Miscreation

1.
The act of creating something wrongly or badly

1.1.
An ill-formed or misshapen thing

Dr Blot Hermane awoke in a coagulation of blood and vomit.

Alongside what could only be compared to the worst hangover to ever grace Equestria.

He desperately tried to roll out of his blanket dried in the remains of last night’s escapade but every movement sent waves of nausea throughout his body. A splitting headache echoed from the back of his skull and he could feel his eyes stinging from lack of sleep.

What in the hay happened last night?

He faintly recalled an alleyway, a struggle, a stetson on the floor, an orange mare.

An orange mare.

Applejack.

With a heaving effort, the near incapacitated therapist tumbled out of bed and dragged himself to his bedroom’s door frame. His heart dropped when he noticed the unmistakable bloodied print of a claw decorating his hallway.

Applejack… What have I done?

He collapsed right in front of his still wide open front door, his mouth agape in horror.

His entrance lobby had been practically re-painted a sickening shade of crimson. With the last of his strength, Blot launched himself against his front door, closing it shut.

Have to clean. Now.

But what about Applejack?

Buck.

After a short rest to catch his breath, Blot stumbled haphazardously towards his guest bathroom. Ugly blotches of dried blood littered his once pristine coat, which he took to hastily washing out with panicked splashes of water and hoof-wash.

I have to know what happened.
If I hurt somepony...

Blot shook the thought from his head. He’d cross that bridge when he got there.
Crusted blood turned into a deep shade of brown, as it dropped off his coat and into the sink and floor. After a quick dip into the shower, he emerged from the bathroom and took in the full carnage of what had happened the night before.

His lobby had been overturned, with furniture having been flung across the length of the room. Many of his once priceless paintings had been torn in two, including a family portrait featuring his mother and father. A lamp had been tossed into the doorway leading into his kitchen.

He peeked a glance towards the hallway which led to his office.

It seemed untouched.

Fortunately.

Blot shuffled the most noticeably displaced furniture back into its normal position and wiped down the inside of his door frame. Dealing with the blood on the floor would take a while, but fortunately, he wasn’t expecting any clients to come in today.

His hair slicked back and coat at least semi-presentable, Blot opened the front door and stepped out into the warm morning sun. Ponies had gathered in worried communion throughout his neighbourhood. A grey mail pony flew haphazardously above, dropping newspapers and mail envelopes.

The mare passed directly overhead, close enough for Blot to see the panic in her eyes.

A newspaper landed squarely in front of him.

The Ponyville Herald

Ponyville’s Premiere Reporting Office

THREE PONIES FOUND DEAD IN STARSWIRL DRIVE,

ELEMENT OF HONESTY FOUND AT CRIME SCENE.

Blot backed away from the headline in front of him, his eyes widened in panic and shock.

Three ponies dead? I couldn’t have.

Fledgling details of the night before surfaced. Applejack face-first in the dirt. Three stallions, one a slim unicorn.

He… He went first.

Blot looked down at his hooves and saw the beast’s claws inside the abdomen of the unicorn, his face locked in an endless scream.

He shook his head and the claws were gone, he was outside his house again.

Terrified ponies looked to one another. The panic spread like a wildfire, the newspaper acting as the tinder.

Most ponies fled into their homes. The brave banded together and marched towards the town centre, desperate for answers.

‘Blot. Have you read the news? Murders, right here in Ponyville. I can hardly believe it!’ a masculine voice called from somewhere to his left. A towering column of white entered his view, blotting out half of the sun. Unbelievable amounts of muscle riddled his body, veins on the verge of bursting at the seams.

Bulk Biceps. His first Ponyville client and now, one of his best friends.

The pegasus had suffered from an extreme case of body dysmorphia as well as severe bouts of anger and anxiety. They’d worked together for months and in the process, became good friends.

Not to mention the fact that the giant lived right next to him.

‘Yeah Bulk, I actually just saw the headline. Do you know what happened?’ Blot replied, turning to face the gargantuan pegasus.

‘YEA- I uh, I mean yes. According to the news, somepony or something did a real number on some hooligans in an alleyway off Starswirl Drive. Only witness is Applejack, and from what I’ve read in The Herald, she’s barely said a peep.’

A swathe of relief washed over Blot’s body.

She’s alive.

‘Was Applejack hurt?’ Blot inquired.

‘From what I know, she’s got a mild concussion, asides from that, physically speaking, she’s fine. I’m more worried about here and here,’ Biceps said, beckoning to his heart and then his head. ‘Some of the ponies here think that she’s the one responsible for what happened.’

Blot cast a troubled look towards his friend, ‘I need to go into town and speak to her. She’s my client after all,’ he said, trotting down the street leading to the greater Ponyville area. ’I’ll talk to you later Bulk.’

‘One second doc,’ the massive pegasus called from behind him, freezing Blot in his tracks. ‘I noticed that your door was open this morning. There were some marks on the stairs, but I wiped them off for you.

‘Is there something you’re not telling me? You know you can trust me.’ Bulk finished, a worried expression spread across his face.

‘I- Nothing’s wrong Bulk, don’t worry. I had a bit too much to drink last night and spilled some cranberry ale all over the place. Thanks for the help.’ the off-guard therapist stammered out before hurrying off towards town.

Applejack stared absently into space, sat in her chair bordering the Cutie Map.

Twilight Sparkle and company sat all around her flanked by ranking members of the Ponyville guard and police forces. They had tried getting the usually bright mare to talk for hours.

Applejack tried to close her eyes as little as possible, for when she did, the images of her eviscerated attackers flooded her thoughts. She raised a hoof to her temple and rubbed erratically.

‘Ah don’t want to see it anymore. Ah don’t.’ she croaked, in pain from whatever spell the unicorn from last night had put on her.

‘What don’t you want to see anymore, Applejack?’ she heard Twilight ask from her side.

Applejack turned to face her, eyes as wide as dinner plates.

‘The thing that did this. Ah don’t want to see their faces and t-their bodies either. Ah don’t want to. Ah can’t.’ Applejack stammered out, fresh tears welling around the corners of her bloodshot eyes.

Twilight cut a concerned glance to her multi-coloured pack of friends and the authorities looming over them.

‘Applejack, we didn’t find anypony else at the crime scene. Just you. You need to be more specific. Was it an animal? Something from the Everfree? Why were you there?’ Twilight pressed, a sense of urgency in her voice.

‘Twilight, don’t you feel like you’re asking her too much?’ Fluttershy squeaked from across the Cutie Map.

‘Whatever did this could still be out there, Fluttershy and if it is, all of Ponyville is in peril. I’m only asking because I have to.’ Twilight replied with authority.

‘Ah… Ah don’t think it came from the Everfree. It was too… violent,’ Applejack managed. ‘Much too violent. Ah was on mah way back from that therapy session and-and Ah got lost in the dark.

‘Those ponies, they wanted to-’ she paused, thinking about the well kept pony and his hoof on her thigh. ‘-hurt me but the thing got to them first.’

‘What was it Applejack? This thing you keep mentioning.’ Twilight asked, her usual friendly tone taking over.

‘It… Ah… It was somethin’ unnatural. Somethin’ Ah’ve never seen before,’ Applejack paused, rubbing her eyes frantically with her hooves. ‘A monster.’

Silence descended on the gathering.

Which was interrupted by rushed hoof-steps echoing throughout the crystalline castle.

Doctor Blot Hermane stood in the chamber's glimmering crystal doorway.

All heads turned, with the exception of Pinkie, who’d been silent and deflated since the interrogation had begun.

‘I’m here to talk to my client. We’d like some privacy.’ Blot demanded.

Behind him, the group could hearing hasty hoofsteps, followed by a guard stumbling into the once silent chamber.

‘Princess! He just barged in, I tried to chase him but I- uh slipped.’ the burgundy earth pony guard admitted, the fire of embarrassment rising to his cheeks.

‘What in the hay do you think you’re doing?’ queried the head of the combined Ponyville police and guard forces, a stallion referred to by all his underlings as ‘Mr. Watch’. ‘This is an investigation!’

‘I’m very aware that this is an investigation, but my client needs psychological counselling after what happened.’ replied the stoic therapist, his face contorted into a visage of stone.

‘It’s okay, Mr. Watch. He’s right, Applejack saw some very troubling things last night,’ Twilight said, to the police chief’s dismay. ‘We’ll take what we’ve learnt with a hint of salt for now but be sure to increase patrols, especially around Starswirl Drive. This can’t happen again.

'But, Doctor Hermane, you should know better than to barge in here like that. Especially after what happened.' Twilight finished.

Blot nodded curtly and entered the chamber.

Without further dispute, Mr. Watch alongside his teal unicorn assistant and guard-ponies begrudgingly made to leave the room, cutting Blot a look of disregard.

‘Okay, this is horse-manure. We can’t just leave Applejack alone with a shrink! She needs her friends, not some pansy-pransy doctor.’ Rainbow Dash exclaimed, hovering above the Cutie Map.

‘There will be plenty of time for us to spend with Applejack later,’ Rarity said, hopping off her seat. ‘She first needs some help that nopony here asides from the good doctor can provide.’

After several minutes of arguing, Rainbow Dash and the rest of Applejack’s friends left the room. Pinkie Pie left last, casting a sad glance Applejack’s way, before closing the door. Blot move to sit next to Applejack, who he kept a soft eye on.

Silence dominated the chamber.

Blot waited for Applejack to say something. Anything.

But he wouldn’t push her. He’d wait until she felt ready to speak, be that a minute from now or a day.

He’d wait.

‘Thank ye fer comin’ to check up on me, doc.’ Applejack croaked out after several minutes.

‘Please, call me Blot,’ he replied, cutting Applejack a cheeky grin. ‘Do you want to talk about what happened?’

‘First time somepony actually asked if Ah wanted to talk ‘bout it,’ she replied with a sigh. ‘Mah friends mean well, but sometimes they can be a bit much, y’know.’

‘Trust me, my friend Biceps is the same.’

‘As in Bulk Biceps? Ye know the big fella? Didn’t take him for the friend makin’ sort.’ Applejack said with a pained chuckle.

‘He wasn’t, for a long time. But I helped him and I guess in a way, he helped me too.’

The two sat in companionable silence for a few more minutes, enjoying each other's presence. Even under the circumstances, the atmosphere felt oddly relaxed to Blot.

‘Ah think Ah’m ready to talk about some parts of last night.’ Applejack spoke up.

‘Whatever you’re comfortable with. No need to rush.’ Blot said, making gentle eye contact with the farm mare.

‘There’s somethin’ specific about last night. Somethin’ more disturbin’ than the rest of it, if you’d believe it,’ Applejack started, a pained expression on her face. ‘It was some kinda monster that did it. That killed all those ponies.

‘It… Looked like it recognized me, Ah think. Ah could’ve just as easily been among the bodies in that damned alleyway, excuse mah cursin’, but it just looked me over an’ left.’ Applejack said, exasperated.

Blot’s face contorted in confusion.

It… I recognized her? How is that even possible. Was that really me in there? Some decrepit fragment of my personality in there.

Or is it more than that?

‘Doc, yer doin’ that deep thought thing again.’ Applejack said, shaking Blot from his internal monologue..

‘Yeah, sorry Applejack. It’s just a lot to take in. You’re sure whatever it was recognized you?’ he asked.

‘Ah’m not certain, no. But Ah do truly believe that it did.’ Applejack replied, shuffling around in her seat completely to face the doctor.

‘How do you feel about it recognizing you?’ Blot asked sympathetically.

‘Ah… Ah really don’t know. Ah mean, it did save mah life in a way. But what it did to those ponies, however wicked they may have been… Ah wouldn’t wish that on mah worst enemy.’ She replied, meeting Blot’s.

They lingered for a moment.

A sense of familiarity in the encounter washed over Applejack. One she neither could or wanted to shake loose.

Suddenly, the entrance to the chamber bust open.

A massive red stallion held the chamber doors open with a stoic but concerned look on his face. From beneath him a tiny blur of yellow and red barreled towards Applejack.

The blur took to the air and firmly attached itself to the farm-mare’s abdomen.

‘Applejack, why didn’t ye come home?’ the tiny shape asked, face buried into Applejack’s side.

‘Ah was going to Apple Bloom. Ah just had to make a stop here first, that’s all.’ Applejack replied, putting a reassuring hoof on her sister’s back.

The gargantuan stallion from before (whom Blot quickly came to recognize as none other than Big Macintosh), began walking towards his sister. He cut Blot a quick glance and a curt nod, before resting his head against his sister’s shoulder.

‘Good to see yer okay, Applejack,’ Big Mac said.

‘Blot, Ah think Ah need some alone time with mah family. Thanks fer comin’ to check up on me. Ah’ll see ya later this week,’ Applejack said, as Apple Bloom wiggled her face deeper into her older sister’s belly.

‘Of course. My advice from yesterday’s session still stands. Take the week off. You’ve earned it.’ Blot said with a smile.

‘Will do, doc.’ Applejack winked.

With that, Doctor Blot Hermane left the Apple family in what could only be described as a three-pony-pillow.

‘Bulk. You’re cheating. Again. We’ve spoken about this! You need to take it easy with the weights.’ a rather annoyed therapist said.

‘But Blo- I mean doc, it’s hard to resist! I mean, I keep a set of barbells in my room and well, they just sing to me. It’s hard to wait for my bi-weekly workouts, y’know.

‘A few reps, a pump. That’s all it was.’

Blot sighed and cast his friend a sympathetic look. ‘Bulk. You don’t need to get any bigger. Even though you’ve lost weight, your size is still a health hazard. Next week, I want you to workout only once, no more than that.

‘I don’t want to hear about “a few reps and a pump” again. Alright?’ Blot scolded, an accusative hoof held aloft.

‘Yeah, alright doc. I’ll do my best.’ the Bulk conceded, his sheer mass eliciting a creak from Blot’s office chair.

‘That’s what I like to hear. Now, let’s get some cider from the fridge.’ Blot laughed before strutting out his office, down the hallway and into his kitchen.

Bulk Biceps followed in pursuit and shut his friend’s office door behind him, a smile on his face. He loved these ‘emergency’ sessions with Blot. They almost always ended in the pair kicking back with some fine Apple family cider. Technically speaking, he was already well on his road towards recovery, having felt more comfortable in his own body than ever before. He’d even lost close to seventy kilos of muscle mass!

But every now and then he had to break protocol.

Nopony’s perfect.

As Bulk entered his well kept friend’s lobby, he couldn’t shake the strange feeling that something had changed.

‘Hey doc, you do any redecorating in here?’ he called out to his friend who he could hear fiddling with a refrigerator in the next room.

‘I-uh, yeah, I did actually! Thought I’d move one or two things around. Give the room a fresh feeling, y’know?

‘And Bulk, we’re off the clock. It’s Blot, not “doc”.’ Blot joked as he exited the kitchen, with two glasses of cider. Blot kept himself a secret stash of the stuff, hidden away throughout his house over the years. He’d caught his enormous pegasus friend searching for his hidden treasure several times, earning him a good old scolding.

‘How did you even get so much of this stuff, Blot? Last time I checked, the Apple family is almost always low on cider because of its popularity.’ Bulk said, grinning as he took the glass from Blot’s incredibly dextrous hoof.

‘I’m a therapist, Bulk. I’m a good talker I suppose, and Granny Smith is an even greater listener!’ he laughed, before the pair sat across one another on Blot’s antique chairs.

They sat in companionable silence for a while, occasionally sipping on cider.

‘Blot, I wanted to ask you about what happened last week with Applejack down at the castle. You never told me how that went.’

‘Well, considering what she had seen the night before, I think it went well. Ended with her family storming the castle, not that I can blame them, I practically did the same thing,’ the doctor said, his face tightening. ‘Whole town’s been up in arms since that night.’ he finished, taking a lofty sip of his cider.

‘Yeah, well, ponies haven’t been killed here since well… Ever, really. Most violent crime is supposed to take place in those big city type places like Canterlot and Manehatten,’

‘Except from what I’ve heard, whatever killed those three scumbags wasn’t even a pony,’ Bulk said with a grim expression. ‘You know if that’s true?’

Blot’s demeanour had gone from jovial to deeply troubled in the span of two minutes.

‘According to Applejack, it’s true. She said that she saw “a monster” or something.’ Blot said, eyes locked with Bulk.

No reason to lie about this. He might as well know. Word spreads fast here anyways, if I didn’t tell him, somepony else would have.

‘Sweet Celestia, shouldn’t we be worried then?’ Bulk asked, a look of terror on his face.

‘Bulk, I don’t think you have anything to be concerned about. The monster will take one look at you and head for the hills.’ the therapist laughed, seemingly back to his normal demeanour.

‘Yeah, real funny, “doc”,’ Bulk replied, a smile escaping his face. ‘I’m serious though, what if it comes back?’

‘Then we’ll be ready next time. Twilight has already doubled the guard presence here, and police-ponies are on standby too,’ Blot began, finishing off his cider. ‘Plus, there’s nothing indicating that whatever it was will even come back!’

‘I guess that’s true,’ Bulk said, finishing his cider.

‘Now, Bulk. If I recall, correctly, you mentioned a mare that you fancied the last time we spoke.’

The pair spoke on end for several hours, starting with Bulk detailing his affection for a certain rose merchant. They drifted from topic to topic, as friends do in deep conversation.

A sudden rapping at the door disturbed them from their conversation.

‘I’m coming, I’m coming.’ Blot called out with a laugh, rising from his seat.

He opened the front door with a great, goofy smile which disappeared as soon as it had emerged. A terribly pale Cheerilee stood off balance against his door frame, drenched in blood.

‘Doc, I’ve done something awful. I-I didn’t know where to go, I need your help.’

Behind him, he could hear Bulk rising from his seat.

Worse still, he could feel an all too familiar hunger rising from his gut.

Buck.

Author's Note

Slightly less action this time around.

There will be plenty next time.

That having been said, I'm looking for proofreaders who're digging the story. If you're interested, don't hesitate to drop me a comment or a DM.

Thanks!