New Faces

by Some Leech

Rating: teen
Tags: My Little Pony: A New Generation, Horror, Tragedy, Gore, Izzy Moonbow, Death, Thriller, Sunny Starscout
Length: 4412

Absolutely enchanted with her colorful new friends, yet relieved that her little adventure had come to a gratifying end, Sunny decides to spend some time with one of her new friends...

Never in her wildest dreams would Sunny have thought she'd meet a unicorn, unify the three pony tribes, and overthrow a power-crazed despot, yet she'd done all three over the span of less than a week! With the excitement of her adventure behind her, and a bright future ahead, her outlook on life couldn't be better - sure, she may have lost her house, but that just meant she'd get to spend plenty of time with Izzy, her new friend...

Artwork by Aer0Zer0 (Twitter @Aer0Zer0Ri2k)

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Published 2022-01-28 21:40:07 UTC
Last updated 2022-01-28 21:40:07 UTC

Old Friends

As Sunny admired her friend’s warm, comfortable living room, a contented sigh escaped her. The last week had been positively wild, quite possibly the craziest time she’d ever had, yet everything had worked out for the best - well, for the most part. Though she’d reunited the earth ponies, unicorns, and pegasi, not to mention returning magic to the land, she’d lost her family home in the process. Ordinarily speaking, she would have been utterly heartbroken to have the lighthouse destroyed - fortunately for her, there were several wonderful ponies who were more than happy to let her couch surf for a while.

“Thanks again for letting me stay a few days,” she called, looking to the doorway leading to a small, comfortable kitchen.

“Nuh-uh,” a chipper voice shot back, “thank you for coming to stay for a while. It’s been ages since I’ve had anypony stop by for more than a few minutes.”

Sunny couldn’t help but smile, seeing the cheerful unicorn trot into the room. She hadn’t known what to expect when the unicorn had wandered into Maretime Bay, being just as surprised as everypony else in town, yet she thanked her lucky stars that they’d crossed paths. In a matter of mere days, she’d discovered more about the world than she could have ever dared dream of, and she felt certain that her father would have been just as excited as she had been.

As Izzy trotted closer, magically levitating a pair of teacups in her magical grasp, her mood grew tainted. It wasn’t uncommon for Argyle to go off on his little expeditions, sometimes being gone for days or weeks at a time, yet she hadn’t seen him in years. Everypony assumed the worst, and she’d long since accepted that he may never return home, but some part of her held on to a glimmer of hope.

“Something the matter?” Izzy hummed, her voice tinged with the slightest bit of concern.

Reaching out and taking one of the hovering mugs, Sunny wistfully stared into her tea. “It’s nothing, really.”

Izzy stepped back and to the side, easing herself into a large recliner sat opposite of her friend. “Are you sure? I mean, if it really is nothing, then why is it bothering you?”

The corner of Sunny’s mouth turned up, as she turned her attention back to her host. Izzy may have been a bit excitable and unconventional with things, but she was actually quite shrewd and one of the most creative ponies she’d had the pleasure of meeting. Lifting her head and briefly meeting her companion’s eyes, she looked past the seated unicorn and to the myriad of decorations filling the room.

Now that she wasn’t on a mission to return magic to everypony, and didn’t have a throng of pegasi guards chasing her down, she was able to fully appreciate just how beautiful Izzy’s home was. Paintings, art supplies, sculptures, and creations that defied categorization met the eye wherever one looked, and each piece was as colorful and uplifting as the unicorn who’d crafted them. It was no wonder that the imaginative mare had an indomitably sunny disposition, though it begged the question of whether her happiness had resulted in her creativity or if her creativity was the source of her happiness.

“Do you mind if I ask you something?” she began, turning to fully face her host.

Leaning in and awkwardly sipping from her floating mug of tea, either not realizing or forgetting that moving the cup would be easier, Izzy paused and nodded. “Go ahead, be my guest,” she giggled.

“How long have you been an artist?” Sunny inquired, peering over at a sculpted bust. “I’ve met some pretty talented ponies before, but I can’t say there are many who can do a little bit of everything.”

Izzy blithely shrugged, giving the question only a moment’s thought. “Been doing it for as long as I can remember. With friends so hard to come by, I usually have a lot of free time on my hooves.”

The unassuming statement gave Sunny a moment for pause - not because it didn’t make sense, but because it reminded her of the first words she’d heard Izzy speak: ‘Hi, new friend,’. While she was as happy as can be to befriend an honest to goodness unicorn, something about their introduction piqued her interest. New friend implied her companion had friends, at least at one point, and she found herself genuinely curious to learn more about the enigmatic mare other acquaintances.

“And you made all these by yourself?” she pressed, waving at the myriad colorful creations surrounding them.

“Don’t be silly, of course I didn’t make them all by myself,” Izzy tittered, dismissively batting a forehoof at her guest. “My friends helped me.”

The remark gave Sunny just the opening she needed, causing a well-earned grin to creep across her muzzle. There were several ways to converse with somepony, from being directly blunt to excessively guileful, and her cleverness had just paid off. She wasn’t one to trick anypony into anything, yet she was still getting to know Izzy. Unlike with general questions, similar to the few she’d gotten to ask about unicorns shortly after they’d crossed paths, she preferred a bit of tact when it came to personal matters.

Hoping to keep the conversation rolling, she blew on her tea. “Any chance I could meet some of these friends of yours?”

A silent second passed, then a third and a fourth, before she lifted her gaze and peeked over at the unicorn. The moment her eyes settled on her host, she knew something had gone awry; there was a subtle tenseness in her frame, her joyful expression seemed the slightest bit pinched, and she stared down at the wooden floor without saying a word. While she may not have known what was wrong, it was clear that she’d unintentionally misstepped.

“If they’re still around,” she hastily added, praying she hadn’t dredged up the memory of somepony who’d passed.

“They’re still around - as a matter of fact, it’s rare that I don’t see them,” Izzy bashfully admitted.

Sunny reclined, taken aback by the admission. Throughout their adventure and the time afterward, she’d only ever heard her friend nonchalantly speak about being a black sheep - never once having made a passing mention of any other acquaintances. Eager to hear more, she collected herself and leaned forward.

The room darkened ever so slightly, a cloud blotting out the sunlit interior, as Izzy hopped from her chair. “I can introduce you, but don’t be surprised if they’re a little shy at first.”

Slipping from her seat, Sunny sat her mug down beside Izzy’s. “Don’t worry, I’ll try to rein myself in this time.”

Walking slightly to the side of her friend, instinctively moving towards the door, she slowed. Wherever Izzy was going, it definitely wasn’t to the exit. Trotting up to the painted, bespectacled bust of a unicorn, her host drew to a halt and waved her closer. Altering her course, she scrunched her snout in confusion.

“Sunny, I would like you to meet Sir Mossy,” Izzy announced, bowing graciously to the sculpture.

Sunny couldn’t keep herself from rolling her eyes, doing her best to suppress a chuckle. Considering Izzy was the odd mare out in Bridlewood, with her sunny disposition almost diametrically opposed to her fellow townsponies, it shouldn’t have been that shocking for her to have an imaginary friend or two. While the somber revelation that her friends weren’t real was a bit unsettling, hopefully things would change now that the unicorns had regained their magic.

“Pleased to meet you, Sir Mossy. So,” she snickered, looking over at the beaming unicorn, “how did you make his acquaintance?”

“I met him like most of my other friends - I found him,” Izzy responded, regaining her signature chipper tone.

“Found him?” Sunny parroted, quirking a brow.

“Mmmhmm,” the unicorn hummed, caressing the bust’s plaster cheek. “He needed a little cleaning up, but I think he looks perfect like this. Oh! You wanna meet another friend?”

“Come on,” Izzy continued scampering away, “there’s somepony I want you to meet.”

Ignoring the nagging sensation that something was amiss, Sunny followed her benevolent host. It was a bit disheartening to learn that the mare had been so lonely, yet it was inspirational that she’d managed to grow into such an upbeat pony. Solitude was an old friend of hers, so she was keenly aware of how alienating isolation could be.

The floor creaked beneath her hooves, as she made her way up the winding walkway to Izzy’s bedroom. If she had to guess, she was about to be introduced to a careworn stuffed animal of some sort, something her companion had leaned upon for support for many a year, and the thought was oddly comforting. Seeing the mare disappear through a doorway, she saw herself inside the chamber.

“Ok,” Izzy muttered, wheeling around to face her guest, “you gotta promise not to get too excited. She’s a bit bashful and doesn’t talk as much as she used to, but she’s super supportive.”

Sunny drew to a halt and solemnly marked an X over her chest. “Cross my heart.”

Grinning from ear to ear, Izzy cantered to her closet and cracked the door open. Peeking her head into the dark confines of the wardrobe, she whispered something, momentarily withdrew to look at her guest, then continued conversing with her mysterious friend; it was a cute, albeit somewhat sorrowful display, yet it bolstered Sunny’s resolve. If meeting one of the unicorn’s companions would serve to bridge the gap from fantasy to reality, then it was the least she could do.

“It’s ok, Star Breeze, I promise she’s a good pony,” Izzy intoned, stepping back and pulling the door open.

Stepping forward and extending a hoof, fully expectant to find herself facing a plush animal, Sunny faltered. Resting within the closet, propped against the wall, was a life-sized doll. Marigold fur clung tightly to the figure’s oddly slender frame, with a golden mane concealing its features. Studying the effigy, mere moments from complimenting the remarkable craftship, she noticed it - the striated outline of what appeared to be ribs within its torso.

Over her relatively short time in Equestria, she’d never encountered such an odd creation before. Either the craftsmare had a somewhat morbid eye for detail or she wasn’t looking at a mere simulacrum of a pony. Inching closer, spying an odd bend in the figure’s back, she recoiled; though she hadn’t initially seen it, the tip of a bone jutted from beneath the parched hide of the doll’s back.

There was no mistaking it - she wasn’t looking at the cherished, cuddlesome toy of a filly; her heart began to pound, and her eyes widened, as she looked upon the corpse. The absurdity of it all struck her like a gong, bringing a quake to her legs and leaving her mouth feeling as though it was full of sand. She’d never seen the body of a pony before, having only attended a single, closed casket funeral before, but there was no mistaking what she was looking at.

Moving to the doll’s head, caressing and turning it to face her guest, Izzy’s smile never waned. “Go ahead,” she urged, looking to her guest, “say hello!”

The acrid taste of bile crept to the back of Sunny’s throat, as a stale aroma wafted to her nose. With a knot forming in her stomach, she crept closer. There was no possible way her intuition could be correct, yet the disbelief of what she was seeing crumbled the longer she looked. With dried lips stretched tautly over a rictus, unfeeling grin, and the hollow of an eye socket peeking from beneath a lustrous lock of hair, the soulless husk of a long-dead mare stared at her.

In the blink of an eye, her carefree joy gave way to overwhelming dread. Somehow, for some unfathomable reason, one of the nicest, most innocent ponies she’d ever met had been harboring a grisly secret which defied explanation - or did it. Rationale and logic, the very foundations of who she was, stood to confront her horror. Steeling herself, she grappled with her primal urge to flee and held her ground.

“S…so - uh - how did you meet Star?” she asked, uncertainty creeping into her voice.

With a casual ease that bespoke untold ages of normality, Izzy lovingly brushed the figure’s hair. “Oh gosh - Star and I grew up together. She’s not as playful as she used to be, but that’s ok - I love her all the same.”

Sunny swallowed hard, choking back her welling disgust. “What happened?”

“Hmm?” the unicorn hummed, shifting her focus back to her guest. “Oh, she had an accident,” she explained, heedless of or outright ignoring her company’s concern. Her gleeful expression wavered only slightly, shadowed by the barest trace of melancholy. “There was a bad storm years and years ago, that’s when…that’s when it happened.”

Though she took some small solace knowing that her friend hadn’t committed the act itself, Sunny was no less disconcerted. Having an imaginary friend could be therapeutic and was harmless, regardless of one’s age or societal mores, yet this was a far departure from anything remotely acceptable. Drawing a deep breath, unwittingly flooding her nostrils with the faint scent of earth and abated decay, she slowly exhaled.

“You’re lucky she didn’t get buried,” she noted, attempting to broach the subject in a neutral, non-judgemental fashion, “or do unicorns not -”

“Oh she was!” Izzy chirped, cutting her companion off. “But I couldn’t let her stay in the cold, wet ground - she’d be so lonely there,” she added, turning her head and rubbing her snout against the desiccated muzzle of her friend. “That’s why I had to…What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Sunny blurted, only then aware that some aspect of her revulsion must have slipped through the cracks of her facade. “Nothing’s wrong, I’m just surprised you hadn’t mentioned her before.”

As if the comment was foolish, the unicorn rolled her eyes. “Well I don’t talk about her to everypony, Silly - if I did, I wouldn’t have been able to make friends with the others.”

“Others…” Sunny trailed off, the blood in her veins running to frigid.

The implication of others brought with it a cold realization. What she’d falsely assumed was a gruesome piece of art borne out of hopelessness to cope was anything but. She wasn’t sure what was more disquieting, the fact that her friend, the first non-earth pony she’d had the pleasure of meeting, was a grave robber or that she hadn’t the slightest clue that something was dreadfully wrong with the mare.

“Yeah,” Izzy merrily replied. Kissing Star’s cheek, she stepped back, waved at her departed friend, and slowly closed the door. “If you liked her, I can’t wait to show you off to everypony else!”

Petrified, Sunny tracked the carefree mare with her eyes alone. By any reasonable measure, she should have excused herself. While she didn’t necessarily feel threatened, the knowledge of her friend’s ghoulish proclivities was anything but comforting. Spurred by her insatiable lust to understand, telling herself that Izzy was by no means a malign creature, she turned in place and trotted after the blithe unicorn.

As she moved through the home, following her companion, she attempted to process what she’d just discovered. If Izzy was telling the truth, without any evidence to incline the mare was lying, just how wrong was the development - disturbing, sure, though in a benign, melancholic way. At worst, the grisly pastime wasn’t really hurting anypony, considering Star had expired of natural causes prior to being interred - still, the ethically dubious nature of repurposing a corpse was questionable at best.

With every step she took, her baser instincts pled for her to stop - nevertheless, she continued onward. She had to see how deep the rabbit hole went, to unveil the full extent of her companion’s maladies. With the proper care and consideration, she may be able to undo the psychological damage years of isolation and neglect had done to the unicorn - even if it meant sharing the burden of a dark secret.

“Here’s where the real magic happens,” Izzy proudly announced, stopping just shy of a large, heavy wooden door.

Sunny hadn’t realized it, having lost herself to her thoughts, but she’d trailed her friend into the very bowels of the home. Standing in stark contrast to the brightly lit, colorful home above, the subterranean area was cool and almost foreboding. It only made sense that unicorns used cellars, seeing as how earth ponies did the same themselves, but the offputting epiphany from minutes before made the development all the more unnerving.

As the door swung open, pulled by her beaming host, her pupils shrank to pinpricks. Illuminated by a softly glowing lantern, the room was what she could only describe as a charnel house. A kaleidoscopic array of pelts hung from the ceiling, bleached bones littered the surface of a sturdy wooden bench, and a spinning wheel with a prismatic mound of shorn hair sat against the far wall. Try as she might, her dread caused her to step back.

As Izzy rushed into the chamber, practically prancing into her workshop, she was shaken from her stupor. The juxtaposition of macabre and delight, watching her friend gleefully pluck a flensed skull from a small basin, left her frozen in place. All the fear and trepidation she’d felt in the bedroom came flooding back with full force, aided by an element which only then reared its ugly head - panic.

“You have no idea how stubborn these are to clean,” Izzy giggled, reaching up to touch one of the treated hides dangling above her.

A wave of nausea surged through Sunny, as the true extent of her friend’s depravity settled over her. Everywhere she looked, a new facet of the nightmare came to light. Bones crushed into powder, manes woven into lengths of fabric, and skin treated and transformed to parchment - the forlorn remains of what appeared to be nearly a dozen ponies chipped away at her sanity, while her host blissfully detailed the process of exhuming the deceased. It wasn’t until she noticed a particularly small coat, being nearly a third of a size of the rest, did her courage sunder.

Her diaphragm seized, sending the smell of vomit into her sinuses, as she reflexively thrust a forehoof to her slavering maw. She’d always assumed the best of everypony, even those who had lost their way, yet the understanding that anypony could mirthfully enact something so egregious was beyond her comprehension. Though she’d known there were atrocities in the world, things that even she’d struggle to confront, the knowledge that a pony she considered a friend was capable of such things jeopardized undoing some fundamental part of her.

“S…Sunny?” a meek voice called, “are you ok?”

Through sheer force of will, Sunny tore her eyes from the cobblestone floor to the unicorn. Her lapse of composure, while only a hoofful of seconds, had caused a shift in the mare. Izzy’s brightness was gone, replaced by a morose, almost dejected look. Unable to conceal her repugnance any longer, fueled by the adrenaline, she knit her brow.

As she locked eyes with the mare, her patience came to an abrupt end. “Why? H…how could you do something like this?”

Her voice reverberated through the chamber and the short corridor behind her, dwindling away and leaving the air as still and silent as a tomb. Izzy stood motionless, staring over at her with an unreadable expression, before averting her gaze and fidgeting in place. Looking to the floor, she nervously twisted a lock of her mane with a forehoof.

“B…because they were lonely, a…and because I was lonely,” she whispered. “They’re much happier here.”

Emboldened by righteous indignation, Sunny waved at the gruesome menagerie. “Izzy, this is wrong,” she breathed, doing everything in her power not to cave beneath the crushing weight of her loathing.

“You don’t understand!” Izzy countered, lifting her head to glare over at her guest.

“Don’t understand what?” Sunny snapped, backing away. “They’re dead, they deserve to rest!”

“Don’t go, p…please,” the unicorn stammered, stepping closer to her exit. Her fear and apprehension disappeared instantaneously, as she started and smiled. “I know just the thing that can help!” she bleated, dashing over to a cabinet. Opening the cupboard, rummaging around in the interior, she emerged as exuberant as ever, yet her jubilation was marred by what she bore on her face.

Sunny’s stomach turned, threatening to empty its contents onto the floor, as she went rigid. Plastered to the mare’s countenance, covering her visage like a second skin, was the painted, cured face of one of her friends. It was unclear if the pony had been a stallion or mare, anointed like some twisted parody of a clown, yet it made little difference in the end. Of all the horrendous things she’d seen that day - no, over the entirety of her fleeting existence, the leather sat at the apex of all things abhorrent.

With a deep sigh of what could only be relief, Izzy retrieved a second, similarly decorated mask. “See, they’re always smiling now! How can you not be happy for them?”

Her guest’s lack of response fractured something - something that, in spite of the leather covering her face, was plain to see. A slight tremor entered her frame, her eyes frantically played over the mute pony lingering just outside the door, and her chest began to heave - rising and falling at a heightened rate. Stepping around the table, moving nearer to Sunny, a crazed, frantic grin split her muzzle.

“Y…you understand right - right?” she implored, offering the disembodied face to her companion.

Izzy’s tonal shift, her seemingly unshakable stability fracturing under the unspoken judgment of her friend, was too much for Sunny to bear. There was no longer a desire to leave - there was a need. Aside from requiring time to process everything which had been disclosed, she needed space to fend off the madness attempting to consume her. Even as a mere bystander, she could practically feel the sharp claws of insanity itself wearing her mind, begging her to trade the embrace of lucidity for the perverse lunacy of her companion’s deluded world.

In that instant, she came to an inexorable conclusion - she had to go. There was only so much anypony could do in such a situation, and she’d reached the threshold of what she could bear. Her mind raced, clouded by dismay, as she sought to come up with something - anything to say to depart. Like a drowning victim desperately clinging to a piece of driftwood, she latched onto the first reasonable idea that came to mind.

“I s…sure do,” she uneasily answered, swinging a forehoof before herself in an effort to give her charade a bit of added weight, “but I just remembered I was supposed to meet Hitch for a movie tonight.”

A singular sparkle, that almost preternatural charm that could lull anypony into believing she was completely rational and jovial, returned to Izzy as quickly as it had disappeared. “So you do understand…?”

Subconsciously shuffling back, Sunny nodded. “I really do, yeah, but I need to be going. Don’t want to leave my friend worrying about me!”

The clash of Izzy’s knowing smirk beneath the affixed smile of the hide she’d donned was harrowing to a fault, yet she crossed the chamber and hugged her guest as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Draping her head over Sunny’s shoulder, holding the tensed mare in an embrace, she shifted her muzzle to her friend’s ear. “Can I tell you something?”

“S…sure,” Sunny stammered, willing herself to pat the unicorn’s back.

“If anything ever happens to you,” she breathed, her voice so faint that she may not have spoken at all, “I’ll be sure you keep smiling too.”

The line, as innocuous as it was, tipped the scales ever so slightly back to the realm of reason. Though her motives and grasp on reality were tenuous at best, Izzy hadn’t hurt anypony. The poor mare’s warped worldview walked the tightrope between horrific and tragic, likely out of circumstances well out of her control. With her enmity momentarily eclipsed by sorrow, Sunny fleetingly returned the hug and pulled away.

“Izzy, you don’t need these friends anymore,” she uttered, extending a foreleg to remove the sickening veneer, “you have real friends now…”

“But these are my real friends,” Izzy insisted, shying away and stroking the leather over her cheek.

There was an all too real chance that her efforts were in vain, but Sunny endured. “I know what it’s like not to have anypony to talk to, but things are different now; Pipp, Zipp, Hitch, and I are all here for you. Just…just know that you don’t have to keep doing this - that you don’t have to make more friends like…” she couldn’t finish the statement, glancing over at the cornucopia of remains.

“I know…I know…” Izzy wistfully mused, giving a small nod. “Don’t let me keep you though. Just be sure to tell Hitch I said hello.”

Stepping back, Sunny dipped her head. “I will, don’t worry.”

The moment she gave the small reassurance, she turned and trotted away. Each stride she took was a liberation, carrying her further from the lost soul and the sepulcher behind her - unfortunately, her relief would only be temporary. One way or another, she knew she’d be seeing Izzy again.

Waving her goodbye, even after losing sight of the retreating mare, Izzy listened to the sound of hooffalls grow fainter and fainter. It was only after she heard the front door open and close did she finally move. Strolling back to her workbench, she stooped down and retrieved a box from beneath the stained wooden surface. Opening the small crate, her eyes going alight, a heartfelt smirk graced her lips.

“Don’t worry,” she cooed, shooting a conspiratorial glance to the exit, “she doesn’t suspect a thing. I’m sure she’ll love you just as much as she used to…”

Her hooves crept inside the tiny confines, past a pair of semi-rimless glasses, affectionately brushing the cerulean coat of a slack, lifeless countenance…