Red Preserves

by SpyroForLife

Rating: mature
Tags: Gore, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Horror, Violence, Death
Length: 3664

Red Preserves is the daughter of an entomologist and a jam maker, and what she learns about the preservation of animals will serve her well when it comes to applying her special talent.

Red Preserves is the daughter of an entomologist and a jam maker, and what she learns about the preservation of animals will serve her well when it comes to applying her special talent.

Thanks to Darvko on deviantART for the cover!

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Published 2018-05-05 22:30:07 UTC
Last updated 2018-05-05 22:30:07 UTC

1. Red Beginnings

Red Preserves had a happy home life. Both her parents were very supportive of her and provided her with anything she needed. Her mother, Chitin Scale, was an entomologist at Canterlot University. Her father, Grape Jam, mostly stayed at home but made the most delicious jellies and jams, which he usually took out to Ponyville to sell in the market there. It was thanks to him that Red understood the difference between jelly, jam, preserves, and marmalade. She had been named for the subject, her bright red eyes making him think so much of his favorite strawberry preserves, and hence the name stuck.

But she also had a white coat similar to her mother's, so her attempts at learning to cook and make jelly too often ended in her becoming a fruit-colored mess. So as much as she liked her dad's abilities, she ended up spending more time learning about her mom's trade.

Red was fascinated by the study of entomology. There were so many kinds of insects, and many of them were very beneficial to Equestria. She learned how the bees made honey and how their pollen could be used to treat allergies. She learned about butterflies and their migratory patterns. And then, when her mother was sure she could handle it, she learned about how the scientists preserved specimens for study and later exhibition.

“What's wrong with the bug, Mom?” she asked curiously as her mom laid out an insect on a tray.

“It's dead, honey,” she replied.

“Dead?”

“Well yes, that means it's not living anymore. See, us ponies are breathing and walking around, able to see and feel things. But the bug isn't anymore. And it never will again. That's called being dead. Like... like a very long sleep they'll never wake up from.”

“Oh.” Red wasn't really bothered by the concept. She's seen dead things before.

“So, when things die, usually yucky bacteria start eating it. They're these very tiny creatures that we can't see with our eyes, we have to use microscopes to see them.” Chitin gestured to one of the microscopes, which Red has looked at plenty of times before.

“Okay!” she said eagerly.

“The bacteria will dissolve the body and make it very difficult for us to study later,” Chitin explained. “So we have to preserve it so nothing can eat it.”

“Okay, how do you do that?”

“I'll show you.” Chitin pulled over a bottle labeled 'polyester resin' and poured some into a square container. “We mixed this up specifically to preserve bugs in. It's made of a few chemicals but the main one is called epichlorohydrin resin. It is an irritant so try not to touch this.”

Red nodded, leaning in to watch. Then she wrinkled her nose. “Ew, it stinks.”

“Yes, it does. Please stay back. We're in a big room with plenty of ventilation but I still don't want you breathing too much of it.”

Once Chitin had filled the container about halfway, she picked up the insect and gently set it inside.

“So I'm going to put it in here, and then cover it up.” Chitin covered the container with a piece of cardboard. “This is to give the resin time to cure. In five minutes, I'll finish pouring resin over it.”

“So did you find the bug dead or did you make it dead?” Red asked.

Chitin chuckled quietly. “Most of our specimens were found dead. We don't like killing them ourselves.”

“Killing?”

“Yeah. It means making things dead yourself. Whether you step on them, or you cut them so they bleed out, or whatever.”

“Ohh.” Red didn't ask any more questions, but she was very curious about the idea of death. Not being alive was nearly impossible for her to imagine. She wondered what it was like. And did bugs like this know when they were going to die? Or did it just happen?

After five minutes, Chitin uncovered the insect and poured in more of the resin, completely covering it. Then she placed the cardboard back over and said they would need to wait several hours just to make sure it cured properly. In the meantime, she wanted to show Red their butterfly collection.

After a last glance back at the dead bug, Red followed.

Red became very invested in preservation after that. She often collected dead bugs to show her mom, asking her to preserve them for her, and finally Chitin just allowed her to preserve them herself. She walked her through everything, stressing the importance of doing it outside or with the window open, but otherwise was very accepting of her interest.

One day, Red found a gorgeous beetle whose shell seemed to gleam in every color of the rainbow depending on how the light hit it, and she laid down to just watch it walk around.

“I wish you were dead,” she commented. “Then I could preserve you! But I can't while you're still alive.”

The beetle kept wandering along, oblivious to her comments. She crept after it, her tail swishing a bit. She really wanted it for her collection. She had beetles but none were this pretty. Though perhaps... what if she took it anyway?

She didn't think too much about it. She wanted it, but it had to be dead before she could put it in resin. So she picked up a small rock, aimed it, and gave the beetle a firm smash to the head. That wasn't the pretty part anyway.

Immediately its legs splayed out and it collapsed. She nudged it, but other than its legs weakly moving, it didn't respond. She rolled it onto its back and just watched it. As the minutes ticked by, it stopped moving entirely. She beamed and picked it up, galloping back home. She felt kinda bad about it, but it was for research, she told herself.

She began killing more things instead of just letting them die naturally. She got better at it over time. Using her unicorn magic, she would drive a tiny spike of energy through their bodies and kill them instantly. Though it felt natural to kill them, she also regretted it afterward, and felt like preservation was the best way she could honor them.

One day, she encountered a frog. She hopped after it for a while, and then started to think about how it'd look immortalized in clear resin like her other specimens. Then she wondered how easily she'd be able to kill it, and how it would behave when she did. Finally, she decided she didn't have to wonder. She shot her magic through it. Precise after months of use, it easily pierced the frog's chest. But the creature didn't die instantly.

It made several erratic hops, before flailing over and croaking. She watched as blood left its body, before it finally stopped moving and fell onto the ground. She tilted her head. Blood? That was new. Insects didn't seem to bleed. She prodded the wound, and then looked at her hoof. Red blood, just like a pony's, gleamed at her. She had just snuffed out the life of a living creature. She frowned, once again wondering why she was able to kill them so easily, regretting that she did so... but then inevitably doing it again. Was there just something wrong with her? But she couldn't do anything about it now.

She picked up the frog and went home.

As years passed, Red Preserves didn't seem able to find her special talent. While she enjoyed working with her mother studying insects, it seemed that wasn't what she was meant to do, because she never received a cutie mark for it. But she became very talented at it nonetheless, and helped research different insects, even writing papers on some that went on to be included in academic magazines. She learned how to dissect creatures, how to identify the body parts, what every part of their body did. It was all fascinating.

She also kept trying to learn to make jelly like her father, but she wasn't very good at that. No matter what she did, the consistency just didn't turn out quite right. He told her not to worry about it. Some ponies just had a knack for it, and if she didn't, it only meant that perhaps she was meant to do something else. She was determined to find out what that something else was.

Red was ten when she progressed to killing mammals and birds. No longer content with insects, amphibians, and reptiles, she wanted something larger and more complex. It was when she decided to add a mouse to her collection that she made an interesting discovery.

The creature squealed out when she attacked it. The mouse made a high, pained noise as she stabbed through its heart, and she cocked her head as it fell over and went quiet. That was new. She slid the mouse into her bag and went off in search of another. She didn't find one, but the bird tweeting overhead was getting on her nerves. She turned and fired a blast through its wing. It shrieked and fell from its perch, hitting the ground next to her. She watched as it struggled to stand, alarmed chirps escaping its beak.

Her heart started to pound, ears perking. This was amazing. Exhilarating. She had so much power. She could end lives at will, and there was nothing they could do to stop her. She was entranced by those noises, the sheer panic in the little creature's eyes. She could continue it or end it, the power all rested with her.

With a flick of the hoof, Red knocked the bird onto its back. Then she aimed her horn down and fired a laser straight through its eye. It gave a final convulsion before dying. Grinning, she grabbed it and gave it a few tosses. “Can't sing now, can you?” she demanded. “But don't worry, you'll still be useful. You'll be on display for ponies to see for years to come!”

It went into her bag with the mouse, and she continued on her walk, starting to skip. That was what she wanted to do. She wanted to show off all the creatures she's caught, let other ponies see just how good they looked even in death. And thanks to her mom, she knew exactly how to keep their remains perfect for years. If she had these urges to end the life of other creatures, might as well use it for something beneficial, right?

Yet she still didn't receive a cutie mark. She tried to put it out of mind, but her classmates insisted on teasing her for it, calling her a blank flank and joking about how she was going to get a squashed fly or something for a cutie mark. She ignored their teasing the best she could, but she ended up being the very last one in the class to be a blank flank, and even the teacher made snide comments about it.

The breaking point came as she was walking home one day. She had diverted from the usual path to check out the woods for anything new, and a colt had gone in behind her. She was already in a bad mood, as the gelatin she had brought to share at a class party hadn't been very well received. She had worked with Grape Jam to make it and had been very pleased with it, but the others were more interested in cake and ice cream. Upon learning that she had helped make the gelatin, the others had remarked that that was probably why it tasted funny. She had given up on serving it to them at that point, just sighing and returning the knife to her saddlebags.

Now she was being harassed by one of the ponies that had mocked her and she really didn't want to listen to it.

“You're not good at anything but making your stupid frozen bugs,” he said, following too close to her for comfort.

“Well at least my talent isn't being good at hockey, how stupid is that?” she shot back.

“If I get onto a big team then I can be famous!” he boasted.

Red groaned and walked faster, turning over a rock to look for worms. “Just leave me alone.”

“Nah. Face it, Red. You're a dumb little pony who's only talent is apparently still so useless that you didn't even get a cutie mark for it! You should just run off and join the circus when you grow up, a freaky adult blank flank would make tons of money!”

Red snarled and turned around. “Maybe I should preserve you,” she growled, horn lighting up.

The colt paused, then said, “You wouldn't dare.”

“I have noticed a distinct lack of Puck Flys in my collection,” she said, walking toward him. He backed away.

“Don't come near me, you stink of preserving gunk,” Puck shot back.

“You won't need to smell it for too long.” Red grasped her knife where it was hidden in her bag, and yanked it out with magic. She moved far too fast for him to see, and before he could even flinch, she was burying the blade in his chest.

He whinnied, rearing back onto his hind legs and kicking out at her with his front. She grunted as she was slapped across the cheek, and fell back, but didn't release her magic. Puck was panicking, crying out in pain as he backed away from her, before grabbing for the handle of the knife.

“You psycho!” he yelled at her. Just as with all the other creatures she's killed, she found herself leaning in to listen to his noises, eyes widening as she watched him hyperventilate, face contorting with pain.

“I told you to leave me alone,” she said quietly. Was this really happening? Killing animals was one thing but attacking a pony like this...

“I was just teasing! I was just teasing, and you stabbed me!” he shouted. He wrapped a hoof around the knife.

“If you pull it out, you'll die,” Red said quickly. She had to help him, before he-

“It hurts so bad, I'm pulling it out!” He yanked it out. A fountain of blood spewed out, the pressure so high that it actually sprayed across Red's face. She jolted, staring as he screamed and fell over. The pressure soon went down until the blood was merely pouring out, but it was endless, like a waterfall coming over a high cliff face. Puck gasped, taking a few weak steps toward the edge of the road before collapsing.

Red bit her lip, chest heaving as excitement flooded her. This was so much more intense than killing a rabbit or bird. Those anguished expressions, the cries, it was all so incredible and she wanted to hear more. Except... no, she shouldn't want to hear more. But... she did. And he was dying anyway. So... She grabbed for the knife, stabbing him in the gut. He keened, struggling to escape, and she pulled the knife out and stabbed again, aiming for his pancreas. Then the intestines, which she caused to spill out when she yanked the knife back. She was ready to stab again, but then he went limp, eyes falling halfway shut. The light left them, and she stopped. Dead already? But he had hardly put up a fight!

Scoffing, she wiped the blade off on his coat and watched the blood pour out of his body. It ran across the grass, soaking into the ground. If she left him here long enough, perhaps his corpse would attract carrion beetles.

The longer she looked at him though, the more she started to think about what she just did, and her breathing grew ragged. She had just killed a pony. It had felt amazing, but it was wrong. Why was she like this? Why did a crime as heinous as murder come so easily to her? This was a life like hers, that may have gone on to do good things, but no... she had killed him before he ever got a chance.

“I'm sorry,” she whispered, tears running down her cheeks. She started to go, then hesitated. She hasn't heard of many ponies actually killing other ponies, but when they did, it was treated very seriously. It was a crime, one that she would be imprisoned for. She looked back at his body. If he wasn't a pony, then he would make a great display. But she wouldn't be able to get away with that. She stepped back toward him and turned her horn toward the ground, digging a hole.

She spent several minutes digging, before she decided it was deep enough. She threw his body into it with magic, not wanting any part of him to come in contact with herself. Then she tossed the knife in too. It was evidence now. Once they were in the hole, she filled it back in. She patted it down the best she could, and scattered leaves and sticks over it. Hopefully the grass will fill this area back in. But she doubted anyone would come to this particular area of the woods.

As she worked, she thought more about what she just did. There was no doubt that there were bad ponies out there that the world would be better off without. But so many people struggled to actually get rid of them. They felt bad for them, didn't want to cause harm. She could cause harm, it came easily to her, but inevitably she felt bad too. But perhaps it was what she was meant to do. Maybe that was her destiny. To kill malicious creatures before they could hurt others. Regardless of their species.

Red licked her lips off. Puck's blood tasted strange, salty and metallic. But at the same time, it was delicious, reminding her of the allure of red meat. Ponies weren't supposed to eat meat, of course. Too much was bad for them, could make them sick. But she had gotten a taste of it once, and it had tasted much like blood. She had to taste this again. She used magic to clean her face off, and headed out of the woods.

She stopped in her yard, using the water hose to rinse her face off before going inside. When she finally went in, she was greeted by Grape. “How did they like the gelatin?” he asked.

“They didn't like it,” she sighed. “They all wanted to eat cake. They... said it tasted funny, because I had made it.”

He frowned. “Oh. I'm sorry to hear that, but they're just kids, you know how they are. Come on, why don't we get a snack and I can tell you about my secret for making...” He trailed off, looking at her flank. Then he said, “Is that a cutie mark?”

Red's ears went up, and she turned to look at her flank. She hadn't even noticed, but now she saw the image of a steel knife on her thigh, its blade coated with red liquid that looked an awful lot like the blood that had poured out of Puck's body. She looked back at her father. “O-oh, I guess it is. I didn't even realize.”

“A knife? It must be for cooking! Sweetheart, maybe you are destined to be a great cook like me, just not for jam! Though, I wonder what the red is supposed to be.”

Red's heart beat hard, and not out of excitement. It was blood, her mind whispered to her. But she kept a calm expression, and said, “I think it's strawberry or cherry or something. I um... might have gotten it at school. We made sandwiches today and I made peanut butter and jelly.” She held her breath, hoping he believed it.

Grape's face lit up. “Oh, a sandwich maker! Oh that sounds perfect, it could be strawberry, or even ketchup, but it doesn't matter! My little girl's gonna go into the food business just like me!”

“Haha, yeah, of course!” She went to hug him, but stared into space over his shoulder. Her talent was killing. But she hadn't gotten it for killing insects, oh no. She had only received it when she killed that colt and decided she was the only one that could clean up the world's filth. That settled it. That was her destiny, what she was born to do. It was a wretched cross to bear, but she would do it.

She pulled away, and after talking with Grape for a bit, she went to her room. She went through her books, before pulling out one on pony anatomy. As she read, she glanced around at her collection of animals. From the insects to the birds. The reptiles curled up in clear resin, the rodents splayed out. The claws and feathers she's stored in plastic bags and labeled. She wondered if she could preserve an entire pony. What would it take to do that? She would need to research it, but wouldn't that be wonderful? For her to one day have an entire collection of the worst ponies to ever live, with all the details of how she killed them and saved the world? It was a lofty goal, but one she wanted to strive for.

And it didn't just have to be resin preservation. She could let carrion beetles consume their bodies and hang up their skeletons. She could cut them open, pull out their insides, and stuff them. So many possibilities. Immoral? Perhaps. Necessary? Absolutely. And if she had to do it...

She licked her lips, remembering the delicious taste of Puck's blood. Well, she planned to enjoy it. Maybe those bad ponies would have had longer lives to live... but she'll ensure they get it another way. By immortalizing them in her collection. It was for the good of Equestria.