“Welcome,” Octavia said. “I have waited a long time to host this…event.”  
One of the ponies let out a scream, but the butler who had stood silently at the side of the room rushed forward with lightning speed and slapped a piece of duct tape over the pony’s mouth.  
“You must have many questions, so I will try to explain quickly. We are in the dining room of my mansion in Canterlot. ‘Tis a place few ponies will ever see, and you should count yourselves lucky.”  
“What’s with the chains?” Scratch shouted at Octavia.  
The butler rushed forward, but Octavia raised a hoof. “Stand down. The guest of honor is not to be harmed.”  
The butler retreated into the shadows again. Octavia stepped forward so that she was right in front of Vinyl Scratch.  
“’Guest of honor?’” Scratch demanded.  
“Of course. I couldn’t hold a party without my dearest, most wonderful friend in the world.” Octavia’s eye narrowed. “Do you want to know why I invited you?”  
“Yeah, I would like to know,” Scratch snarled. Why was Octavia behaving this way? This wasn’t the quiet, shy, well-behaved pony she knew.  
Octavia’s gaze hardened. “You laughed at my cello.”  
Scratch was taken aback. “What?”  
“Earlier this evening, I heard you and the other ponies laughing at my music, at my precious cello. I heard what you said, you can’t deny it.” Octavia pointed a hoof at Scratch accusingly.  
“I wasn’t laughing at you or your cello, I was—”  
Octavia slammed her hoof down. It landed on a wineglass, which shattered, sending glass shards everywhere. “You liar! I know what you did! You’ll regret the day you ever laughed at my cello. Forever.”  
Scratch blinked as Octavia stalked away. She hadn’t meant to be rude when she had laughed. Octavia was a talented pony, but Scratch just didn’t much like the classical music as much as her dubstep…  
Octavia leaped off the table and brought out her cello. A wicked grin played across her face. She brought out her bow and placed it on the strings of her cello.  
Instead of the beautiful, soothing notes that usually came from the instrument, a terrible screeching sound met Scratch’s ears. It sounded as though the cello were screaming. Scratch tried to cover her ears, which were already pressed back against her head, but they were stopped by the heavy chains. The screeching was so loud that she couldn’t hear herself screaming.  
It seemed to go on for ages, but finally, finally the horrific noise stopped. Scratch sat, shivering, in the chair for a few moments before she was able to raise her head to look around.  
Most of the ponies were now covered in blood that flowed from their ears. Their heads were slumped forward, and Scratch realized with a shock that they were dead.  
Something warm and sticky flowing down the side of Scratch’s head alerted her that she was, as well, bleeding. She tilted her head so that the blood wouldn’t flow into her eyes, and felt it dripping down onto the rest of her body.  
The few other ponies who seemed to have survived were gazing around the room with glazed eyes. Suddenly, one of them began screaming, a shrill, continuous shriek that went on and on. The sound make Scratch’s damaged ears sting.  
Octavia smiled. To herself, she murmured, “Cello with changeling hairs. Never lets an audience down.”  
The screaming pony stopped, and Scratch opened her eyes as the throbbing in her ears subsided. The butler was standing over the screaming pony, whose head was now cocked at an odd, unnatural angle. Scratch felt sick. The butler had broken the pony’s neck.  
“Thank you, Butler,” Octavia said. “Continue with the others, if you would, but leave Scratch.”  
Scratch shut her eyes, but she could still hear the crack, crack as the butler killed off the remaining ponies by breaking their necks.  
After a few moments of silence, Scratch cracked an eye open. Octavia was standing on the table once more, right in front of Scratch.  
“Scratch, Scratch, my dear old friend,” Octavia chided. “So you survived my music. It must be due to the fact that you spend all day listening to that sickening, screechy dubstep music. Well, no longer. I almost regret having to do this to you…” She pulled out the bow she had been playing the cello with. Scratch realized the tip was sharpened to a point.  
Octavia brought the bow down. It seemed to come at Scratch in slow-motion. But at the last second Scratch managed to shift her shoulder to where the bow sliced through the chains, and cut her shoulder.  
Scratch recoiled from the sharp blade digging into her shoulder and scrambled from the chair, now that the chains were broken. The butler moved forward, but Octavia screamed, “No! She’s mine!”  
Scratch pelted through the large, open doors, her injured shoulder burning and ears continuing to bleed. She could barely see anything in the dark mansion, and her hearing was failing as well. She began to race through the halls and rooms at random, and heard the hooves of Octavia behind her.  
Scratch risked a look behind her. Octavia was running with the bow in her mouth at full speed, leaping over objects, or sometimes even running through them. Scratch pressed herself to go faster.  
She burst into a room, and wildly looked around for an escape. But the room was empty except for a grand piano.  
Scratch leaped onto the piano as Octavia skidded into the room. Her violet eyes were wild, and they focused on Scratch.  
As Octavia leaped towards Scratch, Scratch’s horn began to glow with a gentle blue light. Octavia was suddenly jerked back. Scratch had managed to slam the lid of the piano down on Octavia’s tail. But the effort had left her breathless, and as she panted and loped towards the door she heard a ripping noise as Octavia tore herself free, leaving half of her tail in the piano.  
Octavia tackled Scratch, pushing her to the floor. Scratch desperately tried to use a spell to defend herself, but her strength was failing, and besides, she wasn’t gifted with much magic anyway.  
Octavia plunged her sharpened bow down, but Scratch’s horn flared to life. It caught the bow before it could hurt her, and she flicked her head to the side, knocking off Octavia’s aim. Several more times Scratch blocked Octavia’s attempts to stab her, but then, as Octavia slammed the bow into her horn, the spell failed and intense pain ripped through Scratch’s head.  
She heard a clatter as the broken shard of her horn landed on the floor beside her. Octavia smiled wickedly.  
“Anything else you’d like to say to me before I kill you, friend?”  
Vinyl Scratch stared at her former companion for a moment. Her head throbbed, her ears stung, and her shoulder burned. But she looked directly up, into Octavia’s wild, violet eyes.  
“You know, I always liked dubstep better than classical music.”