A Monster in the Attic

"I... can't believe people like this still exist in Equestria," Starlight whispered in disbelief.

"They always have," the stallion by Cozy's side answered in his low and rocky voice. "And always will. The only thing we can change is how little evil they can do and how much they have to hide."

"You've still not introduced yourself," the headmare pointed out, while she agreed with him.

The stallion, a somewhat old pegasus with a frail body spotting a large scar on his throat, replied by raising a tempering hoof, saying:

"Let the little one finish her story first."

The rules were numerous in the manor. Don't disturb your father, only talk to him if he talks to you first, don't be late for meals, don't tell the guests what goes on at night, be polite, don't use the dumbwaiter in the living room, don't be a disappointment. Things like that.

But there was one that seemed... strange to me, even in this house. Especially in this house, in fact. It was the rule about not going in the attic. That was odd, I could go to the dungeon and look at the skulls and heads of our previous guests, but I wasn't allowed up? We even had two entrances, with retractable stairs, but both had been boarded-up before my birth. My father even had put magical seals on them, so that "no unicorn would pass".

I asked my mom once, and she had told me to never talk about this place again and to never tell my father about it.

But they hadn't planned for everything...

It was a sunny afternoon in the valleys. Cozy could see the mountains in the distance, as well as some villages, down there, far away. The mansion was up a hill, overlooking a dense forest, and was surrounded by a beautiful large garden.

In between the patches of flowers, by the fountain, the small pegasus was training, as she did almost every day. She had her wings deployed, flapping with all her strength, and yet was making no progress.

She had read books on pegasus, but they were mostly anatomical records, observations. Nothing that really explained how they flew, just what physically happened, which was a given since all these books had been written by unicorns. No pegasus experience could speak through those lines.

Still, she tried. Different angles, sometimes waiting for the wind to blow her way, only to get carried off for a few panicked meters before falling on her face.

"Aouch..." she winced in personal pain, before standing up.

As she was trying to figure out what was wrong in her attempts, she heard a chirp. A bird flew by and landed about two meters away from her, at the foot of a flower. The filly got an idea.

She observed the small creature from a distance. The bird hopped around, sometimes glancing at the filly, sometimes focusing on the flowers. It stood on a small rock, turning its head in many directions. Then, the moment Cozy had been waiting for happened: it flew away. Flapping its small wings, up it went, without any trouble and, soon enough, it disappeared from her vision, too small to follow. But she had gathered some information from it. Up until now, she had been using her wings like flat paddles, but there was a rolling to their movement in the bird's flight. She knew what she had to do next.

After a few trials, some faceplants and a whole lot of internal "I'm still making progress, I can feel it!", she managed to hover off the ground for a few seconds, before she came crumbling down on the floor from sheer wing-exhaustion.

"What is the meaning of this?" a disapproving voice coldly asked.

The filly jumped and turned her head around, trying to get back up, her legs shaking. Her father was there, standing on the path, with a harsh but somewhat neutral expression on his face. Impenetrable. He was a unicorn not as tall as her mother, with a gray coat and long cyan hair, curling up on their end.

"I-I'm learning how to fly, father," Cozy answered, straightening her stance to look proud. "And I've managed on my own! See!"

She flapped her wings again, her hooves leaving the ground as she raised in the air, barely a few centimeters. But just enough for it to be called flying.

He didn't look impressed...

"Would you cease this nonsense, Cozy Dim Rook. No pony flies in this mansion, nor on its domain."

The filly's flight slowed down as she quietly landed, looking at her father with an apologizing and shameful face. But she couldn't form the words to excuse her intolerable behavior, they just didn't reach her mouth. She felt hollow but she knew complaining would make everything worse, she would have been even more of a disappointment. So, she just stared at him, trying to not look too pitiful and not dishonor herself and her father even more.

All of this for nothing... I learned later that pegasus usually begin to fly when they are two or three years older than I was. But even that, he couldn't be proud of. I doubt he even cared enough about the other races to know that.

"We'll be having special guests tonight," her father continued. "You'll prepare their room."

"As in, regular room...?" the filly asked for confirmation.

"Yes," the stallion answered with an already failing patience. "I told you they are special guests. They need a proper place to sleep."

"Very well," the filly nodded, chasing away the bad thoughts constantly forming in her mind. "May I ask what is special about them?"

"The mare just gave birth to a unicorn."

The dining room was, by all accounts, way too big for just a few ponies. But it was a part of the family's pride. The long table ensured ponies had to raise their voices to be heard, and the master of the house could then tell them to not speak so loud in his presence. A way for him to ensure he would always be the one being heard.

Everyone was already eating. Cozy was sitting at one end of the table, while the invites – two earth ponies and their foal – were at the other. Her father and mother sat in the middle and were still some three meters away from both their daughter and their guests.

This was the usual, making sure our guests wouldn't have to bear my presence from up close, that I wouldn't speak to them easily. Father once told me that he didn't want to "impose our shame on them". I was the shame. The dishonor of the family, from birth.

That day, I realized it more than ever, right from the start. Because the baby, that lowborn little piece of... That thing was standing two chairs closer to my father than I ever did, in his little crib.

"So, mister Lowkey, do you have unicorns in your family?" my father asked.

"Not that we know of," the guest replied, with politeness. "A few pegasus here and there, but we're mostly earth ponies."

Or at least, he tried to be polite. He wasn't used to that. He didn't even say "my lord" after his sentences.

"The members of your family have always been the only unicorns around," he followed. "And I doubt my ancestors had that kind of relationship with yours."

He giggled a bit at what was implied, but that didn't make Cozy's father laugh. If magic could have clenched around his fork, it would have. The simple suggestion that his blood could mix with them was infuriating.

Seeing his joke not landing with his hosts, the guest stallion awkwardly cleared his throat and followed:

"Same goes for my wife and her family. No unicorns in any record, not even any err, interactions, is that how you say it?"

"That's nonsense," Cozy's mother said with self-importance. "Unicorn babies don't just appear out of nowhere, everypony would be aware of it. We would be aware of it."

"Well, I don't have any other explanations," Lowkey shrugged.

"Sometimes nature has its mysteries," his stallion host replied with a very neutral tone. "This is why we pursue knowledge in my family."

"And how about your little foal over there? How come she's a pegasus?"

The guest couple looked at Cozy, while her parents didn't even give her a glance. The filly focused on eating rather than trying to answer anything, she hadn't been invited to talk, but she was paying attention. A smile on her face, perfectly hiding her inner turmoil.

"Another mystery," her father plainly answered. "It's a shame she doesn't have the necessary... baggage to explore it."

That was a surprisingly nice answer coming from him. Lowkey stared at the filly for a second, before bluntly saying:

"She looks a bit dumb. No offense, of course, but I always find pegasi a bit... you know, bird-headed. Nothing comparable to the grace of a unicorn or the solid physic of an earth pony, if you know what I'm saying."

Cozy froze, looking at her plate. She didn't stop smiling, but she couldn't eat anymore, nor raise her eyes to see the reaction of her parents. But the fact that she was still hearing forks and knives being moved around told her that they hadn't stopped what they were doing. Which only broke her a bit more.

"She is quite smarter than she looks, for a pegasus," her mother replied. "But nothing to the level of a unicorn, I'm sure your own little foal will outclass her with the proper education."

"Which we will provide," her father followed. "If you allow me, I'd like to arrange the future of our children together."

"What do you mean?" Lowkey's wife asked.

"Since my family only marries unicorns, it is for the better if we can avoid looking for one for too long. I, myself, had to look for a wife at the other end of the valley. Of course, he'll be a little younger than my daughter, but this won't be a problem."

"What!?" both guests exclaimed.

"You want to marry our little Miracle Mud to your daughter!?" Lowkey shouted with surprise, standing up, hooves on the table.

"Not so loud!" his host coldly scolded, before wincing in disgust. "Also, you'll need to change that name."

Lowkey quietly sat back on his chair, still looking confused, but also amazed.

In the meantime, Cozy hadn't said a word. She was trying her best to hold her nerves, to not shake too much, at least not her forelegs, since that would be noticeable. She held her tears as best as she could, her father would have beaten her if she cried during a dinner. But it was hard. So hard to just hold back, bottle-up everything.

That's why he hadn't said anything when Lowkey had told she looked dumb. Her father had the choice to either defend his family, his pride, his honor, by putting his guest back in his place. Or, agree, and secure a marriage that she hadn't even been told about in the first place. This was how little she meant to him, between standing up for her or pat a commoner in the back, he had chosen the latter.

Because there was no pride for her. Nothing worth defending, faced with the possibility of having a unicorn in the line.

Cozy knew why.

Cozy Glow stopped in her story, slightly scratching her head from embarrassment.

"Something's wrong...?" Starlight kindly asked.

She knew there were a lot of things wrong, of course. That's why they were here in the first place. But something had changed in the salmon-pink mare's eyes.

"I... I am scared to talk about what followed."

"Go on, Cozy," the headmare reassured. "It happened either way. No ghost is going to jump at you to bring you back to those times."

Cozy Glow took in a deep breath, before she resumed her story.

After the dinner was finished, Cozy led her guests to their bedroom, wishing them goodnight. Afterwards, the little pegasus was summoned to her father's study and so, like a good filly, she went.

The room was what you'd expect from a noble house, one wall dedicated to shelves and books, the other mainly composed of a great and large window with metal framing, oriented such that it would always catch the moon and its light at the highest part of the night. The other walls were reserved for portraits and a whole family tree.

The special things around were the lights. Levitating in each corner of the room, lighting up on their own when the night fell, all with a different color. Blue, yellow, green and red. And, in the middle, a desk.

Her father was sitting behind it, examining some weird artifact that looked like a crown. Cozy knocked on the open door, to signal her presence.

"Come in," her father replied with the same uncaring tone he always had with her.

The filly obeyed and walked up to his desk, curious. With caution, she slowly asked, already looking apologizing:

"Did I do something wrong at the di-"

She was interrupted by a dry slap on the cheek. The translucent flat piece of magic stayed near the filly, menacingly, ready to do it again. Cozy held back a yelp and only rubbed her cheek, waiting for the reason to be spoken. As he always did, and this time wasn't different.

"Why did you look simple-minded?" he coldly asked, glancing at her.

"I was just-" Cozy began quietly, before being slapped again, sending her muzzle to the side.

"I can't hear you when you speak like that."

She heard it, in his tone. Clearer than ever, that hate for her that he was always trying to hide, to hold back, to no avail. This time, it had spoken with no veil. It wasn't an anger provoked by some bad attitude of hers, those were just the excuses. He despised her very existence. Yet, not moving her head to not contrary him, she still answered, louder:

"I was-"

Another slap, on the other cheek this time, causing her muzzle to face him again.

"Look me in the eyes when you talk to me."

She did, staying focused on her answer, despite the tears which began to appear at the edges of her eyes, both from the physical but also psychological pain. She would feel those slap for a day, at least.

"I was just smiling," she finally managed to say. "As you told me to."

"Are you blaming me?" her father growled.

She had expected another slap, yet none came for now. So, she followed:

"I'm guessing it is just like he said: It's a pegasus thing. I'm sorry for looking dumb, father. Maybe it'll get better when I grow up."

Yet again, no slap. The magical slat wasn't gone, but it didn't make any sudden movement.

"Maybe," her father replied.

"Is t-"

Again, and this time stronger than the previous ones. Enough so that it left a mark under her coat and she felt her teeth hurting. Yet, she stayed standing, trying not to wave too much. He hated that, when she looked weak.

"You didn't thank me," he said, returning to his artifact.

"My apologies. Thank you, father."

She knew asking "for what" would be a bad idea. Even if she had no idea what he was referring to. Which seemed to be planned, as he asked:

"Do you even know for what? Make your brain work, it's about the only thing you have going for yourself."

Cozy did think about it. And it appeared to her quite quickly, in fact:

"You've managed to arrange my future wedding. I'll be married to a unicorn, and our line will keep on living. Maybe that way I can give birth to a unicorn too and... erase my mistake."

How painful it was for her to say it. But it is what her father wanted to hear. That she recognized she was, herself, her own mistake. The tears were slowly flowing on her face, but she kept her stance, doing her best to not have a quivering voice.

Her father seemed somewhat pleased with her answer.

"Exactly."

Cozy stared at him for a moment, in silence, as he was still levitating and turning the artifact with great care. He hadn't told her to leave, so she couldn't. The month prior, he had her stay like this for two hours.

Then, suddenly, without any warning, another slap. Even stronger than the one before, it threw the little filly on the floor, one tooth escaping her mouth and getting lost under a shelf.

"When I was your age, I could already make a shield to protect myself from that," her father whispered through gritted teeth.

"I-I'm sorry," she said, slowly getting up, her legs shaking.

She couldn't contain a sob, a little stream of blood running from her lips. She couldn't do anything, just react and try to not anger him any further. She felt powerless, even her life wasn't in her own hooves. It never had been.

"Out, now," her father said with a dried tone, the small magical slat disappearing. "You should already be in your room by now."

"I'm sorry, Father," she replied with a shaky voice, trying not to sniff too loud. "Good night."

She bowed with as much politeness as her legs allowed her, staining the floor with a bit of blood and her tears, before she left the room.

Silence fell in the headmare's office. Starlight's eyes had filled with concern, looking at the now grown pegasus. Cozy was understandably upset, staring at the floor with a frown. The old pegasus by her side wrapped a scraggy wing around her, as a way of comforting her, which she did appreciate.

"I'm sorry you grew up in that kind of place..." Starlight whispered.

"It's over now..." Cozy said, more to convince herself that it was than anything. "But... It's not the worst thing that happened that night..."

I went back to my room to cry. I could taste the blood in my mouth, feel my painful cheeks becoming wet, my vision blurry. I can't describe what I felt at this moment. My very existence was something my parents didn't care for, that they outright hated, and it had always felt like that. And yet, for some reasons, they were keeping me alive, only to make me understand that I shouldn't be.

For a moment, I thought about... I could drown in the fountain, I could let myself fall from the roof, I could just venture into the woods and let one of the horrible creatures there devour me. That would have been easier, or at least temporary. It would have been an end.

But, in the midst of that darkness, I realized something. Something that changed my mind. My life had only one problem, and there was a solution, here, sleeping in this house.

In the darkness of her bedroom, the filly progressively stopped her tears. A thought had been formed in her head and was taking it over. Her cheeks were still reddened, her eyes still moist, but her gaze had become absent, overwhelmed by that idea.

She stood up on her sheets, sniffing distractedly. Her mind was focused on one thing. She didn't even notice the steps she took, heading out of her bedroom on the first floor and towards the guest room on the second. She didn't hear the stairs cracking slightly under her small hooves, nor did she hear the door as she opened it.

Before she knew it, she was among the sleeping guests, facing the cradle. Wrapped in little blankets, there he was. The little baby unicorn, sleeping quietly, with his cute little blue face and his brown mane. Her future husband.

I realized what I was missing...

She haphazardly flew above the cradle, using her wings without really noticing it, and took the baby in her legs. He felt so light, she could fly with him despite barely learning to do it. And she did. She headed for the window, opening it just enough to fit through it with him, throwing herself under the moonlight.

She hovered in the air, in the cold and silent night, looking at the doll-like foal in her hooves, before quietly landing next to the fountain.

The little thing hadn't even woken up. He was still peacefully resting, a shiver running along his small body in the coldness of the night. As the filly observed him, her absent eyes suddenly focusing on his forehead, with a dark glimmer in them.

I was missing a horn...

She grabbed him firmly and bashed his head against the marble of the fountain. A disgusting fleshy sound echoed through the night, before she shoved him again. And again. And again.

He didn't even make a noise... I think he couldn't just from the first hit... But I kept on smashing his little head against the rock... Every time, it felt even softer than before, every time the fountain became redder, every time there was less of him to bash against the marble... And all the while, I was making sure I didn't hit the horn in the process. That was the only thing I could think about. I didn't think about him, about his pain, I had been taught to not really care for those outside the family. And he wasn't even old enough to think, to dream. Killing him this young was less cruel than to kill someone my age. Or so I thought, at the time.

The filly kept on doing it, relentlessly, her mind someplace else, her consciousness implicitly accepting it, while refusing to see it for what it was. If she was to be a monster for her family, she would be one they love.

Covered in blood and other despicable remains, she finally stopped, looking at the almost headless baby, pulling on what was left of his cranium with her teeth and tearing away the horn. She dropped the body, holding preciously the small blue appendage. She had one. Her heart felt a cursed happiness, a dark relief, as she gazed at it. There was hope for her.