Corpse Flower

It wanted to grow.

And to grow, it needed the magic that flowed in the flesh and blood of earth ponies. Getting the magic that it craved wasn't something hard for it to do—its natural beauty and heavenly scent were more than enough to lure in unsuspecting victims.

Ponies young and old came from all over Equestria just to admire it, but none of them realized until it was too late that the innocent-looking rose was going to kill them; nopony knew that it was a monster masked as a beautiful flower. From its first moment of life, it was destined to cause death.

On the stormy night the rose was created, its maker, an arrogant red stallion, died very suddenly right after he had sprouted it with his magic.

Whenever he wanted to be by himself, Sprout Cloverleaf visited a lonely, peaceful cliff that overlooked the endless blue ocean of Maretime Bay. Although he hated the long walk to get there, Sprout guessed the privacy was worth the leg work. Almost nopony came out so far from the seaside town to where the cliff was.

Sprout was at that same steep cliff one cloudy evening relaxing after another boring day of doing community service. Below him, waves spewed foam into the air as they crashed against jagged boulders that protruded out of the water.

Sitting on the soft grass, he inhaled the salty air and exhaled angrily. All the miserable sweeping and cleaning he was forced to do around town made him long to be deputy sheriff again.

Being in charge, ordering ponies around—that's what I should be doing! Sure, I proclaimed myself emperor of Maretime Bay and nearly started a war by telling everypony to attack the unicorns and pegasi after Hitch left town, but so what? I still deserve to be in command! he thought.

Squawking seagulls flew around in the fading daylight despite the bad weather. From the look of the clouds, it was probably going to rain.

The gloomy sky matched Sprout's unhappy mood perfectly. Mommy had wanted him to be sheriff more than anything, but he had let her down. He would make her proud—eventually. Nopony realized how amazing he was, not even Mommy.

Even Posey was too stuck up to see his awesomeness. She always turned her back to him when he got near her. Back when he was deputy, they used to chat together and have actual conversations, mostly because he would keep pestering her until she talked to him. Despite her rejection, he couldn't help but think about how stunning she was when she was out in the bright sunshine; her vivid colors seemed to glow in the daylight.

Sprout was sure she secretly had a crush on him—after all, he was very good-looking. Sprout watched the blades of grass rustling in the breeze. Probably she's too distracted daydreaming about that jerk Hitch to notice a really handsome stallion like me. Sprout rolled his eyes.

While he was staring at the ground, an idea popped into his mind. Growing something amazing would impress Posey. Maybe I could grow a huge bouquet of magical flowers for her! On second thought, maybe it's better to grow just one flower… yeah, that sounds easier. Anypony can grow a bunch of plain flowers, but it takes skill to grow one really special flower. And nopony in Maretime Bay has better plant-growing skills than me! With my eyes closed, I could totally grow her a flower that's twice as beautiful as she is!

"Okay, let's do this!” Sprout confidently declared, rubbing his forehooves together. He stood up, stretched his legs, and took a deep breath. Squeezing his eyes shut, Sprout concentrated as he stomped his hoof twice. Spiraling swirls of green magic flowed from his glowing hoof and dissolved into the ground. Within seconds, a plant sprouted up through the grass. Cautiously opening one eye, in front of him he saw a… cactus.

"What the heck?!" shouted Sprout. "Why is there a—I wasn't even thinking about a stupid cactus!" The cactus bloomed a few flowers as if to please him. Snorting, he stomped his hoof and it magically disappeared back into the ground.

"Focus, Sprout, focus!" he told himself as he repeatedly hit his forehead.

Sprout made another attempt, and another. The sky darkened as he tirelessly grew and ungrew different flowers. Although his hoof was sore from stomping, he continued to strain his magic to grow the perfect flower. He didn't slow his pace even as the first rain drops came down.

Rain was getting in his eyes and his mane and fur were soaked, but Sprout stubbornly refused to give up. He was unaware that the dirt beneath him was loosening up.

'I'm the one with the most powerful magic in the bay!" Sprout declared, slamming down his muddy hoof. "I'm the ultimate plant-grower!"

With a thud he sat down on the damp grass, shivering with his head hanging low. Sprout clenched his teeth as tears formed in the corners of his eyes.

"I just want one decent, stupid flower! Just one stupid flower!" he yelled as he struck the ground for the last time.

Immediately the weak ground broke apart and Sprout, completely caught off guard, fell from the crumbling cliff top.

"MOMMYYY!!!" he screamed, his legs flailing as he plummeted towards the sharp rocks below. The last thing he saw was dark water and boulders before his head smashed against stone. Blood splattered in all directions.

Thunder growled ominously and lightning lit up the night. Sprout's lifeless body lay splayed over a slick boulder, pelted by the heavy downpour.

Poor Sprout. It was a shame that he couldn't see the perfect ruby-red rose that he had made.

On the cliff top, he had unintentionally triggered his plant magic when he had hit the ground. Taking shape in midair from a falling clump of earth, a fully-formed rose landed on Sprout's body with a gentle thump.

The beautiful but fragile flower was taking a beating from the thunderstorm. Its thin roots searched for something to take hold of, and finding Sprout's leg, it quickly anchored itself to it to keep from being swept away by the waves.

Seawater washed over the dead stallion and the newborn rose. Eventually the restless sea carried Sprout's body away from the boulders. Throughout the stormy night, his body drifted aimlessly, bobbing in the swells until it washed up on a beach early the next morning. Its thin stem was broken, its leaves were torn off, and many petals were missing, but somehow the rose had managed to stay attached during the whole ordeal, although it was barely alive.

News traveled fast in the town of Maretime Bay, and soon curious ponies were gathering at the beach to see the body that had mysteriously appeared overnight. One look at the dead pony and they all knew who it was.

Sprout's mother, Phyllis Cloverleaf, had spent the whole night awake worrying and waiting for her son to come home. He had missed dinner, something he had never done before. The bleary-eyed mare was just falling asleep when she heard the doorbell. When she opened the door, Hitch informed her as gently as he could that Sprout's body had been found on the beach.

Phyllis stood there staring at him, not comprehending the words he had just spoken, but the pain she saw in his grieving eyes scared her. She was sure he was wrong, but she followed him to the beach anyway.

They had to push their way past dozens of murmuring and whispering ponies when they arrived. When they finally got through the crowd, Phyllis saw a red stallion lying in the sand with seaweed tangled around his limbs. His face was turned the ocean, so she couldn't tell for sure if it was Sprout from where she was. With her heart pounding, she galloped towards the stallion to get a better look.

Trotting quickly after her, Hitch warned her to stop, but she ignored him–she had to see who it was. He stopped in his tracks and closed his eyes, knowing his efforts were pointless.

Waves slowly lapped at the body. Now she could see that it was Sprout; she gasped with horror when she saw his crushed, disfigured face. Whirling around, she screamed, "Somepony get help! GET HELP!" at Hitch and the ponies in the crowd.

Nopony moved. Some of them gazed at her with looks of sympathy, while others stared with eyes full of fear. A few ponies simply watched her without emotion.

"DO SOMETHING instead of gawking so much!" Phyllis snarled at the onlookers.

They backed away, startled by her outburst, and less-courageous ponies took off running. Hitch sternly ordered the crowd to leave.

Turning back to her son, trembling, she reached out and touched Sprout's damp chest, hoping to feel his beating heart. She felt icy coldness instead of the familiar warmth of his body, and there was no heartbeat.

Approaching her slowly, Hitch wrapped his foreleg around Phyllis to lead her away from the gruesome scene, but she shoved his leg off her shoulders and collapsed beside Sprout. Shaking her son frantically, she begged him to respond, but he never moved or made a sound.

It didn't surprise Phyllis that only three ponies attended Sprout's funeral at the cemetery. Hitch, Sunny, and Posey silently stood by her side. Each of them had brought flowers.

Phyllis stared at the white casket in front of her, feeling too numb to cry after weeping for so many hours. Although it was a bright spring day, the heat of the sun failed to keep her warm, so she wore a scarf and a sweater. Dressed in solid black, her dark clothing made her look pale. She had decided to not wear her pearls or makeup.

Making a speech was the last thing she wanted to do, but she knew she was the pony who should speak now. She was a natural public speaker, she always knew the right things to say to sway the crowds, but for the first time her tongue felt heavy.

"I don't want to have to be here at my son's funeral," Phyllis began. Her sore eyes rested on each of the ponies. "None of us want to be here." Tears ran down Sunny's cheeks as she leaned her head on Hitch's shoulder. He and Posey kept their eyes on the ground, their heads lowered. "I still think this is a just another nightmare that I'll wake up from." She closed her eyes and shook her head.

"I wish I had known what was going on in that head of his. Oh, if I had only known! He was always so proud, I never thought he would… do what he did. I had so many hopes and dreams for him, I wanted him to become somepony important—but now he's left me." Phyllis paused for a moment as she broke into tears.

"I'd rather be in one of these," she sobbed, resting her hoof on the casket, "and buried here in this graveyard than live the rest of my life without my sugarcube." She couldn't contain her despair anymore. "I wish I died instead of him!" she wailed.

Phyllis put her head against Sprout's casket and cried. Hitch and Sunny embraced Phyllis comfortingly, holding the grief-stricken mare as they wept with her. Posey watched the three of them, feeling awkward and out of place.

After Phyllis had stopped crying, they broke their embrace and solemnly placed their flowers on top of the casket. Posey did the same with her bouquet.

"There's nothing left to do now but bury him," Phyllis stated miserably to the three ponies. She took off her eyeglasses to dry her eyes with a hoofkerchief. "Go home, sugarcubes." The trio glanced at each other, hesitant to leave.

Sunny spoke up. "We're not going to leave you here alone, Mrs. Cloverleaf. You need somepony to be with you now more than ever."

"I'll be fine, Sunny," Phyllis replied as she put on her eyeglasses. She placed her hoof on Sunny's cheek. "Don't worry. What I need right now is to be alone. Go on home. You've done your part. There's not much else you can do, sugarcube."

As they reluctantly turned to leave, Phyllis suddenly said, "Posey, wait."

Posey turned around, surprised that Phyllis had spoken to her directly. "Yes, Mrs. Cloverleaf?" she politely asked.

"Posey, I'm sorry, I forgot to ask you a favor." Phyllis picked up a clay flower pot that had been kept out of sight.

Planted in the pot was a shriveled thing that slightly resembled a rose. "Back at the beach, I found this rose on Sprout. I have to admit it doesn't look much like a rose now. I tried to make it better myself, but new-fangled plant magic didn't help much, I don't know why." She frowned. "You've got such a talent for flower-tending… can you save it?" she pleaded with her sorrowful blue eyes.

Posey eyed the pathetic plant Phyllis was showing her, doubtful if there was any life in it or if it was even worth saving.

Sensing her uncertainty, Phyllis quickly added, "Please, Posey, it needs your help. Call it mother's instinct, but I know this rose was important to Sprout. There must have been a reason why it was with him. Even if there's nothing special about this flower, I'd hate to see it wither away."

It's already wilted! Posey remarked to herself. "To be honest, I don't know, Mrs. Cloverleaf…" she cautiously replied.

Phyllis lowered her head. Posey didn't want to cause her more grief.

"…but I'll see what I can do," Posey finished. Relieved, Phyllis carefully hoofed her the potted rose as if it were a newborn foal.

"Thank you so much, sugarcube," Phyllis said, her eyes shining with hope. "I know it's silly, but I guess I've started thinking of it as a little piece of Sprout… it's all I have left of him." She smiled weakly at Posey through her tears.

Posey felt pity for her. On a whim, she gave Phyllis a hug, saying softly, "It's not silly, Mrs. Cloverleaf."

She bid her goodbye before rejoining Sunny and Hitch, who had been patiently waiting for her. The trio slowly walked past gravestones as birds sang in the spring sunshine. They paused while Sunny put flowers on her parents' graves. After they had walked far enough from Phyllis, Sunny said, "If anypony can save that flower, it's you, Posey."

Posey glanced down at the ugly, withered plant she was holding and then looked back at Phyllis, who was now standing beside Sprout's headstone while two burly stallions lowered the casket into the ground.

"I hope so—for her sake."