Senor Butterscotch

Senor Butterscotch lay on the cold stone ground, watching as the rain cleansed the world outside. He lit his horn to strengthen his magic some more, and was pleased to find that the forest had a lot more creatures to siphon magic from. From animals, to insects, to even some plants; Senor Butterscotch gained power from all of them.

He had no idea how long he stayed there; he’d stopped counting the sunrises after ten.

Once in a while a small animal would venture into the cave for shelter, only to be drained of its entire life force by the abomination inside.

Senor Butterscotch eyed the lifeless bunny before him, his most recent victim. He didn’t feel anything for it, he’d lost the ability to feel when Izzy had locked him in that closet.

Maybe he’d never had it in the first place, maybe the happiness he’d originally felt was just a byproduct of Izzy. Afterall, it was her leftover magic that kept him alive. If he hadn’t held onto it, he’d just be a big ugly doll. He didn’t know how he’d come to life, and he didn’t care. As he stared deeply into the glossy eyes of the bunny, he smiled inwardly, he wanted to do that to Izzy.

He lifted the corpse with his magic, then he thoughtlessly tossed it out of the cave. It flew over the treetops and landed very far away.

It wasn’t the smell of decay that bothered him, actually he couldn’t smell anything, but he’d learned the hard way that rotting corpses would attract predators. It had been a lot harder to throw away the wolf’s body, after he’d barely managed to drain its life force.

Senor Butterscotch spent his time in the cave plotting his revenge on Izzy. He hadn’t come up with anything specific, only that he wanted to kill her and her friends. Eventually he decided that he wanted a real body, a flesh and blood pony body. He’d grown sick of needing to telekinetically maneuver himself everywhere, his magic was needed for better things.

Like, for example, crafting a sword from scratch. It was a crude thing, the blade was jagged and carved from stone, and the handle was oak wood held together by enchanted vines. It fit his aesthetic, though, and it would do for now.

Senor Butterscotch sat quietly in the bushes; his ears focused as he watched a group of ponies set up camp. There was a unicorn, a pegasus, and two earth ponies. The unicorn and the pegasus were currently setting up a tent, and the two earth ponies had left to gather firewood.

His makeshift blade already dripped with blood, as he’d taken out the two earth ponies only minutes prior. His predatory gaze was fixed on the unicorn stallion, he didn’t know exactly how he’d take his body, but he really really wanted to. His magic fluctuated at the thought, as if agreeing with him.

When the two finished with the tent, they called out for their friends. When they received no reply, the pegasus left to go find them.

Senor Butterscotch watched as she flew above the treetops, and once she’d left the unicorn's sight, he summoned a ring of magic around her throat. His ears perked as he heard her hit the ground, and he tightened his grip.

He checked to make sure the unicorn hadn’t heard the thud, once he confirmed he was in the clear, he began to siphon the pegasus magic as she choked and struggled in his grasp.

It had taken a lot of practice to be able to telekinetically grab things he couldn’t see, but he did so by applying a simple tracking spell to the target.

Once the pegasus’ body was sucked dry of her magic, Senor Butterscotch released her and stepped out of the bushes.

The unicorn saw him and shrieked, taking a few steps back before he tripped over one of their bags and landed on his rump.

He quivered in terror for a moment, as Senor Butterscotch eyed him carefully. He couldn’t stab him, he thought, what if that made it impossible to mold their bodies?

A ring of magenta magic grasped the unicorn's throat, but not tight enough to block his airway. Senor Butterscotch set his sword on the ground as he lifted the struggling unicorn above him, his victim tried to scream but he suddenly tightened his grip, cutting it off.

He took a deep breath and pinned the unicorn’s limbs to his side. Then he lifted himself off the ground until he was eye level with the whimpering stallion. His magic fluctuated as he gritted his teeth, he didn’t know what he was even doing, but the desperate need for a real body was driving the spell as he fed magic into it.

Surely Senor Butterscotch would need to recover for a week after doing this, but it would all be worth it if he got what he wanted.

Both pony and abomination began to glow, it started as a small light from their chests, but then grew to envelope their bodies. The light turned black, like a mini black hole, and the unicorn began desperately trying to scream for help as his nerves were set on fire.

The air warped and cracked around them as Senor Butterscotch brought their body’s closer, and with a great push of magic he pressed himself into the horrified unicorn.

As soon as their hooves made contact, they merged together into a black gunk. At the sight of his body melting into the monster before him, the unicorn finally passed out. Their forelegs merged, then their back legs, then their torsos.

When the two were finally fused all that was left was a bubbling black mass, held aloft by a heavily fluctuating magenta field.

Then, after several seconds of near silence, a golden horn emerged from the darkness. The bubbling goo simmered down as more body parts poked out from it, seemingly seeping into the body as it formed.

There was a meaty thud as Senor Butterscotch hit the ground, his magic fizzling out as it felt like his horn was burning a hole into his brain.

He opened his crimson eyes, surveying his surroundings as he groaned. All he could see was dirt. Startled, he shot up into a sitting position, gasping as he realized he was lying in a small crater that had formed under where he and the unicorn had been floating. The earth buzzed with magic as small flecks of magenta floated lazily in the air.

Hm, I wonder if I’ll be dealing with a living plant problem soon. He thought as he crawled out of the crater.

It took a lot of effort to stand, his legs shaky as he wobbled over to his sword. He tried to lift it, but not even a single spark would emanate from his horn. He groaned, more waiting he supposed.

He looked down at his hooves, they were real all right, no longer junk. Examining himself he found that he had a silver face, with tan ears and a gold horn. His neck was brown with a gold scarf around it, and his pinata body was now a pink and blue cloak draped around his pony body. One foreleg was silver with a brown hoof, and one foreleg was purple with a cyan hoof. One back leg was dark grey with a black hoof, and the other was blue-ish grey with a silver hoof. Finally, a spiky blue mane grew from his head, and he had a fluffy tan tail that came out of a cardboard tube.

So basically, he looked like a ponified version of his original self. Senor Butterscotch rolled his eyes, well that was certainly something.

Then his stomach rumbled, the feeling and sound causing him to jump in fright. After he determined that this must be hunger, he began digging through the campers' supplies.

I hadn’t anticipated gaining pony needs, but I guess that’s the price for a better body. He thought to himself as he lifted a can to eye level. The label read ‘Real, FRESH, carrots’ he decided that was good enough and made to open the can.

His horn did nothing, just sitting atop his head as it cooled off.

Growling, Senor Butterscotch pawed at the can with his hooves. After a moment he tossed the can into the woods out of frustration.

How do earth ponies do anything!? He thought, gritting his teeth.

The light of the setting sun glinted off of his sword, giving him an idea. After retrieving the can and carefully cutting it open with his blade, Senor Butterscotch sat inside the comfy tent as he munched on his very much not fresh carrots.

He couldn’t stop admiring himself, even if he looked like a total freakshow, he felt like an entirely new pony. Well, aside from the rage and hatred, that is. He ran his hood across his foreleg, smiling at the feeling of his soft fur.

When the can was empty, he ventured out of the tent, with the goal of hoarding all of the food into it. The sky was dark now, a mix of deep blues and fading purples as the stars twinkled above.

When the food was gone, Senor Butterscotch left the camp behind. He knew ponies would eventually come looking for the missing campers, and he didn’t want to be there when they did. He figured this because the fusion had left him with the memories of the unicorn, who’d been a performer and had a very loving coltfriend waiting for him at home. Senor Butterscotch felt the love that unicorn had had for his friends and family, but it was second hand. He recognized the feelings and emotions, but they weren’t attached to him, they were not his own.