Chalk! Of all the things that Dr. Straight Arrow needed during soccer practice was CHALK! And he just had to ask him to get it!
Grumbling, Rolo made his way through the school halls. It was after school hours and he’d been attending soccer practice. He wanted to be mad at his mom for signing him up, but after he’d met some friends and enjoyed how his body burned after each session, he simply couldn’t. This was slowly becoming his outlet, a way to blow off life for a while.
That wouldn’t stop him from grumbling behind the backs of his peers for such a stupid task. Maybe Dr. Straight Arrow should bring his own chalk instead of getting a student to find some. Where the heck was he supposed to find chalk anyway?
Rolo laughed at himself for being so grumpy. His grandmother, Ditzy Doo, had taught him the value of laughing at yourself. Laughter alone was a wonderful medicine that he needed no honey to get down.
“The classrooms are all locked because its after school hours! Where am I going to find chalk!” He shouted as quietly as he could. He may be annoyed but he didn’t want his peers to see him as a slacker. Then he’d get kicked off the team.
He jiggled each of the doors, hoping that the security guard simply forgot to lock one of them. He flinched when he felt something sharp cut into his hoof. He’d been moving from his third door, eyeing the doorknob and not noticing the broken window. Wincing, he held back a shout (he couldn’t call himself a man if he cried over a little pain) he saw the glass scattered on the floor. Then he looked up and saw the door itself had been broken into.
In fact, the door might as well have been wide open. It was the same standard, half door, half window variety, and the glass portion had been shattered, making it easy to open it even if it was locked.
A small wave of fear ran down his spine, but with it came a bit of morbid curiosity. Whenever something interesting like this happened during the school day, teachers would swarm, keeping curious students from being nosy. There were no such teachers now, so he’d have free reign to satiate his curiosity to his heart’s content.
Removing the small piece of glass from his hoof, and denying the tears that wanted to spill from his eyes, he carefully walked around the rest of the fallen daggers, opened the door and into the classroom. It turned out to be a biology classroom, specifically his biology teacher Mr. Dapper Spark. Today had been frog dissection day, a good day for him, and he could still smell the ethanol used to preserve the bodies. While he didn’t mind the macbre every now and again, that smell burned his nose for hours after the final bell rang; the smell of sweat the only thing currently overpowering it.
He passed the front desk where Mr. Dapper Spark had showed how to do the Y incision, and checked the chalk board. Indeed, he’d found his prize of three whole pieces of chalk. He grabbed them, planning to head back right away before his mind ripped the idea from his head. He couldn’t waste an opportunity like this!
Smiling, he decided that his peers could wait for a minute more. They were probably playing a mock game anyway, knowing it’s take him a while to find the chalk. Rolo didn’t think they’d leave him out because they were happy he’d left, he was actually pretty good at the game, even earning a little respect from a few of the players. They all knew Dr. Straight Arrow had his moments and needed to rely on the school for supplies, but couldn’t leave twenty teenagers in the gym without something happening.
“Now class” Rolo said in his best impression of Mr. Dapper Spark, “today we will go over the function of the frog’s liver and where to find it.” While he spoke he’d drawn his best frog and put an arrow that pointed to the lower left part of its stomach. He then exclaimed, with a smirk “You will be tested on this!” before turning around to face his “class”.
He’d expected to see empty chairs, ripe for the imaginative student implant, but he saw Mr. Dapper Spark, dead.
Rolo stared at Mr. Dapper Spark’s corpse.
His body lay limp over the first row of black table like desks. His usually fuzzy caterpillar eye brows, that he was oddly proud of, had been shaved off, leaving the look of fear etched on his face a bit off. He had the bulging eyes, bloodshot veins threatening to coat the white of his brown eyes red, but the expression was wrong without the brows. The back of his lab coat had been ripped to shreds, stained red with blood.
Getting a closer look, he found that there were cuts, long and deep and very many, on his back. The blood didn’t scare Rolo, but fascinated him. He tried to imagine what it might of felt to have something sharp dig into his back, and stopped, but only after a few scenes played out in his mind.
All of which had to do with a surprise attacker.
It was then that he looked around the room. Nothing out of place, the tables, the cabinets were exactly the same as it had been when he left after the dissection. He turned back to his dead teacher and wondered what to think. Should he had been afraid? Will he have nightmares about this? He didn’t feel any kind of nausea, nor fear. Maybe that sort of thing came later? He didn’t feel any kind of adrenaline at the dead body. All of this concerned him.
The oddest thing was how calm he felt by the sight, like he had during the dissection. There was no pleasure like with sadists, nor any other emotion that might lead to a psychopathy diagnosis, just calm.
Is there something wrong with me?
The thought crossed him with surprising speed. There were many things wrong with him, but he couldn’t bring himself to call it wrong to be calm around dead bodies. While many murders didn’t happen in Ponyville, they did in Manehatten, and the police didn’t mind the bodies there. It was part of their job, kind of like an always changing coworker.
Rolo stared at the body for a few minutes more. The practice was going to be canceled and a full investigation, including stressful interviews, would take place. His mom would undoubtingly send him to the psychologist, but none of that mattered at the moment. He felt a kind of connection with the dead body of his favorite biology professor, like he got to see a side of him no one else could. There was something so honest about death.
What snapped him out of his reverie was but a thought. The blood was relatively fresh, still dripping, meaning the attack had happened recently. The attacker may still be around!
Volts of electrical current shot from his brain. His muscles spasmed as adrenaline and cortisol begun coursing through his body. Fear pushed him past the door and down the hallway toward the gym.
Author's Note
Hello all!
This is something that I have written in the goal of fleshing out the Character of Rolo, temporary name. I will, later on, create a long story with the colt, but I wanna get to know him more before that.
I wish to thank you for giving me some of your precious time
