Scolopendromorpha

by _NoMoon_

Rating: teen
Tags: Violence, Dark, Death, Twilight Sparkle, Gore, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Fluttershy, Horror
Length: 2622

A monster is expecting, and she needs some food to prepare for her offspring.

A monster near Ponyville is expecting her offspring, and she needs to find some food to prepare for their arrival.

Published 2023-10-03 16:10:00 UTC
Last updated 2023-10-03 16:10:00 UTC

Scolopendromorpha

I lurk within the shadows of cottages. Rows and rows of houses provide little safe havens between. I slither between them like a centipede under a stone. Back and forth my legs work to move my body from one hideout to the next. I try not to let my black, tar-like saliva drip onto the dirt road, I won’t let my calling-card be here. However, the smell of meat makes my body shiver, and my tongue squirm behind the cage of sharpened teeth I carry in my maw. The moon is high over my head, and I must be wary. When dawn breaks I must be back at my nest. I must be back home.

I slink under the porch of an unsuspecting home. This is one of my favorite spots to hide. I’ve been here so often I’ve even dug a snug pit. Perhaps I should move here next, I think to myself. But tonight is not a night to move, my nest has already been built. Back to the task at hoof; I shake my head to get myself to focus, and let my proboscis taste the air, the tip reaching out from under the boards. Nothing. I try once more, and a faint scent suddenly brushes against my senses. It’s enough to make my stomachs tighten with hunger. I watch with turquoise eyes on bated breath for movement that would compromise my mission. Luckily everyone nearby seems to be asleep, so I uncoil my body and dart in the direction of the sickeningly sweet smell. The hunt is on.

As I near the source, I realize it is uncharacteristically strong. Most of the time it emanates from a window someone left open, or an animal that would otherwise be a mere snack rather than a meal. But no, this is something else. Someone is outside. My heart races in my chest and I move a little faster, hugging the walls of homes as I pass them. My hooves leave several impressions in the dirt, flattening the ground as I walk over it. If someone were awake they may only hear gentle scuttling outside of their home, and pass me off as a gaggle of friendly animals passing by. It is amusing how brains will think of anything to rationalize an unfamiliar scene; make the excuses for me. It makes my job much easier.

Finally, I see them. Two of them. A couple on a midnight stroll, passing the town hall. Saliva flows freely from my jaw that quivers in anticipation, and I hide underneath a bridge, latching my body onto the underside so as not to disturb the flow of the stream below. The animalistic, starving piece of my mind screams at my consciousness to break free of my clear-thinking chains, and devour my prey in the middle of the street. However the anxiety of getting caught, my fear, quiets my thoughts like a mother shushing her erratic toddler. I will be patient.

The two ponies are lost in each other's gaze; a brown colt with a typical, brushed-back, straw mane, and a young, yellow mare with orange, curly hair. I recognize them; Meadow Song and Carrot Top respectively. As I watch them approach the bridge, I reflect on them. Meadow Song is a performer, and Carrot Top is a farmer and sales-pony. I suddenly find myself in a conundrum; while I would have no problem picking off Meadow, he is Carrot Top’s significant other. And Carrot Top is a different story, as she supplies carrots that I tend to buy quite frequently. I don’t think I could lure Meadow away without her getting suspicious. When he’s inevitably pronounced missing her crops would surely suffer. On the other side of the coin, when would an opportunity like this come by again? I may not eat this well for moons.

Anxiety makes my chest tighten, and my thoughts are suddenly interrupted by the sound of the happy couple stopping on top of the bridge. I hear the boards groan under their weight, and feel their hooves against my belly. My proboscis flails, the overpowering scent is indescribable and makes my stomachs boil with acid. It would be so easy to extend myself and snatch them up. But there would be repercussions if I choose them in particular... I force down a growl of frustration; of all ponies it had to be Carrot Top. And I have to get all sentimental and mushy over her.

The long, pink hairs of my head and tail just barely skim the surface of the gentle river below. I look down and see the happy couple’s reflection on the surface of the water, on top of the world of each other’s company. It makes my heart sink. I can’t do it to them. No…it won’t be them tonight. They have no idea how lucky they are, I think to myself as I watch them leave the bridge. I sigh softly when they leave and angrily criticize myself. I’m too late. I resign myself to finding a deer or raccoon to satiate me for the night. Once the two are out of earshot I slowly lower myself into the stream, keeping my eyes, ears, and nose just above the surface, and start my journey back to my nest.

The scent of Carrot Top and Meadow Song drift away from me, melting into the familiar nightly smells. My heart sinks into my empty belly, immediately regretting my decision. Who cares if she died, or if he died; there would always be someone else to sell me carrots or write songs. I sigh as I continue to skim the water, making small bubbles on the surface; no, there wouldn’t be. Not here. I am not a monster who kills to kill. I kill for food, I maim for meat. That is all, it is a code I will follow. I venture further to the edge of town, the stream I wade in flows directly to my nest, and as much as I enjoy a good bath, a cold night followed by being soaked without anything to show for it made me…well…disappointed to say the very least.

As I am about to exit the town into the brush, something new penetrates my nose. I turn my head, ears pointed, and my gaze settles on a window just yards away, left slightly lifted. The home is small, only one pony lives inside. I could only smell a single pony. My hungry belly feels even emptier than before, and my proboscis flairs and flashes from between my lips. The scent is mouthwatering, somewhat familiar, and draws me out of the stream and up to the home. Each segment of my body shakes the water droplets from its fur as I flatten myself against the side of the house like ivy, before holding myself up like a cobra to peek through the window.

The interior is unkempt, to say the least. Dishes fill the sink, clothes are strewn about on the ground, and a familiar mail-pony cap is set on the table that has piled up with newspapers. The scent makes a shiver go down my spine. I can’t believe my luck. My patience rewards me, and I’m almost a little too noisy as I slither inside, first coiling under the table to listen for any signs of life, though it’s hard not to be distracted by the scent. My open ears swivel in the darkness. Besides the gentle song of a cricket outside, I manage to pick out the rumbling snore of someone, just one pony, just down the hall. The house was simple; it was a single-story cottage, not unlike the dozen others that skirted Ponyville. I had navigated similar passages another dozen times before.

I wait for just a few moments before making a move, the house is still. I pause to listen as I reach each door, just to ensure my ears are not deceiving me. To my pleasant surprise, he’s alone. My spine prickles with excitement, and I carefully push the bedroom door open. The wooden-board floor is scattered with clothing and garbage, nesting a queen-sized bed with moth-bitten sheets. In it lies a gently snoring stallion. His silver-gray coat and white mane is almost pretty in the moonlight. I will not miss him.

I approach the bed and rear up far above him. I shudder as I work my muscles, and with a soft cracking noise my bottom jaw splits like a boa yawning. However it doesn’t stop there, as the split, normally concealed by my fur, begins to widen further from the middle of my lower jaw, and travels down my neck, then to my chest. My true mouth is lined with spike-like teeth, inward facing towards the endless void of my stomach. I’ve noticed it actually looks a bit like a lamprey. No time for that now, I’m starving, and the saliva dripping from my mouth is staining the bed like rain.

A single black drop lands on his face, making him wince before his eyes flutter open. The first thing he sees are my turquoise eyes, and a look of recognition comes over him, just for a moment. Secretly I enjoy whenever ponies look at me this way. They think they know who I am, maybe we’ve had a conversation, before it suddenly melts into fear. He gets, maybe… a moment to scream, maybe two, before a scoop him into the trap of teeth. His cries and wails are muffled as my jaws snap shut, not unlike a venus fly trap. The sudden motion produces a splatter of blood and black saliva on the sheets, and drips down my chest. I’m always a little messy. My body does the work for me, sinking the internal teeth into his flesh, and crushing him. I know he’s dead when I feel the pop of his skull against my chest, and the muffled cries of fear go silent.

The seem on my body is now completely closed, it’s like the much larger, true mouth never existed at all, if you ignore the gore and tarry substance left behind. Much like a snake digesting an egg, a large, oval-ish lump travels down my body. The shelled scales that make up my centipede-like lower-half stretch with skin in between to let it pass smoothly. I sigh, satiated. This is what I needed. A satisfying whole meal. Lower myself to rest for a moment and let the body be flattened a little more by my organs. This is why I do this, I think to myself. After a few minutes of well-deserved rest I maneuver myself out of the bedroom, much less quietly than before, and exit through the same window I came through. Once again I clamber down the wall, and begin to follow the river back to my nest.

I’m happy I chose this location, far from anyone else in Ponyville so no one could easily interrupt. But close enough to my friends, food, and supplies. My cottage is one I built myself, which I’d say isn’t a half-bad job. It’s got a river and a bridge, and in the bank there’s a small burrow. Usually the ferrets and otters nest in there, because they know they’re far too small for me to consider them food. I duck under the bridge and squirm my way into the muddle tunnel, which smells of animal musk and rotten fish. Luckily it’s not too strong in the actual nest, which takes me only a few moments to reach.

It’s a wide space under the house, a wide crater I dug out, lined with grass, pillows and blankets. In the center lays a small clutch of round, partially translucent eggs, no bigger than my head each. As I get the last of my body out of the tunnel and curled around the nest, I begin my transformation. The tail-end of my body retracts into the segment ahead of it, and the baby-yellow hooves connected to it recede into its respective section. One by one the trunk of my body shrinks, cracking and shifting softly like old knees. The experience isn’t painful by any means, but it’s quite a process, and I can’t be folded up forever.

Finally the last of my body recedes into itself, and I’m left as a regular pegasus once again. I’ve decided I’ll spend the night with my offspring tonight; I always get anxious when they’re left alone. There’s little room to move, but I don’t mind. I crawl over to a pillow and drag it with my mouth, my teeth now flat and more equine-like, over to the small nestle of eggs. I hop on top of it curl around them, hugging them close to my chest, and smile to myself. I can’t wait to meet them, and I can’t wait to show them all the ponies this town has to offer. As I rest my cheek on one of them, I drift off fantasizing about their future, our future, together.

Fluttershy walked into town early, saddlebags full of bits and Angel Bunny riding on her back. Her bright blue eyes were suddenly caught by a strange sight. In front of a home at the edge of town, bright yellow police tape drew an X on the front porch. Twilight Sparkle was pacing anxiously outside of the cottage, talking to one of the police officers, as well as a royal guard.

“I just don’t get it,” Twilight murmured to the two ponies as Fluttershy approached.

“Twilight—?” Fluttershy started, though it accidentally made the alicorn flinch and jump slightly, before she suddenly turned to the yellow pegasus with a look of relief.

“Oh! Fluttershy, it’s just you. Sorry we had to meet today like…well…this.” She gave a nervous glance at the house, “There was another attack last night.”

Fluttershy made her eyes widen with fear, “A-another? I-Isn’t this the second one this month?”

Twilight nodded gravely, “I’ve been trying to find any clues, but I haven’t seen any sign of struggle, and no one even heard anything. Even though…” she trailed off, and her face went pale before she swallowed her gorge and continued, “I’m not sure if it’s a creature or a pony. There’s been hoof-prints but…there’s this black goo all over.” Fluttershy let out a small whimper, and shuddered with fear. Twilight realized she may have spooked the pegasus and put a hoof on her shoulder, “B-But I’m sure we’ll catch them soon! You have nothing to worry about Fluttershy. I wish I could accompany you today but I’ve been called by the mayor to work on this case. How about you go find Pinkie Pie? I’m sure she’d love to spend some time with you today.”

Fluttershy looked unsure, but Twilight gave her a gentle, encouraging look, which helped the little yellow pegasus relax. Angel Bunny stroked her mane too, which made her smile, “Okay…I-If there’s anything I can do, you can come over and maybe talk about it over tea?”

The alicorn looked surprised before she smiled graciously, “I’d like that very much.”

Fluttershy smiled a little more back, nodded her head as a goodbye, and started walking towards Sugarcube Corner. Once they were out of earshot, Angel hopped off of Fluttershy’s back and gestured skeptically as he bounced alongside her. Fluttershy chuckled softly, “Don’t worry, Angel. She’s perfectly safe. We can throw her off the scent if we play our cards right,” she mutters to the rabbit as she walks. Her stomachs suddenly growl, and she pauses. She glances at the little white bunny again.

“Wanna get something to eat?”

Author's Note

Just a short story, enjoy 💜