The Girl Under the Doorstep
The child was almost finished digging the waste pit by the time the meat she found had ripened. While her feet continued scooping up earth and tossing it aside, her main pair of hands grabbed the wet animal meat, its insides bulging against the skin. She stabbed the tip of a nail into the meat’s belly and dragged it down its length. Heat and moisture and the smell of ripeness rose up from the slit. The child could barely control herself. It had four sleeps since her littermates and mother and father had died, since she narrowly escaped their den with her life. Since the last time she ate. She was starving.
She tore the long, flexible softer bits on the inside out of the meat and shoved it into her mouth. The feeling of food, after so long, soothed her briefly. When her hunger returned as quickly as it left, she reached into the meat again, scarfing down more of the insides pulled out. This continued until the last of the insides was eaten. With none left, the child moved onto the flesh and bones. As each piece of flesh was devoured, she moved on to the bone she had picked clean before taking another bite of flesh. Her small jaw was too weak to bite into the bones, and she lacked the strength to snap many of them open even with all her arms, but a nearby rock let her crack the bones open and suck them empty.
Before long, all that remained of the meat was its bloodied - despite the child doing her best to lick it clean - skin and the pit the child filled back in to cover up the smell. The child dug another, shallower, wider pit, despite her approaching exhaustion. She lined it with the soft upside-down roots that grew just beyond the edge of her vast shelter until there were enough to form an actual layer, then pushed the bloody side of the skin into the earth until there was enough stuck to the blood to reduce the smell. Flipping the skin over, the child wrapped herself in the furry side and laid down on the strange roots. Her body relaxed, and she waited to fall into a restful sleep.
She started thinking about her parents again instead. The child remembered hearing them die, remembered one of her parents demanding she and her littermates run and not look back. She remembered her mad dig to safety. She remembered she had only made it because her hunters were too busy eating her littermates to give chase. And now she was going to die. She was going to die here, alone. The child cried into the ground again. When she was done, she tried returning to sleep.
Unfamiliar sounds bombarded her all throughout the night. Low rumbles of massive things passing by, strange animals calling out, repetitive noises that couldn’t have possibly come from animals... it all overwhelmed the child. She covered her sensitive ears with the hands of the smaller arms on her back, hoping to block out the noise. She rested for a bit, but eventually the sounds got through to her again and woke her back up. This would repeat until the child started feeling the world warm up.
The odd noises reached a crescendo, then died down. Sounds more familiar to the child, in spirit if not literally, started to replace them. Small animals chirping, people talking to each other; even the rumbling that continued from the night felt oddly comforting now. Feeling the worst had passed, she dedicated her sensitive ears to what these people were saying to each other.
Not that she could understand them, of course. Or even could have understood them. Her whole life had been far away from them, among her own kind. It was just comforting to hear people saying things she knew was pleasant. The child fondly reminisced about the happier times she had with her littermates. Playing, greeting their parents whenever they returned from looking for food, listening to lessons from their parents, keeping each other calm when they accompanied their parents to food…
An animal suddenly started making noises. They were the sounds of a pack hunter who had found prey, or perhaps a guardian that had smelled an intruder. It was loud, whatever it was. And it was running towards the child, over the apparent protests of the people nearby. The child shrieked with panic, and bolted away from the edge of her shelter. Frantically, she started feeling around for ground soft enough to dig into… to hide in…
“Faust, what’s gotten into that dog?!”
“He’s got a scent! Fuck made that sound…!”
“… I got this. You go take care of the dog.”
“Will do. Here, boy! Here! Come! Good boy, good walkies boy…!”
“… Honey, where’s the flashlight? There’s somethin’ under the porch!”
“It’s where it always is, dear!”
“… got a feelin’ I know what that was… Fuck, that smell! Darlin’, call Doc Stable and tell me if those eggs have expired yet! It’s a…”
“Heya little thing. What’cha doin’ all by yourself? Where’s your parents? … Can’t understand a word I’m sayin’, can ya. Got some water here… Faust, you’re thirsty. Hungry too, I bet. What’m I sayin’, of course you are, you’re all skin and bones… Ever had hard boiled eggs before?”
“…ber, you’ll need to bring her in for biweekly sessions with the staff therapist. We’re in uncharted territory here, we have no idea how far raising a ghoul like a normal pony will go.”
“Oh Doc, we got no worries. Dash turned out fine and all, and she’s-”
“Wide awake.”
“Oh my gosh…!”
“Heya kiddo. You sleep well? Sorry ‘bout the cold medicine in the eggs, Doc Stable here-”
“I didn’t know if you could come quietly, or what you might give one of us us if you didn’t.”
“She’s a child, Doc. C’mon, Dash didn’t need to be knocked out like tha-”
“And I won’t be taking those risks because I’m not a soldier!”
“… Paranoid sunova…”
“Doc, ya don’t need to yell. The poor thing’s been dead silent the whole time, she’s probably scared outta her wits. Ya told us everything, can we just take this darling little girl home now?”
“Just some final paperwork before this study can officially begin… You already got a name for her in mind, Mrs. Crumbles?”
“Rarity. Her name’s Rarity.”
Author's Note
Hi-ho. Finally, at the end, come down with the urge to commit one of my ideas to fanfic. Actually been kicking this one around for a good while.
This is my first time actually writing a fanfic. pls no bully, I want to git gud.
“I waited at that train station for five hours!”
“But darling, your letter told me to meet you at the castle!”
“That letter was for your twin sister!”
In her bedroom, Rarity’s ear twitched. Try as she might, she never was able to stay asleep when her parents had other people over. Usually it was Mister Doctor Stable, or Miss Doctor Slip. But this was a lot of people she’d never heard before. Were they with a band? There was a lot of music. And her parents weren’t talking. Usually they talked a lot with their guests, especially when they were all talking about her.
While she continued clutching her other pillow tightly, Rarity’s second left arm was brought to her chest. In its hand was Opalescence, her best friend in the world. “Opal, are Mom an’ Dad okay?” she asked the fluffy stuffed animal. She held Opal closer to her ear and paused to hear her. “You’re right, I’m silly. They’re good.” Rarity wasn’t quite sure she believed herself, but decided she’d feel better if she read some of her-those things with words on them-books.
Letting go of the pillow, Rarity gently peeled back her covers with her main hands and got out of her bed, Opal still in tow. Walking the well-rehearsed path to her bookshelf (Was that what Dad called it? A bookshelf?), she felt around for something that would relax her. Brumby and the Cloneasaurus? Too hard for right now. Little Jakey Pleasenthanks? Easy, but not relaxing enough. There’s a Vampire in This Book: Starring Damp Eel? She was scared enough already. My Tiny Gecko: Ray’s Big Day? Perfect. Her comfort reading picked out, Rarity returned to her bed and got back under the covers just as delicately as she got out. She didn’t want to go through all the trouble of not messing them up to get out only to ruin it all by rushing back on, after all.
Before getting into her reading, Rarity felt around for the part of the book she was supposed to start reading from (The cover). All four of her shoulders relaxed as she found it and felt the faces of Ray and his friends. Calmed by the thought of what was to come, she opened to the first page and put a finger to the letters. As she started down the line, she brought Opal’s paw up to the page so she could read with her. “I never readed you this before,” the ghoul told the stuffed animal. “I shoulda readed you this before The Magician and the Snake, it’s a lot funnier.” Rarity continued going through the story, stifling a giggle every few pages, only to stop and frown at the part where Ray blows a giant bubble with his gum and floats away on the wind with it. “Why was that king in that a monkey, Opal?”
By the time Rarity (and Opal) got to Ray meeting the Garbage Ape, her confusion over her parents’ silence had been completely forgotten. All that was left was the warm, fuzzy feeling of reading about Ray showing up in time for his friends’ concert and the warm fuzzy feeling of reading a new book to Opal. “That was good. Did you think that was good?” Rarity asked Opalescence. Squeezing her tighter, Rarity’s attention returned to the music coming from where her parents would speak with her doctors sometimes. It was awfully soothing, now that she wasn’t thinking about anything else, warm and soft. Sleep had finally started catching up with her. Rarity yawned, and slid further under her covers. Laying her head on her pillow, she brought Opal to her mouth and kissed her on the forehead. “G’night, Opal…” Rarity mumbled as she started drifting into sleep.
“Sound the alarms! The camp is on fire!” a man shouted.
Rarity jolted up in bed with a squeak. I’m gonna lose my parents again. She would cry, but she didn’t want to draw any more attention to herself than she already had. Trembling as she held Opal tightly, Rarity quietly scuttled towards her bedroom door. She softly pushed it, careful not to make even the slightest creek, then crawled out of her room the moment it was open enough for her to slip through.
Rarity’s heart beat out of her chest as she made her way to the bathroom, towards the scent of shampoo and soap. I can’t dig fast enough to escape in the backyard, but the bad guys are in the living room. I gotta hide until they’re gone. I gotta hide under the sink. I can fit in there and let the smells cover my smell. Rarity swallowed some sobs, then reached up feeling for the doorknob. Slowly, quietly, she turned it, and slowly, quietly, she pushed the door open. By the time she started opening up the door under the sink though, she paused. Over the shouting coming from elsewhere in the house, she heard music again. Music, and some of the mysterious guests talking. “Opal?” Rarity whispered to the stuffed cat. “Opal… I think Mom an’ Dad are okay.”
Rarity quietly crawled towards the living room. She couldn’t hear any intruders, but she was still calming down and wanted to be safe. Wait… Rarity sniffed around. She couldn’t smell any intruders either. She couldn’t smell anyone but her parents. “Mom? Dad?” she called out.
“Rarity?” replied her mom. Shortly after, the music and shouting abruptly stopped.
Rarity bolted in the direction of her mother’s voice. “Mom, you okay?”
“Rarity, sweetheart, we’re fine,” came the reassuring voice of her dad.
“But… that man talked about a campfire, an’ incoming morders, an’-”
“Rarity, please get on the couch with us,” said her mother. “Your father an’ I should have told you this earlier tonight.”
Rarity started scuttling over to her parents.
“Hands off the ground, little lady. Like we’ve been practicin’.”
Rarity started walking over to her parents. After reaching them, she felt around for a spot on the couch that they weren’t occupying. Upon finding one and settling into it, the ghoul child let out a long sigh, setting Opal on the table as she did. “What did you wanna tell me?”
“Rarity,” her father started, “we didn’t have anyone over. We were watchin’ a movie.”
“What’s a movie?”
“… A movie’s like… a movie is like your read along books, but instead of a book…”
“Like what, Dad?” Rarity replied, tapping her clawed fingertips together as a cold sweat started building up on her forehead.
“A movie’s like a read along book, but it’s also got a part you need to…” Time slowed to a crawl as what her father wanted to say stuck in his throat. “See.”
“… Oh.” Rarity wrapped all four arms around herself and lay down, burying her face in the couch. A soft, warm hand settled between her shoulders and started to massage her back.
“Rarity,” came her mother’s voice. “You can still listen to movies with us.”
“Could you tell me what’s happenin’, if I listen to a movie?” Rarity asked, her arms relaxing as the need to hug herself subsided.
“Of course, dear. Honey, you okay if we watch this one from the top, with our daughter?”
“You betcha,” Rarity’s father replied to his wife. After a momentary silence, soft music started playing.
“Darling, do you need any help getting into that drysuit?” came one of the people Rarity heard earlier. Rarity didn’t know why, but something about her voice made Rarity smile to herself.
