The Ponyville Aberration

Coagulation

1.

to change from a fluid into a thickened mass; curdle; congeal

Cheerilee saw nought but sunken gloom surrounding the once colourful, proud and lively town of Ponyville.

The town’s once vibrantly coloured buildings had fallen into a state of utter decay. Broken shards of glass sprinkled the cobbled pathways meandering throughout the town. The paint on the outside of the buildings had faded drastically, leaving behind a dull shade of beige. It appeared to Cheerilee as though the entire town had all at once deserted, leaving the settlement to degenerate.

A ghost town.

Cheerilee wandered the ash littered streets, carefully avoiding shards of glass as she went. An unmistakable, massive shadow enveloped the ground in front of her.

The Castle of Friendship? What’s left of it at least.

A mockery of the once magnificent crystalline fortress loomed over Ponyville. Its banners had been torn and its sharp spires in a state of disrepair. The keep’s front door had been torn clean off the hinges.

With a sad shake of her head, Cheerilee continued through the town.

She passed by several of the town’s ruined landmarks, such as what was once Sugar Cube Corner. And then, upon a hill of ash and shattered glass, Cheerilee found what she’d been searching for.

The Ponyville Schoolhouse.

It radiated with colour and liveliness and life, just as she had remembered. Green glass, a seemingly unerring blue sky, vibrant red paint.

A stark contrast to the otherwise bleak world around it.

Cheerilee approached the schoolhouse, enjoying every step. Walking up to the front door, she heard the unmistakable rattle of classroom chatter. A turn of a door knob, and she was face first with her class.

Most of her foals sat in their chairs, but some had scuffled around the class to interact with their friends. Ecstatic conversation racketed from desk to desk alongside excited squeaks and laughter.

A warm smile spread across Cheerilee’s face.

And a tear ran down her cheek.

The chatter grew louder and louder, overwhelming her. Cheerilee tried to control the rampant uproar, but found herself drowning in the noise. The cacophony grew ever-louder and Cheerilee could feel her ears straining to deal with the overwhelming sound.

‘Please class, stop!’ Cheerilee shouted, hopeless wails scattering to the wind.

A single lit candle sat everbright on Cheerilee’s desk.

Have to silence the screaming.

Cheerilee frantically darted towards her desk with a crazed twitch in her eye. She grasped the lit candle by its base, warm wax burning her gums and tongue.

The orchestra of speech had reached a high crescendo.

And in that moment between the screaming and pained throbbing of her ear drums, Cheerilee knew what had to be done.

She dropped the candle into a pile of papers, which were quickly enveloped in flame. The fire spread unbelievably fast, encapsulating a nearby bookcase in a matter of seconds.

Her class had taken notice, but Cheerilee beat the nearest foal to the door.

Which she promptly slammed shut behind her.

The once happy squeals of her class slowly shifted to that of panic, and eventually, terror and pain.

Cheerilee walked away from the burning schoolhouse and towards the ruined Ponyville. A triplet of filles chattered amongst themselves to her left, but she paid them no heed.

I had to stop the screaming.

Ponyville and the burning schoolhouse behind her fade to black, and Cheerilee found herself spinning endlessly. Until her eyes opened to the burning artificial light of a ceiling lamp. Cheerilee awoke alone in her hospital room, a bead of sweat running down her forehead.

Was that a nightmare… or a memory?

Around her lay a treasury of assorted gifts she’d accumulated during the two weeks since her incident at Doctor Hermane’s home. Flowers, get well cards and a plethora of other similar well intended gestures.

And yet, asides from her daily visits from Nurse Redheart and the occasional checkup with Doctor Hermane, she had been completely isolated. Cheerilee looked down at the masses of bandages wrapped her foreleg. The cut had been deep, yes, but not deep enough to warrant two weeks of hospitalization. Cheerilee theorized that Doctor Hermane had spoken with the hospital officials about keeping her out of fear of what she might do.

Or what I might have already done.

Cheerilee rubbed her temples and laid her head back into the pillow and stared into the beige ceiling tiles above her. A sense of drowsiness washed over her, but she dared not shut her eyes for too long, lest the screaming begin anew. Regardless, not much in the way of sleep had visited the once jovial mare as of late anyways.

And when it did, she more often than not wished she were awake.

She cut another glance at her bandaged foreleg. Above all, she felt embarrassed about the incident, partially why she hadn’t gone straight to the hospital in the first place. She felt like everypony saw her as “the mare who went mad” after what had happened with the Schoolhouse.

Even more embarrassingly, with her recent thoughts, Cheerilee couldn’t help but wonder if they were right.

‘I’m thankful for your help, Captain, but really, we have things under control here. I’m sure however, that we can draft up some orders for your regiment.’

Princess Twilight Sparkle stood face to face with the Captain of Princess Luna’s bat pony ‘Lunar Guard’ outfit. She felt somewhat insulted. In her letter to Celestia, she had clearly written (if somewhat hastily) that she had the situation under control.

Seems like the Princesses don’t agree.

An impressive, muscle rippled specimen; the bat pony stood easily as tall as Big Mac, with just as much mass to boot. A short cut, crimson mane cut a clean contrast against his deep teal coat.

‘You seem to misunderstand the situation, Princess. As much as I respect you, I’m not here to follow your orders. I’m here to clean up after you,’ the bat pony started, with a cold shine in his eyes. ‘And please, call me Coal.’

‘You think that my guard can’t keep Ponyville safe? I’m no filly, and neither are my guards.’ Twilight replied with a scowl.

‘I don’t doubt the abilities of your guard, Princess. At least, their abilities in the day. But whatever this thing is. It only seems to come out to play in the night,

‘We’re bat ponies, ma’am. We’re used to the night; specialized in it, even. We’ll catch your monster.’ Coal finished as he paced around the crystalline antechamber the pair found themselves in.

Hay… He has a point.

Twilight raised an exhausted hoof to her temple. She’d been researching the nature of beast plaguing Ponyville the entirety of the last week, barely taking time to sleep. She cared too much for her ponies to let this thing get the better of her.

And yet, she’d found nothing resembling Applejack’s description. The Ponyville Aberration the local papers had called it. The name had spread through hushed whispers throughout the developing town. Eventually, she’d even caught her own guard ponies murmur about the thing when they thought she couldn’t hear. Nothing in any of her vast stacks of tomes made mention of such a violent being.

After the most recent killings, Twilight felt willing enough to believe in just about anything.

She couldn’t let injured pride get in the way of the safety of ponies.

‘I- Okay, Coal. I grant you permission to handle our nighttime operations. However, should you encounter the um-Aberration, I expect to be informed post-haste.’ Twilight stated, looking the bat pony dead in the eyes.

‘Thank you, Princess Twilight. Consider this beast a worry of the past.’ Coal replied with a smirk, promptly leaving Twilight to her thoughts.

For the sake of Ponyville, I hope you’re right, Captain.

Doctor Blot Hermane sat alone in his office chair, his eyes fastened on the desk in front of him. More specifically, on a piece of parchment.

A Pained Confession,

For the last six to seven months, I’ve struggled with something. Something horrible and twisted. Something I thought I could control.

I was mistaken.

I realize that now. Except, it’s too late. Far, far too late. Ponies have been hurt… by me. It’s impossible for me to put this all on paper. The pain, the fear. I’ll do my best. It seems that, I’ve been infected with some kind of pathogen. Or perhaps I’ve been cursed or possessed by some supernatural being.

To be honest with you, I’m not sure.

What I am sure about however, especially as of late, is that whatever this thing inside of me is, it has to be stopped. I feel this hunger sometimes. It feels insatiable, neverending. It turns me into something horrible.

It turns me into a monster.

That’s just it. A monster.

With this letter, I aim to confess to all the recent murders here in Ponyville. Bon Bon, Lyra, those three stallions down in Starswirl Drive. All of them.

I didn’t want anypony to get hurt, but this can’t continue.

I won’t let it.

I am the Ponyville Aberration.

I confess.

Signed,

Doctor Blot Hermane

Blot’s eyes were rimmed with tears. He’d written the letter hours ago. It had been bright when he first entered his office, but now, Luna’s moon hung solemnly in the night sky. He stared at the parchment in front of him, knowing it to be the right thing to do. He’d bring it to Twilight and confess audibly. He’d stand in front of her, and tell her everything, from the beginning.

He’d give her his confession, and then she would decide what comes next for him.

And yet, the doctor couldn’t budge from his seat.

He had responsibilities. Bulk, Applejack and even Cheerilee in her sorry state back at the hospital. The rest of his patients and his family. What would they think of him? He realized now that he needed them just as much as they needed him.

Maybe even more.

He raised a hoof to his troubled head, and went through a series of stretches. His shoulder bone crackled, and his neck popped. He rested his head on the desk, laying his muzzle on the parchment.

And then, he felt his leg crack in several familiar places.

It’s starting.

Buck.

Blot hastily shoved the parchment into a desk drawer and slammed it shut with a resounding crash.

Cartilage dislodged and bended. Tendons stretched and tore.

Before finally, after an eternity; the transformation concluded. His malformed, pale shape lay prone on the floor, and yet; something felt off.

I’m still in control…

How?

Blot struggled to stand straight, unused to controlling the spindly, broken form of the aberration. He towered a good half meter above even his highest bookcases. A ray of pale moonlight cast Blot’s broken shadow on the ground and he did all he could to stifle a gag.

He stumbled towards the doorway, half falling on its frame. His claws sunk deep into the woodwork. He pushed on the frame in an attempt to correct his position, however, with unnatural strength ripped of a chunk of polished wood.

That’s going to be expensive.

In the back of his mind, Blot sensed an overwhelming darkness biting at the heels, desperate to be let loose. Battling its advances took all of his willpower; and yet, he somehow managed to keep it at bay.

I have to stay indoors. Nopony can see me like this.

Blot entered the hallway and despite having surprisingly clear vision of floor in front of him, stumbled like a drunkard towards the bathroom. He barely managed to fit his gargantuan form inside, before slamming the door shut and locking it for good measure.

This is going to be a long night.

Applejack laid in bed, eyes glued to the ceiling.

Her room had been bathed in darkness, asides from the pale illuminance of the moon shining through her window.

She’d been replaying her fateful encounter in the alley way over and over again, as she had been doing for weeks.

She’d analysed every detail of the scene.

And she still couldn’t figure out why she’d been spared.

By all rights, Applejack’s survival had been a work of some miracle. Whatever that thing was, she couldn’t possibly have outrun it.

It had moved so quickly.

So violently.

Applejack shuddered.

She remembered the look on the monster’s face. It wasn’t anger or hatred. It was recognition.

And yet, how could it possibly recognize her. She’d never seen the “Aberration” in her entire life.

Except she couldn’t quite shake the feeling. However distant and improbable.

That she’d recognized the beast too.