With the moon peeking through scattered cloud cover, Fluttershy dragged herself back to her cottage. Her legs ached and her wings felt heavy even folded into her side; it had been a long day already, but she knew there was just a bit more left to be done. Saddlebags heavy with supplies and food, she trekked up to the door. Before she could move to open it, however, it swung away to reveal an impatient Angel tapping his foot.
“Oh, I know, Angel,” she said, attempting her usual sweet tone. However, it had a bit less of its charm and an almost ragged edge to it, until it was cut off by a yawn she couldn’t hold back. “Sorry. I just got so caught up with all of the things that I needed to do today.” She made her way past him and to the kitchen, dropping her saddlebags on the floor before stretching her wings.
Angel was undeterred, following at her heels and chittering with each step she took.
“And I got you your food, Angel, yes,” she replied. Opening one of the bags, she pulled out a small bushel of sweet carrots and set them down on the floor. Angel approached them timidly, glancing back and forth from Fluttershy to the carrots, his grimace slowly fading until he grasped a carrot and started nibbling on it. He made sure to droop his ears and turn his back to Fluttershy in the process, though.
Fluttershy gave him a gentle pat on the head and went back to her bags. Other animals came scurrying out from about the cabin, and Fluttershy treated them each to what they needed. Some quality bird seed for a few sparrows that were nesting at her cottage before they continued their trip out west. A block of swiss cheese for the family of mice whose burrow had collapsed a week ago. Medicine for the injured fox that the Doctor Fauna was too overbooked to house.
Eventually, Fluttershy’s bags were empty of everything except for her own groceries. She dragged them into the kitchen and, as she sorted everything, thought back on the rest of the day. She had helped Twilight and Spike with some research at the library, even if it was only finding some books at the second-hoof shop. Then there was cheering Rainbow Dash on during her flying practice, and working on her own cheering in the process; her voice nearly cracked during it too! And then Rarity and Pinkie had asked for help with decorating a special-order cake, mostly for a delicate hoof at the top of a dozen or so layers.
Despite the work, there was plenty of fun and laughs along the way. Of course, with all of that she had barely made it to the market before it closed. At least not everything was sold out, so with her saddlebags full, she made her way back to the cottage as the sun was—
A jolt of pain shot through Fluttershy’s spine. Dropping a box of tea leaves with a startled yelp, she reached a hoof up to rub at the source on her neck. Angel Bunny came hopping in, still nibbling on one of his carrots with ears drooped. He chittered out something between bites, though Fluttershy didn’t hear it. There was a ringing in her ears, and a dull throb at her temples. She sat back on her haunches to rub at her forehead with her other forehoof.
“I-I’m fine, Angel,” she muttered with a grimace, before putting on as bright a smile as she could manage. “I think this day just took more out of me than I expected.”
After a few moments, the pain in her neck and the ringing in her ears had faded, but the headache wouldn’t leave. Setting the last few items on the counter, planning to put them away in the morning, she set her empty saddlebags by the kitchen door and headed upstairs.
She stopped at the bathroom, taking a few moments to wash her hooves and face before pouring herself a cold glass of water. Downing an aspirin, she took slow sips, letting the chill seep through her cheeks and into the roof of her mouth. While the headache wasn’t going away, at least it didn’t get any worse.
Her eyes fell on the window, looking out at the chicken coop and the forest nearby. The glint of the moon shone through the clouds, and Fluttershy regained her train of thought. “Wasn’t it… light when I left town?”
She closed her eyes, drinking the last gulp of cold water. With one deep inhale and a long exhale, she thought back to the road out of town. The sun had been starting to set, painting the sky with beautiful oranges and reds. Then, she saw a split in the path; it led into the Whitetail Woods. She’d thought about all of the birds and critters that might still be awake, and how wonderful it would be to see them again, to check up on them. But after that…
She scrunched her already shut eyes tighter, her bottom lip curling up beneath her teeth. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t remember anything after that except the path up to her cottage, and the moon already high in the sky.
There was a loud thumping at the doorway, enough for Fluttershy to open her eyes and leave the gap in her memory be. Angel chittered and pointed towards the bedroom, and Fluttershy gave him a nod.
“You’re right, Angel. Some rest is just the thing I need.” With a little bit of her chipper energy returning, she smiled and walked to Angel. She bent a wing down and crouched, letting him hop easily onto her back.
Fluttershy wasted no more time in trotting off to her bedroom, setting Angel in his bed and then crawling into her own. Rolling over to look away from the window and what little moonlight was pouring in, she closed her eyes and tried to sleep.
Fluttershy was in a dark wood. She could barely see the path ahead of her, let alone the trees that lined it or the sky above. However, she could hear leaves rustling and branches creaking in the cold bitter wind that washed over her. She walked on.
Despite the dark, she could tell that a fog had rolled in, restricting her vision even further. The chill grew deeper, biting and clawing at her bones deep beneath her coat. Her warm feathers clung to her barrel, but they couldn’t drive the cold away.
There was the snap of a twig, and the faint feeling that something was watching her.
Startled, she ran.
There was a bump, a crash and suddenly she was on her haunches as a figure rose in front of her. She apologized, though she heard no sound within or without her.
The entire wood was silent.
Eyes looked down at her, deep and silver and… gentle.
A hoof was offered, and then a smile.
She wanted to talk to him.
Why would she, why could she, not?
Fluttershy woke in a cold sweat. She had pulled the covers over her head some time in the night, and could only make out a dull light shining into the room behind her. As her breathing began to slow, the throbbing pain in her forehead returned. A groan escaped her lips, and they felt parched.
She started to turn and throw the covers off, but as soon as she began to face the window and the rising sun, her eyes shut tight. The headache grew, and she pulled the cover back over her head. “Angel…” she muttered, rubbing a forehoof at her temples.
She heard hopping on the wooden floor, and then a gentle thud on the sheets next to her. “Water? Please?” she asked, turning to put her back to the window and her face towards Angel. He gave some chittering in reply, and Fluttershy reached a hoof out from under the covers to nudge at him. “Please, Angel. I think I’m still sick from last night.”
The rolling of his eyes was nearly audible, accompanied by the huff he gave. As he hopped back onto the wooden floor, Fluttershy’s thoughts drifted to the sun shining through the window; her temples throbbed in pain. “And close the curtains too.”
Angel gave a small sigh in reply. Fluttershy heard him hop towards the window, and then the sound of the curtains sliding closed. With the room suddenly dimmer, her headache faded, at least enough for Fluttershy to chance poking her head out from under the covers. “Thank you, Angel,” she mumbled before a cough escaped her dry throat.
As Angel went out into the hallway with a wave of his paw, Fluttershy straightened up, resting against the headboard. Looking down, she saw the sheets were damp with sweat, and her own coat was matted with it. Frazzled bits of her mane waved before her face. Looking over at the mirror on her dresser, she clicked on the bedside lamp to get a better look at her features than the dim light offered.
In addition to her sweat-soaked coat and frazzled mane, she could see that her eyes were sunken and almost bloodshot. “Oh my,” she muttered, hoof prodding at her face to ensure from the reflection that it really was her. “Maybe I didn’t sleep well last night. I know I was…”
Once more, as she tried to recall, the memory was gone. She knew she had some kind of restless night, or perhaps even nightmares, but she couldn’t remember anything concrete. There were only flashes, for a moment: a forest and… meeting someone? “They were nice,” she muttered.
When Angel came back with her water, Fluttershy took a long gulp of it, until her throat and lips were no longer dry. She placed the glass down on her nightstand, hooves fidgeting at the covers near her barrel. “I think I need to get some more rest, Angel. Can you make sure everyone gets their food?”
As Angel began to protest in chitters, Fluttershy simply smiled and leaned down towards him. Glancing left and right as if to ensure no one else could listen, she whispered, “I’ll tell you where I put more of those sweet carrots.”
Angel’s protesting stopped, and he ran downstairs as quickly as he could. With a laugh, Fluttershy began to sink back under her covers, only to notice a faint ray of sunlight in the hallway. It began to inch, ever slightly, towards the bedroom door.
The pain in her forehead returned.
Slinking out of her bed for only as long as it took, she shut the door tight.
There was no sound; not the snapping of twigs, the scurrying of wildlife nor even the crunch of leaves beneath her hooves.
There was no chill. Though her feathers danced across her coat, there was no warmth.
She was running, and then not.
The figure was there.
He held out a hoof.
He was so nice, so welcoming.
She took it, walking alongside him in the dark wood.
Despite the thick canopy above them, the lack of moonlight or sunlight shining through, she could see him clearly.
A wry warm smile. Cold Kind eyes. Sallow Golden coat. Bitter Gentle tone.
Though she heard nothing, she knew him. She trusted him.
Fluttershy woke slowly. She felt a withering fatigue seep through her limbs and coil into her chest as she pushed the covers off of her face. With the curtains drawn on her window, the faint glow of sunlight tried to force its way into her room to no avail. Her eyes squinted at it, just before another throb of pain rippled through her forehead.
A dry cough escaped her throat, and she turned away from the window to grab the glass of water on her nightstand. She paid no mind to the ring of moisture it left on the wood, or that its temperature had gone tepid overnight. Taking one long drink, her hooves shaking, she felt her aching, parched throat relax, and the pain in her forehead subside.
Setting the empty glass back down, she was ready to lay down and rest more, until she heard a heavy knock at the front door downstairs. She didn’t move to leave her bed, choosing instead to stare at her bedroom door in the dark. However, she couldn’t keep her ears from perking up.
There was a faint voice, and some chittering that she guessed was Angel. Her eyes drifted to a clock on the wall near the door. It took a few moments of squinting before she could read the time as just after eleven. The feeling that she’d forgotten something dawned on her.
The front door shut, and then she heard hoofsteps coming up the stairs. More chittering and the scampering of lighter steps on the wood followed them. The voice came into focus despite being muffled by the walls; it was crystal clear and proper, but with an underlying tone of understanding to her words. “Angel, dear, I’ll just be a minute. I want to make sure Fluttershy is alright is all.”
The door creaked open, letting in the faint light from the landing. Rarity peeked her head in, then let out a curt cough to clear her throat. “Fluttershy, darling? Are you awake?”
Fluttershy straightened up in bed, tugging the covers up to her barrel. Through the frayed strands of her mane over her face, she tried her best to smile. It broke in seconds from a cough. “Yes, Rarity. I’m so sorry I forgot about our spa day.” She pulled her covers up higher, lowering her head in an attempt to hide behind her mane and the sheets.
Rarity opened the door just enough to move inside, and Angel hopped in beside her. She crossed the room with grace, clicking her tongue slightly as she shook her head. “Oh, nonsense, Fluttershy. I’ll not hold a missed day together against you when you’re clearly under the weather.” As Rarity got closer, she recoiled, her smile cracking ever so slightly. “Have you… had a chance to take care of your mane at all? It looks uuuuunder-maintained.”
Fluttershy let the covers fall, bringing a hoof up to push her mane aside. “Oh, no. I’ve been trying to get some bed rest. Angel has been helping so much to take care of the other animals and bring me food though.” She gave a smile to the rabbit, who hopped up onto the sheets sporting a smug grin. The smell of carrots wafted up to her as she pet him.
Rarity’s full smile returned as she flipped her mane, raising a curl with her hoof. “Well, I simply must offer to postpone my spa visit to help you then. We can have our relaxing spa day here.” Fluttershy tried to object, but Rarity was already walking to the door. “I’ll be back in a few minutes with some tea for the both of us.” She paused, looking at Angel, “And I’ll not get in Angel’s way. In fact, you won’t even need to leave bed!”
Left alone with Angel, Fluttershy was content to continue petting him for a few moments, until another dry, hard cough escaped her throat. Angel glanced to the empty glass and, with only a bit of chittering to himself, jumped and grabbed the glass before bounding off into the hallway. “Angel’s doing too much,” she mumbled, letting out a sigh. “Maybe a little help from everypony else would give him a break.”
Angel came back with a glass of cold water, just as Fluttershy heard the hiss of a tea kettle from downstairs. Fluttershy bent down to accept it, taking slow, delicate sips while she waited. By the time Rarity returned, Angel had bounded off to—Fluttershy hoped—help the other animals.
Setting down a tray with two small teacups and a still steaming kettle on the bed, Rarity asked for Fluttershy to turn and face the window. Clicking on the bedside lamp, her hooves and magic tugged at the strands of Fluttershy’s frazzled mane. The two talked about how Rarity’s business had been going, and some of the animals that Fluttershy was caring for. Fluttershy took her cup of tea in her hooves, holding it close to her chest to feel the heat of it seep into her hooves and barrel.
“It isn’t anything too serious, is it, Fluttershy?” Rarity finally asked.
While Fluttershy took gentle sips of tea, she felt an odd rumbling in her belly. She thought back to the restless first night, to her lethargy and fever, to the headaches and the sunlight. Even now, she avoided the faint glare through the curtains. “I’m not sure. I hope it isn’t. If some rest doesn’t help, I’ll be sure to go to the hospital.”
As Fluttershy moved to place her empty cup back on the tray, she didn’t turn to look at it. When her hoof grazed against the tea kettle, it was scalding hot, and she dropped her cup suddenly before pulling her hooves back to her barrel. Rubbing at her hoof, she didn’t notice a burn; at least she didn’t have to add that on to her issues.
“Rarity?” she asked, hooves fidgeting in her lap. “Do you… think you can ask the others to come over? It wouldn’t hurt to have company, or somepony to help take care of the animals with Angel while I’m sick.”
Rarity grabbed a few hairpins from Fluttershy’s dresser, using them to keep the pegasus’s mane parted into a few strands before twisting them together. “Of course, dear. I’ll see how their schedules are and I’m sure they’ll be delighted to help!” She held up a small mirror for Fluttershy.
For a moment, Fluttershy thought she looked healthier. She smiled.
She walked with the stallion for minutes. Or perhaps it was hours.
There was no sunlight or moonlight to gauge the time with.
His words went on and on, though Fluttershy couldn’t hear them.
Still, she knew they were sweet and kind.
She felt a warmth swelling within her, fighting off the breeze. It radiated from her chest to her hooves and through her wings back into her barrel. In a circle, on and on, it flowed and pulsed.
Her breaths became quicker, and her heart pounded harder. She had to gasp for air to fill her lungs. And when she came to a stop, she felt his hoof on her shoulder.
It was bitterly cold, and all the warmth fell away.
The next day, Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie stopped by in the morning. Dash said that a few storms were coming in that day, and so her weather duty was relaxed, while Pinkie just wanted to help. It was the first time since that night that Fluttershy could look at the curtains without her head hurting. Through them, there was nothing but a faint grey of storm clouds filtering in.
Fluttershy was actually starting to feel better, almost like how she looked after Rarity’s visit, and so she’d left her bedroom to relax with the two downstairs. As Dash flew here and there, trying to tend to the animals, chase down Angel or both, she sat across from Pinkie. When their conversation about Gummy ended, Pinkie pulled out a box from her saddlebags.
“I know it’s short notice, but I got as many of them made as I could last night!” She popped open the box, and there were a dozen cupcakes arranged inside. Each one had a different colored cake and frosting pair. One was a bright orange cake with a gentle golden swoop of cream. A second was a light blue cake with brash rainbow icing.
Fluttershy giggled and pulled out a yellow cake with delicate, soft pink frosting. “They look so cute, Pinkie, but you didn’t have to go to so much effort for me.”
Pinkie waved her hoof and blew a raspberry, lifting an extra cupcake that matched her own coat and mane. “It’s the least I could do, Fluttershy. You should be able to have all your friends here, even if they’re tasty treats. Oh, I even made them our favorite flavors. Applejack’s is obviously apple, and…”
As Pinkie went on, Fluttershy bit into her cupcake. A floral taste danced on her tongue, a mixture of tea and some kind of biscuit she couldn’t quite place. Another bite with frosting added a hint of vanilla and strawberry to the taste. Her smile widened as she savored the flavors. “Pinkie these are delightful.”
Pinkie opened her mouth, tossing her cupcake inside and chewing loudly. “Yuh, minfh chacolath an maw chacolath!”
Fluttershy laughed as a few crumbs landed on her face from Pinkie’s ravenous eating, which she quickly wiped away.
However, when she went to finish her cupcake in delicate bites, Fluttershy’s stomach began to rumble and clench, twist and churn despite being filled. She took a long sip of water and tea in an attempt to calm it, to no avail.
His hoof on her chin, dragging her head up, felt like a frigid, jagged rock. She wanted to pull away, to feel the warmth.
But then she saw his eyes again, deep and boundless. The warmth returned, or perhaps the cold simply faded.
There was nothing to feel.
He leaned towards her.
Twilight and Spike came by the next day, while it was storming outside. Safe from the distant thunder and the patter of rain on the window, she read a few books on rare animals of Equestria and beyond that they’d brought for her. Twilight pointed out some more interesting specimens, while Spike and Angel argued over who was in charge of caring for the critters that needed it.
Fluttershy took a long drink of water before clearing her throat. “Angel, please don’t argue with Spike. He’s just here to help.”
The rabbit grumbled and tapped a foot on the floor as Spike ran off to the kitchen to fetch more supplies.
“Are you sure you’re doing alright, Fluttershy?” Twilight asked, pouring another glass of water from the pitcher. “You said your fever has gone down, but you still don’t look well.”
Fluttershy’s mane was still frazzled, and from her eyes it was obvious she didn’t get much sleep the night before. Her temperature was fine, but her stomach was always twisting and turning, begging to be filled no matter what or how much she ate. Of course, she didn’t raise that point to Twilight or anypony else. She didn’t want them to worry over nothing. She had to get better.
“I might go to the hospital when the weather clears up in a day or two. Is Applejack going to be able to come visit?”
Twilight sighed and shook her head. “No, she said her family is too busy with the harvest. Oh, she did ask me to give these to you.” She pulled a small bundle of apples out of her saddlebags, setting them down on the couch next to Fluttershy. “She picked them just the other day. Best of the harvest so far—her words, not mine—so of course she wanted you to have them.”
Fluttershy smiled wide and grabbed one. It looked so full, bright and red, and clean enough that she could see her reflection in it. “That’s just so kind of her, of all of you.” She leaned forward, wrapping her hooves about Twilight.
The unicorn laughed and gave a sheepish smile, gently patting Fluttershy on the back before they broke the hug. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask. It’s what friends are for.”
Fluttershy took a large, crunchy bite. The juice and flavor filled her mouth, and she leaned back, savoring every moment of it. She opened her mouth to say something, only to let out a yelp of pain as she bit down on her lower lip. Dropping the apple, she pulled her hooves to her mouth, and they came away tinted with red.
“Are you alright?!” shouted Twilight, pressing a tissue against Fluttershy’s mouth.
Fluttershy cradled the tissue against her face, giving a gentle nod as she shut her mouth tight. The taste in her mouth grew richer, deeper, sweeter. She swallowed the apple, but the sweetness never left. It seared itself into her tongue.
There was light now. Sunlight. Sunset.
In it, she saw a flash. A glint. A warning.
Whatever part of her screamed to run wasn’t loud or fast enough.
Her vision faded, as did the warmth within her.
Fluttershy awoke in the night, rain now pummeling the windows. Her body was drenched in sweat. She groaned and shifted about under the covers, but as soon as she moved the pain began.
It started in her stomach. A bile bubbled, foaming and threatening to void what little food and liquid she’d downed the entire day in an attempt to quiet her belly. A searing heat spread from her belly to her wings, which shuddered and shook. She heard snapping as they flexed beneath the covers, feathers clinging and sticking to her sweat-soaked fur.
Her entire body started burning up, heat welling in her chest, seeping out to the covers and then radiating back into her. She tried to throw the sheets off, but her legs felt weak, and they began to spasm uselessly with the slightest movement.
She clenched her teeth and eyes shut, in a hope that she was suffering some nightmare. There was a jolt of pain in her mouth, and then the sweet taste returned, stronger than before.
She craved it. She needed it.
Her tongue rolled about, searching for more until it found the scalding source. In moments, the craving was gone. Her stomach quieted, sated. Her body became still.
She closed her eyes, trying to sleep and forget.
Yet it all finally came back in terrifying, crystal clarity.
Angel sat at the door of Fluttershy’s room, tapping his foot as he looked at the clock on the wall. It had been two days since Twilight and that insufferable Spike had visited, trying to upstage his efforts. At least when Dash helped she had been quick about it, like ripping off a bandage; she wasn’t one to stop him from sneaking a snack or three too.
The storm had cleared, and Fluttershy’s headaches started the dawn after, growing worse by the hour it seemed. No more of her friends came, though part of him didn’t hold it against them. It was up to him to help her now. She needed him.
He heard a chirping from above, looking up to see a trio of birds holding a pitcher of water in their talons. He simply tapped the glass beside him, and they poured it before dropping the pitcher on the landing. They didn’t wait there, instead quickly flying back downstairs with a cacophony of squawks. With a disgruntled chitter, Angel turned to the door. It loomed over him, and despite being just as it ever had, nothing more than a door, he felt a chill run down his spine. He took a breath, fighting back shivers before pushing open the door.
The door creaked open, revealing the dark beyond, which the light on the landing only pushed back by inches. A faint stench began to waft out: a mixture of sweat and something that reminded him of winter and death. Despite the dark, he was unafraid; there was nothing between the door and the bed after all, since Fluttershy refused to leave. Glass in his paws, he bounded step by step to her bedside. Giving a low chitter to the clump of sheets on the bed, he waited.
There was no reply, and so he jumped onto the edge of the bed, setting the water down on the nightstand and nudging at the sheets. His chittering grew louder, and finally Fluttershy stirred beneath them.
“Angel,” she muttered, her voice raspy and deep.
He gave a chitter in the affirmative, hopping next to the glass and tapping his foot loudly. Rather than pull the covers back, Fluttershy twisted beneath them. In the dark, Angel could make out her complexion.
Her hair had grown coarse and darker by shades. Her coat had faded, barely even recognizable as yellow. Her eyes were bloodshot, with bags beneath them despite the fact that she barely kept them open. She offered a smile, though to an inattentive eye it would seem like her lips hadn’t moved at all. Angel held out the glass to her, and she leaned over to take a long, slow sip.
Once she pulled away, Angel did as well.
“Thank you, Angel,” she mumbled, closing her eyes and nuzzling against her pillow.
Setting the glass down, he waited, rubbing his arm with a paw. Looking over his shoulder, he could see other critters gathering at the doorway, waiting. Even from afar, he could see their bodies shaking, fighting between instincts. He was bolder than them, he could quiet that nagging voice in his head that told him to leave every time he came to her door. He had to for her. Angel gave a chitter, asking Fluttershy to get help.
She didn’t open her eyes. Shaking her head, she let out a groan. “I-it’s fine, Angel. I just… need more rest, okay? I-I can’t go outside, not right now.”
His voice rose, and he stamped his foot on the nightstand.
Fluttershy shut her eyes tighter, clenching her teeth. Angel froze as she did, that instinct screaming at him to run, despite every intent he had to help Fluttershy. In a sliver of light from the hallway, as she tossed over to turn away from him, he could see fangs.
“I’m fine!” she shouted, tugging the sheets and quilt to her tighter. Angel’s ears twitched, picking up her muttering: “I won’t hurt them. I won’t hurt them. I won’t. I won’t. I won’t…” She took a ragged, deep breath, and let it out with the word that followed.
“Feed.”
Angel dashed to the door as quickly as he could, shutting it behind him.
Everything had blurred together for Fluttershy. From dreams in the woods to memories of a sunset and back to the cottage and her dark, comforting room.
Throughout it all, a voice inside of her wouldn’t stop. It wanted only one thing, to feed. Whenever she woke, she clung to her covers, burrowed herself deeper inside of them and told herself she wouldn’t.
She’d stopped trying to take what food and water was left for her; the food would not sate her hunger, and the water had long ago stopped easing the twisting and churning of her stomach. How long it had been since anyone visited escaped her.
The dark woods with the stallion became the hallway with Angel became a fork in the road. The quick path to her cottage, or a winding stroll through the woods. She turned towards her cottage, for the first time in memory.
Fluttershy awoke in her bed, looking up at the ceiling. The covers were gone, and there was a mixture of crickets chirping and owls hooting flittering in from outside. Slowly, she sat up, looking to the mirror on her dresser. In the dark, she could barely see her reflection. She slid out of bed.
It was then that she noticed her fever was gone, and that any aching she’d felt the past few days in her wings and legs had vanished. Even the taste—that strange, intoxicating, delicious taste—was nothing but a memory.
Trotting over to the dresser, she got a clearer look at herself. Her coat was a pristine, vibrant yellow. Her pink mane was unfrazzled, and as she reached a hoof up to stroke it, it felt smooth to the touch. She thought back to the forest, and the stallion that she’d met. Leaning closer, she wanted to open her mouth, but she felt her lips tremble in response.
There was a clang from downstairs. Fluttershy twisted her head towards the bedroom door and perked her ears up. It was then that she noticed the door was wide open, and a faint light, tinted red, was on the other side.
Her body started to shiver in a mixture of fright and, strangely, anticipation. She clenched her teeth, shut her eyes and swallowed a growing lump in her throat. Taking a deep breath, she crept to the doorway.
The rest of the house was quiet and dark, except for the red light; it came from the kitchen downstairs. As she watched it, waiting, it began to move about joined by the sound of something rummaging.
She took off from the landing, flying downstairs slowly. That same shivering threatened to creep back out from her barrel, but she fought to keep it under control. With every flap of her wings, every inch she made in progress towards the kitchen, she started to hear a thump. It began low.
Thump.
A distant, steady beat far beyond the walls of the cottage and deep within the woods.
Thump.
When she landed, still feet away from the kitchen, it was as if someone were shifting about on the roof of the cottage. It was a noise she was all too familiar with when flocks of birds stopped on their migrations to rest. The light in the kitchen began to hum, growing brighter and then dimmer in time with the slowly rising tempo.
Her mouth finally opened, and she chanced to let out what she knew she should have shouted from upstairs. It came out in a choked whisper. “Who’s there?”
There was a retching pain in her throat, as some bile threatened to bubble its way up from her stomach. She covered her mouth with a hoof, coughing into it until the pain subsided. As she did, the rummaging stopped, and the red light began to dim.
The thumping only grew louder, closer, faster.
The shivering became impossible to fight back with every step, her legs and wings jittering and shaking. “W-who’s there?” she spat out, and the red light began to grow brighter, as if to challenge her.
The thumping sounded as if it were in her head, drowning out the noise of whatever was in the kitchen. With it came a pain, dull at first and then as if a drill were boring its way into her skull. She recoiled back, clutching her forehead with a hoof and shutting her eyes tightly. The glare of the red light grew, shifting out of the kitchen and moving in front of her. It pulsed and brightened with the noise beating against her ears. It was getting closer, burning her eyelids.
Thump, thump.
It was going to hurt her.
Thump, thump.
It was going to stop her, bring it all back. The pain. The hunger. The forest.
Thump, thump.
Her vision became only red, and she knew she had to act as soon as she felt it tugging at her barrel. She lunged, hooves moving to grab it, even as her eyes remained shut. She felt it squirming in her grasp, trying to fight back, but she was the one fighting. The world spun, as if she had been laying down and bolted upright. She held it against the floor.
Thu-thump, thu-thump, thu-thump, thu-thump.
She wouldn’t let it control her.
Thu-thump.
She wouldn’t let it consume her.
Thu-thump.
As if on instinct, she opened her mouth and bit down. It squirmed against her lips, hammering against her muzzle. It was hot and strong and delicious.
The thumping stopped.
The cottage was filled with squeaks and squawks and bleats and the sounds of scurrying feet and flapping wings. Closer, just beneath her, she heard him squealing and pleading through choked gasps.
… Angel?
Her eyes opened. It was dark, the red light was gone. No, it had never been there.
The covers clung to her body, sweat soaking her fur and feathers and mane. She felt the faint heartbeat against her teeth and the taste, sweet and terrible, on her tongue. Angel lay on the floor, just beneath her. His face was frozen in terror, blood staining his fur. He twitched once, twice and then stopped. His paws fell limp to the floor.
Tears rolled down her cheeks, and she managed to unhook the crimson-tainted fangs from his neck. She scrambled backwards, hooves clinging to her mouth as she gasped for air and stared at his lifeless carcass. Sticking her tongue out, she frantically tried to scrape that horrid, terrible taste from it. But it was rich, sweet and delicious; she despised it. Muffled, a spree of no’s escaped her lips between gasps and cries.
She shut her eyes, but the image of his body was burned into her eyes, into her mind. She sat there, crying until the tears were spent and there was nothing but the silent, empty cottage about her.
All throughout it, within her head like the thumping, came a primal, terrible voice that she dreaded to think was her own.
“It tasted so wonderful, didn’t it? Don’t you want more? Don’t you need more?”
“I’m not a monster. I’m not you. I didn’t ki—” The bile rose once more in her throat when she tried to look at Angel.
“You did. It is what you are now. It’s what you need. It’s simply your nature now”
“That’s not who I am! I wouldn’t hurt animals, kill animals.” When her mouth began to fill with spit, enough that the taste of blood touched her tongue once more, she spat it out as quickly as she could. She stood up, throwing off the covers and galloping to the bathroom. Turning on the lights, she stared into the mirror to see what she truly was.
Her mane was a mess once more, having faded to a greyish pink. Her coat was sallow, a sickly yellow with patches of it missing on her neck and barrel. Beneath her bloodshot eyes were heavy bags, and her face was stained with red that instantly made her sick. She attempted to void her belly in the sink, but nothing came.
Sitting on the bathroom floor, she curled up into a ball, crying once more into her mane and legs. The voice came back stronger, as if emboldened by her revulsion.
“Go to the woods. Hunt. Feed. Survive. You want, you need more blood. More power. So much power left to be learned. Take it for your own!”
Fluttershy clamped her hooves down on her ears, but it did not stop the voice. “I won’t, I won’t, I won’t, I won’t, I won’t…” she repeated over and over to drown it out. Eventually, the voice quieted, snarling and screaming to be heard until it faded at last. Taking slow breaths, her voice unwavering, she muttered to herself.
“I won’t live like a monster. I won’t hurt animals. I won’t hurt… ponies. I won’t do this to anypony.”
She was certain, resolute.
When the faint chirping of birdsong reached her ears, and dawn peeked through the curtains, she walked downstairs and to the front door. Placing a hoof on the handle, she took one more shaky, deep breath and pushed it open.
Straining to keep her eyes open against the glare of that burning sun, Fluttershy stepped out into a blue, sunny day. She smiled softly, fangs bared and stained with blood as she took in the sights about her: the flowers by her door, still damp with morning dew; the trees gently swaying in a breeze that tickled her face and blew through her hair; the town of Ponyville, just starting to wake in the distance under a bright dawn.
It was all so bright, far too bright and beautiful to witness; her eyes shut tight when the burning pain was too much for her resolve to fight. She opened her wings, preparing to take flight, but every part of her caught aflame in an instant. Despite all her efforts, she couldn’t hold back the screams of anguish that followed.
Fire and warmth suffusing her, she collapsed, burning away to pieces and then ash before the breeze swept her away.
