Aberration

1.

a departure from what is normal, usual, or expected, typically an unwelcome one.

A strained whimper escaped Cheerilee’s lips.

She saw nought but the black fibers of her blindfold. A tight, mark leaving knot kept the fabric in place. The unmistakable tang of metal ran rampant in her mouth alongside a throbbing pain along the inner rim of her bottom lip. Thick, bristled ropes barred Cheerilee from cleaning the blood from her mouth.

How did I get here?

‘Good, you’re awake. Shall we run through your story again?’ a cruel, malevolent voice hissed from somewhere to her right.

‘What? How did I get here? Who are you?’ Cheerilee sobbed, straining against her bindings

A tremendous force connected with her muzzle. Cheerilee felt more blood ooze into her mouth, as she struggled to regain her composure.

‘You’re being rude. I asked you a question first, so as per common courtesy, you have to answer it!’ the voice screeched from no more than a foot in front of her face.

Blood and mangled chips of Cheerilee’s teeth dripped from her mouth and onto the floor.

‘Let me help you with that,’ the voice cooed maliciously as a rag cleaned away her mouth. ‘There we are. Now, tell me again, what is your connection with the Aberration?’

Memories flooded Cheerilee’s head, dissipating the grogginess. Trotting towards town. A conversation with a veiled stallion. What did he say his name was?

Crackle.

She recalled hazed details of their interaction: interest in her name, something about the school incident, responsibility and… the Aberration?

Cheerilee shook her head and meekly raised her chin in the greatest facade of courage she could muster.

‘I don’t know anything about the Aberration. Nothing that you don’t know already at least. I’ve never seen head nor tail of the thing outside newspaper headlines.’ Cheerilee managed, speaking slowly as to not worsen the sorry state of her mouth.

An irritable sigh escaped her captor’s lips, followed by the clitter clatter of hooves on concrete.

‘Listen, that just can’t be possible. As far as I’m concerned, there’s only a handful of potential leads here, and you’re high up on the list, alongside that Applejack mare. She just happens to be the only witness to have ever seen the beast, and you’re the only other mare to have a link to some form of massacre here in town,’ Crackle paused his monologue, and Cheerilee could feel his breath on her face. ‘That’s a bit fishy, don’t you think ma’am?’

Cheerilee instinctively moved her muzzle away, and turned her head to the side.

‘Buck you.’ Cheerilee managed, after spitting a hefty glob of bloody saliva in Crackle’s general direction.

‘Somehow, I was hoping you’d say something like that. Y’know, it’s natural for ponies to fear the unknown,’ Crackle started, as he paced somewhere behind Cheerilee’s back. ‘That’s why I use blindfolds for this sort of thing, keeps the atmosphere tense y’know?’

Cheerilee felt a tug at the base of her skull, and then, light flooded her vision.

‘But for this, I want you to see everything.’ Crackle whispered in her ear.

As Cheerilee’s eyes adjusted to the room around her, several things become readily apparent. Firstly, she was in a basement, more specifically, the basement underneath her old schoolhouse. Secondly, Crackle had bound her to some sort of support structure, something she clearly couldn’t escape from.

Finally, she realized the chances of her leaving this place alive had begun to steadily drop.

Before Cheerilee sat an assortment of tools and devices spread neatly atop platters of silver. The instruments were sharp and wicked looking. Some she recognized as scalpels from her time at the hospital, others looked more like industrial tools used in the construction of barns or houses.

Most notably among the platter however, was the midnight black chair seated mere meters away from her.

The chair featured knobs and levers of all sorts. A plethora of holes of all shapes and sizes decorated the chair’s seat, back board and armrests. A trypophobiac’s nightmare. Some sinister metal gleamed maliciously within.

‘This is your last chance to tell me something I don’t know, Cheerilee. I’m done playing games with you,’ Crackle said, trotting into view.

Terror swelled in Cheerilee’s bowels.

‘Please, listen. What happened at the schoolyard was an accident, I swear. I’m just scared and alone. I have absolutely nothing to do with what’s been going on here recently, I couldn't have. For Celestia’s sake, I’ve been hospitalized for months now!’ Cheerilee pleaded, her voice cracking and whining.

Crackle raised a pink, scarred eyebrow.
‘Hospitalized?’ he inquired, cocking his head to the side.

‘Yes, hospitalized. I-I um, injured myself.’ Cheerilee admitted, a curtain of shame encompassing her body.

‘Ah, I see. That explains the scar on your foreleg. But that wouldn’t have taken more than a few weeks to heal at best. What kept you there for so long?’ Crackle asked, moving closer to Cheerilee’s face.

She wrinkled her nose in revolt.

‘My therapist. I think he was concerned about my mental state.’ Cheerilee managed, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Cheerilee felt Crackle rise up and look down on her.

‘Blot Hermane. Maybe there’s more to you than meets the eye after all,’ Crackle thought aloud to himself, before turning to Cheerilee once more.

‘Tell me everything you know about your therapist.’

‘Bulk, I already told you that I can’t come clean,’ Blot called out as his gargantuan friend paced around his office. ‘I’ve thought about it, believe me. I even wrote a letter. But I’ve got ponies that rely on me. Can you imagine how ponies like Cheerilee would react if they found out the truth?’

Blot raised a hoof to his head and massaged his temple. Bulk had questioned him for hours on end about the Aberration, and what lengths he’d already taken in his attempts to control it.

And now, for no less than the fourth time since the conversation had begun, Bulk had once again brought up the topic of confession.

‘Blot, how many more ponies have to die before you see what’s going on here. I’m your friend, and as your friend, it’s my duty to tell you when you’ve lost control. As far as I’m concerned, at this point, you’re headed down manure creek without a paddle.’ Bulk exclaimed, throwing a frustrated hoof in the air.

‘I know Bulk, I know. But you need to understand, the Aberration can’t be contained. Even if I were to confess and get incarcerated in Tartarus, there’s no guarantee that I won’t escape. And then what? What if the Aberration goes feral and I lose all control?’ Blot started, looking his disgruntled friend in the eye. ‘I’ve made some progress controlling it.’

Bulk stomped, eliciting a pained whine from the floorboard below.

‘What do you mean, you’ve made some progress? More than a dozen ponies are dead, Blot! How do you even know if you’ve made “progress”?’ Bulk cried out, tears threatening to burst.

‘Because Applejack would be dead if I hadn’t! I have to hang onto that. I have to hang onto some kind of hope.’ Blot exclaimed, visibly deflating in his chair. For the first time, he’d allowed himself to become truly vulnerable with another pony.

Bulk’s face untensed, and his shoulders slumped back. The giant took a strained seat.

Silence reigned supreme in the office for what felt like hours.

‘If you won’t confess, then let me help you liked you’ve helped me over the years,’ Bulk said, breaking the silence.

‘How?’

‘I’ve got an idea. You say that the Aberration doesn’t harm those that you care about, right?’ Bulk asked, looking Blot in the eye.

‘Well yes, but I wouldn’t say that’s entirely concrete either.’ Blot started with a puzzled eyebrow. ‘Why do you ask?’

Bulk leaned back in his chair, as the brilliance of his idea swept across his features.

‘Because, I’m moving in with you.’

‘What?’ Blot cried out, rising out of his chair.

‘Oh yeah, that’s right. I’m gonna tame the Aberration. Friendship is Magic after all isn’t it?’

Blot felt his jaw hit the table.

‘For the record Bulk, I think this is a terrible idea.’ Blot called out from down his hallway, before dumping a bundle of blankets and pillows at Bulk’s hooves.

The pair had spent the afternoon converting Blot’s living room into a makeshift campsite for Bulk to spend the forthcoming weeks. They’d installed nets, failsafes and of course a set of light weights for the giant to use in his free time.

‘You’ve been dealing with this alone for long enough, Blot. I’m just fulfilling my duties as your friend.’ Bulk chortled, retrieving the assorted beddings from the floor.

‘Best friend, Bulk. Best friend.’ Blot corrected with a warm smile.
Bulk felt a smile of his own emerging. Things for the first time in what felt like an eternity, felt as though they were going back to normal.

‘Best friend.’ Bulk acknowledged, before dropping the linen onto the bed he’d transferred from his own home.

‘Run me through your plan again, would you?’ Blot grumbled, sitting on one of his living room chairs.

‘When you start to feel the… change, you call out for me. Then, I lead the Aberration into this room where I try to talk to it. Maybe a friendly voice is all it needs to bring you back into control. If things start to go south, I trigger the net and bolt into the next room and set up the barrier we built earlier. Then, I book it out the window.’ Bulk finished, with a look of pride spread across his face.

‘Alright Bulk, I’m still not sure how you intend to fit through my window, but if you claim you can do it, I believe you.’ Blot laughed, before rising out of his chair and trotting over to the kitchen.

Bulk rolled onto his bed and allowed a chuckle of his own to echo throughout the room.

‘Listen alright, I did a test run earlier, and it worked just fine. I slipped through like a salmon in a stream.’ Bulk boasted with another chuckle.

‘Like a salmon in a stream? What does the even mean?’ Blot called from the other room. ‘By the way, I’m making us some fried pumpkin for dinner tonight. Nothing particularly exciting of course, but it should fill us up.’

Suddenly, a cascade of of what Bulk identified to be dishes crashed to the floor in the kitchen.

‘Everything alright in there? Pumpkin too much to handle?’ Bulk chortled, sitting up on his bed.

‘No… Bulk, something’s wrong. Don’t you hear that screaming?’ Blot cried out, panic rising in his voice.

Bulk flung himself from his bed and spun into the kitchen. Blot sat with his back against a cupboard with his hooves covering his ears. His jaw muscles worked and strained, keeping his mouth clamped shut.

‘I’m here Blot. I don’t hear any screaming though.’ Bulk exclaimed, rushing to his friend’s aid.

‘It sounds like… Cheerilee.’ Blot managed through his grated teeth, before a sudden snap echoed throughout the kitchen.

Bulk turned off the stove which shimmered dangerously above .

Safety first.

‘Bulk, it’s starting. You have to get ready. I think Cheerilee’s in danger.’ Blot managed, before another snap echoed out from his twitching form.

Bulk could do nought but watch as his friend writhed in pain before him.

Get ready. Its show time.

Bulk rushed back into the living room, as Blot’s grunts and whines grew louder with every passing moment. He readied the net, alongside a long, prodding stick to keep the Aberration at a forelegs length should things go south.

With a deep breath, Bulk turned to face the kitchen and to his dismay, he faced darkness and silence. Somehow, all the lights in the kitchen had inexplicably gone out.

No, not quite silence.

Something took deep, lurching gasps of air in the shadows.

Bulk readied himself.

The Aberration arose in the darkness of the kitchen.

A barrage of smells and scents assaulted its senses. Pumpkin, spices, oils.

Pony flesh.

The beast lumbered towards the scent of its prey, and allowed its malformed head to duck out into the light.

‘Sweet Celestia, what’s happened to you Blot?’ something called out.

A hiss escaped the Aberration’s throat, as it took a step into the almost blinding light, and in the direction of its prey.

‘Blot, I know you’re in there somewhere. It’s me, Bulk Biceps. Your friend!’ the pony thing called out once again.

Bulk?

The Aberration shook its head in agonized confusion.
‘That’s right, fight it Blot! You’re stronger than this!’ the thing called out again.

The Aberration’s twisted eyes finally adjusted to the light. Furniture littered the room ahead, formed in some crescent shape towards the kitchen. Ropes hung from the ceiling, and then the beast spotted it.

A meaty, muscled pony with a stick mounted to its shoulder.

Not just any pony.

Bulk Biceps.

Friend?

The monstrosity shook its head once again, and latched a clawed hand onto a nearby wall. As if all at once, a cacophony of screaming and Bulk’s words of encouragement scrambled the Aberration’s mind.

Cheerilee. Danger.

The Aberration released a guttural screech in Bulk’s direction, who reeled back in terror. It bounded towards the door, and begun hacking at it with ebon claws of fury.

‘Blot, stop! Ponies will see! It’s still early!’ Bulk cried out, before prodding at the Aberration with his stick.

With a snarl, the beast whacked the stick away, sending Bulk sprawling to the ground.

‘This way! Out the back window!’ Bulk called out as he stumbled towards the kitchen and gingerly reeled the glass panel back.

Hunger. Danger. Cheerilee.

The Aberration spun its head around and bounded towards the kitchen, before acknowledging Bulk’s bruised form on the floor.

‘That’s right, whatever you are. I’m looking out for you. You’re not hurting anypony tonight!’ Bulk cried out, poking the Aberration with his stick.

The beast hissed before leaping out the window, followed in suit by a notably slower Bulk Biceps.

In hindsight, maybe Blot had a point earlier about this being a terrible idea.

Bulk had been tailing the Aberration’s tracks and trails for nothing short of half an hour. Every now and then he’d stop, thinking that he’d lost the beast in his pursuit. Then, a broken branch or clawed footprint would set him on the right path once again.

At first, he’d assumed that the Aberration would head straight for the Ponyville Hospital. Perhaps Cheerilee had refused an operation or something of the like.

But given the beast’s tracks, it seemed as though it was headed straight for the old schoolhouse on the hill.

But that’s been abandoned ever since…

Bulk shook his head and gingerly continued on his way, before the woods began to thin out. Just as expected, no more than a mere twenty meters from the treeline stood the ruined remains of the Ponyville Schoolhouse.

A shudder ran down his spine.

Suddenly, he felt a presence warp to his right. As if on cue, the pale form of the Aberration slinked next to Bulk and laid in wait betwixt some bushes and a tree.

‘I knew you understood me. I don’t know if that’s really Blot in there or not, but either way, looks like we’re on the same team.’ Bulk whispered from his own hiding spot in the undergrowth.

During their excursion to the schoolhouse, the sun had set, drawing a curtain of darkness across Ponyville.

‘I still don’t hear any screaming though.’ Bulk added, peeking his head out from his cover.

The Aberration hissed with a gnarl of irritation, before slipping almost silently out of his hiding spot and onto the hill. Bulk followed in suit, except, with half the care of a bison. The pair approached the blackened building carefully, the Aberration’s head twitching at every miniscule sound emerging from within.

And then, Bulk heard the faintest sound of what might have been a scream coming from… underneath the building? Puzzled, Bulk lowered his head to the ground, and placed an ear to the floor.

Sure enough, a definitively feminine cry greeted him.

Sweet Celestia, Blot heard that all the way from his house?

The Aberration began searching erratically around the schoolhouse, before eventually finding a securely locked trap door round the back of the building.

‘Now listen, I can’t let you go down there,’ Bulk exclaimed, stepping in between the trap door and the Aberration. “If you do, then not only will somepony get hurt. But there’s a good chance that you’ll get us both in some serious trouble.’

The Aberration towered over Bulk, its pale form gyrating in unbridled fury. A threatening hiss escaped its throat, and it drew closer to the muscled pegasus. With a gulp, Bulk readied his stick for the worst.

The beast nudged Bulk to the side, sending him tumbling to the ground, before unceremoniously ripping the trapdoor open.

‘No, don’t!’ Bulk half whispered half screamed, before to his surprise, the Aberration retreated from the trapdoor.

The beast acknowledged Bulk with a nod and then hissed at the newly opened abyss between them.

‘Wait, you want me to go down there?’ Bulk whispered in dismay, before the Aberration snarled and backed off into the shadows underneath a nearby broken pillar.

Some part of Blot is definitely in there.

With a determined look on his face, and a heart of gold, Bulk descended into the darkness below.

Cheerilee’s head hung low in exhaustion and defeat.

She’d been strapped into what Crackle called the ‘Throne of Thorns’ for nearly an hour. The routine was deceptively simple. He’d ask her a question regarding Blot, and if he he didn’t like the answer, he’d turn a knob which burrowed dozens of tiny spikes into various parts of her body.

By now, the chair had been practically repainted.

‘Cheerilee, how many times are you going to bucking lie to me tonight?’ Crackle asked with a maliciously soft tone. He turned the knob again, and the miniscule drills went to work once again.

They opened old wounds and generated new pieces of what he called ‘art’ on her body, eliciting yet another cry of anguish from the broken school mare.

‘Please! Please stop. I’ve told you everything I know about Blot and about the Aberration. I’ve told you everything.’ Cheerilee cried out through gritted teeth.

Crackle turned the knob again, and the ‘thorns’ retracted.

‘Somehow, I sense that our time together is drawing to a close. You know more than you care to admit, and I can’t stand a liar,’ Crackle began, before walking over to the ominous lever attached to the right of the apparatus. ‘I’ll be frank with you then, ma’am. You’re going to die tonight.’

Tears escaped Cheerilee’s eyes.

I already knew that.

‘I can make this as painless, or as painful as you’d like it to be,’ Crackle said, hovering his face in front of Cheerilee’s.

‘I burnt down the school.’ Cheerilee managed deliriously.

‘What?’ Crackle asked with his typical raised eyebrow,

‘I burnt it down… They died… I killed them.’ Cheerilee whispered, falling in and out of consciousness between words.

‘That’s lovely Cheerilee, but do you know who or what the Aberration is?’ Crackle inquired, resting his hooves on Cheerilee’s forelegs. ‘This can end. All of it. The pain, the guilt. Just tell me.’

‘I know who the Aberration is.’ Cheerilee whispered almost inaudibly.

Crackle leaned mere centimeters away from Cheerilee’s face, allowing his ear to face her mouth.

‘I didn’t hear that.’ he whispered with all the kindness of a manticore

Cheerilee opened her mouth to speak. Her eyes shot open, and she clamped her jaws shut on her captor’s ear, ripping and tearing at the sinew.

A howl of agony escaped Crackle’s lips as a he attempted to pull away from the mare’s vice grip, only worsening the damage.

‘Dumb whore!’ Crackle screamed through his agony.

With an audible rip, Crackle tore himself free from Cheerilee’s grip, tearing his ear off in the process. Sheer agony wracked his body, as he thought his way to his hooves. Cheerilee struggled desperately in the Throne of Thorns before a hefty hoof collided with her jaw, shattering her teeth once again.

‘This is going to be great-’ Crackle never finished his sentence. In her jarred, blurry vision, Cheerilee saw a gargantuan pony collide with her captor.

The pair sprawled to the ground, and Cheerilee saw a meaty hoof raise in the air and promptly strike Crackle in what seemed to be his midsection. Suddenly however, her saviour was upended, and sprawled to the ground in pain.

Crackle raised unsteadily to his hooves, and moved to strike who she now identified to be Bulk Biceps but was flung carelessly into one of the basement walls, sending an assortment of torture tools flying. The flurry of metal sliced and cut away at both Bulk and Crackle as the pair steadied themselves.

Brandishing a bloody scalpel, Crackle took a swipe at Bulk’s meaty neck, but slipped atop one of his own silver platters. A meaty hoof connected with the back of his skull, nearly cracking it at the base.

Bulk’s fury grew chaotic, and he lifted Crackle by the scruff of his neck and flung him against another wall, snapping bones and ligaments as he collided with the rough concrete surface.

Crackle struggled to stand before a final, meaty hoof connected with his jaw, shattering it instantaneously and flinging the stallion into a state of unconsciousness.

A bloodied and victorious Bulk Biceps rose from the ruined stallion before him, fury turned into concern as he looked over Cheerilee’s body.

Cheerilee felt herself slipping, and before long, the world around her grew progressively darker.

Words of comfort seemed distant and forlorn.

‘I killed them.’ Cheerilee muttered, before the blackness took her.

Author's Note

The Aberration returns at last!

In many ways, this was my favourite chapter to write so far. I've been busy with exams for a while now, but luckily, the holidays have finally rolled on in, giving me plenty of time to write.

Enjoy!