Dr Whooves MONSTER

Chapter 6

With the sound of a party cannon going off in a cemetery I found myself staring at not just one, but two gravestones. On one was engraved "To Stygian," though it was left empty due to my work. The only thing buried was his pendant. And up a ways away from him sat none other than the party as they gathered around a gravestone. Funny, I didn’t think setting off a party cannon in the middle of a graveyard was a custom. But the Apple family certainly were a lively bunch who remembered every member of their clan and partied as if their deceased were right there standing next to them.

As I slowly approached the Apple family to give my condolences, I quickly decided not to, on the count that I couldn’t even look any member of the family in the eye. Twenty years— that is how long it’s been. Twenty years. Two decades since their mother put her faith in me to save her. And what did I do? I wasted it. The very night after my horrible attempt to bring back Stygian, she had died, and it wasn’t long until her husband died along with her from a broken heart.

While no, it wasn’t my fault, I did feel very guilty. After all, it was I who promised her I would do everything in my power to help her. And in the end, I failed not only her, but myself as well.

With that in mind, I quickly decided to head home. As I walked the roads of the small city. Yes, city. The so-called backwater town now had roads of brick lit by electric lamps that were far more efficient than the old oil ones that littered the streets before. It was now a bustling city. A small one, barely big enough to hold that title. But it definitely changed in the last twenty years.

A grand school was built not too far from the city, constructed by Princess Twilight herself, who had a summer home placed not too far away from the church. That brought plenty of new opportunities for the small town to grow. Not only did Ponyville now host a growing population, but it had a great set of entrepreneurs who opened stores and built their homes not too far away. Still, it was good business, and along with it, good progress for most at least.

However, with more business came more competition, and in a short while, I was a doctor who now worked in a large hospital instead of out of my home office. The most I was ever allowed to do was examine and bandage a wound. With more and more creatures moving in and a scientific mind prevailing, the idea that any magic other than the basic levitation spell was of any use died out. No longer did the church or unicorns heal the sick and the wounded. No longer did anyone drink herbal tea as a remedy for magic imbalance. No, instead, now they all looked at modern medicine—pills full of strange ingredients which I haven’t the foggiest idea of what was inside them.

It’s funny, I long ago would have wished for this, due to my own atheism and lack of faith in the old ways of magic. But as I looked over at the sterile white walls of the hospital, I soon found myself saddened by the sudden shifts in medical practice, especially now that I knew some of it, if not all of it, was indeed real if not better than the medicine we hold so dear nowadays.

With a groan, I fixed my top hat and began walking past it. Today was not a workday, and with my grey hairs coming in, it would soon be time to retire from such work. Going on my way, I was at least kindly greeted by the city folk.

Smiles and waves from both my patients of the past and from the crowd who knew of me. All I had to do was ignore their snickers and laughter after they would use the nickname I had gathered over the years.

A passing young mare named Scootaloo walked up beside me, greeting me like all the rest. “Morning, Dr. Nuts! Hey, how’s that monster of yours?” she smiled wide as she prepared to walk alongside me.

As she said it, many of those in the crowd giggled. I could hear it, yet I only rolled my eyes at the idea. “Just make sure you don’t go near that forest,” I warned her.

“Oh yes,” said another voice from behind, this time a young male. “It’s almost Nightmare Night. Hey, you don’t think the monster would cone here, do ya?” he said before clutching his stomach and laughing in my face.

“Hay stop being rude, I mean, you don’t want the monster to come to your house every night and torment you, do you?” Scootaloo replied trying to hold back her own laughter and failing to do so, to my face.

“What could I do, except groan at the stupidity of the youth? They knew not of my experience. They knew nothing of the horrors I witnessed, the horrors I committed. Instead, I just tipped my hat to them and walked away as they called for my new name.

“Oh wait, Dr. Nuts, we didn’t mean to upset you! It’s Nightmare Night,” Called Scootaloo as she pulled out a flyer. “The church is hosting a party!”

Ah yes, the Nightmare Night Costume Gala, which started not long after the next generation was born. That’s all the church was used for these days. Despite them all having a sun pendant, the youth today definitely did not understand what it truly meant to have faith in the old ways. As for me, I hadn’t walked back into the church since the day after the horrific night.

…

Running back into the church that morning, I went up to Star Swirl, frantic and frightened as ever, as I called out, “Monster! There’s a monster in the forest! I saw it with my own eyes!”

Star Swirl at the time was looking over the stolen graves when I found him in the church’s morgue. “Good morning to you too, Doctor,” he raised an eyebrow as he noted down what was robbed.

Little did he know I was the culprit who did it. Little did he know I used them to create a monster. I couldn’t tell him that; all I could do was grab him by the collar. “Sir, a monster! A great monster is in the woods! I saw it with my own eyes.”

“Probably just another manticore.”

“No, sir, no! You must listen to me! We must burn down the forest! We must burn it to the ground, and all its inhabitants, or that monster will eat us all!”

“Monster?” asked another mare who overheard.

“Yes, yes, a monster!”

“And how would you describe such a beast?” asked another colt as he grabbed his gun.

“Tall, has a horn and antlers, and a lion’s arm!” I spat wildly.

“A what?” shouted the colt with the gun.

“Yes, yes! It also has the leg of a deer and the other a lizard!”

The room fell silent for a moment before laughter erupted from them all.

“I get it, Nightmare Night! The kids must have scared you good, Dr. Whooves.”

“No, no, no! Listen to me!” I frantically spat. “There in the old castle, once the woods sits a monster who wishes to eat us all!”

“Castle in the woods?” laughed the mare.

“Yes!” Dr. Whooves interjected. “There is no castle in the woods. I went through that entire forest and have never once seen any evidence.”

“No, no! I traveled there! It took me four days and four nights to…”

“Sir, do you even know what day it is? It’s the day after Nightmare Night, sir. You went nowhere.”

“What— but— but,”

“It seems you must have had a bad dream. Perhaps you’ve contracted the same illness as your patients.”

“But—!”

“Go home, Dr. Whooves Get some rest,” Star Swirl instructed before he sat on a bench with a tired sigh. “Perhaps I have been working you too hard. And with the death of Stygian, it is clear you’ve cracked, my good sir. I don’t blame you; I too think I will retire.”

With the old pony’s words, the room gasped.

“But Star Swirl, sir,” the colt with the gun stood up.

“Quiet, Shotgun… I am getting too old for this. The church I leave to you now, now let this old pony rest,” he solemnly stated before heading away.

…

That was the last I saw of Star Swirl. No, he didn’t die; in fact, he still lives in the church but is no longer the head of it, fully retired from his work. As for me, I ran through the town, trying to tell anyone who would believe me about the monster… but as soon as I started describing the beast, they all laughed and thought I was just dreaming. And so, after twenty years, this was my final fate. Dr. Hooves, the brilliant scientific mind set on finding a cure for an impossible illness, was now labeled a fraud, the late Apple’s husband, and was claimed to be Dr. Nuts. This is why I was only allowed to bandage a patient and never allowed to autopsy them, as they all believed I had gone crazy.

And perhaps they were right. Perhaps I had gone crazy. Perhaps it was all just a dream. After all, other than the occasional strange beastly cry from the forest, which most considered to be just a wild hurt animal, there was no change between then and now. No sighting of the beast had ever been seen by anyone except for me. Often, through the nights, I would relive my worst memories of that fateful day, but that was just it, wasn’t it? It was all just a crazed dream—a dream I let ruin my life for over twenty years. And now, now I am old, I am tired… and I would like to move on. Lowering my hat over my gaze, feeling weak as always, I walked my path, alone.

A few steps later, though, and to my surprise, I literally bumped into the dress of someone. She, though, did not do more than take a step back and catch me, making sure I did not fall.

“Da— Dr. Whooves,” stuttered a small, beautiful, angelic-like voice. The voice alone struck my ears like the softest and sweetest of music. Knowing full well who that voice belonged to, I immediately leaped back onto my feet, fixing my hat and hoping I wasn’t blushing too much like a fool.

“Madam Shy, of the Shy household,” I grinned, hoping my cheeks weren’t as red as they felt. “I’m terribly sorry, I was lost in thought and wasn’t watching where I was going. Tell me, how is your rabbit?”

“Fine, actually,” she replied with the smallest of smiles. “I only hope to become a vet one day so I don’t have to rely on you to bandage him when he gets hurt.”

Despite my conversational skills, one look at her and my mind went blank; I hadn’t the foggiest idea of what she had just said. The basic word of beauty was merely a disservice to her.

Had Miss Fluttershy not been a mare, I would have believed her to be a goddess, an angel among our mortal kind. She was quietly beautiful, but not extraordinarily so. She didn’t have to try. She wore no makeup on her lips or powder on her nose. In fact, from all accounts, most would probably call her rather plain-looking at first glance. It wasn’t until you saw her up close that she truly shined. Other mares, especially older ones, had to wear wigs or makeup to hide their aging wrinkles. She, however, was spotless, except for a small laugh line that framed her lips perfectly. She was a bright yellow pony whose color outshone even the sun. Her soft, rosy pink locks framed her face delicately, yet she often used them to cover and hide under, as she was quiet and shy in nature. As she was doing now, all I could see was the faint outline of one of her eyes, a crystal teal blue that made even the ocean’s hello ice seem unclear in comparison. Coupled with a simple figure, with curves in all the right places, she stood out in her green dress, which she wore often for school. It flared out perfectly at her waist side, making her look like a princess in ration. And yet, she was none of the sort—a daughter of a cloud manufacturer, a wealthy profession perhaps, but not so high-class as to be snooty. And on top of that, merely a young mare, not a filly, barely marriage age.

With a blissful sigh louder than I would have liked to express, the thought of such a mare by my bedside left a stupid smile on my face.

She was just barely marriage age, and with it, no doubt, many men would be after her hoof. I was certain her father must have had thousands asking him for a proposal these days.

Had I a son, I too would be barking at his throat on his behalf for her hand. But the years had left me empty-handed. Perhaps it was because no one wanted to be called Mrs. Nuts, or perhaps it was my so-called focus on a possibly imaginary monster that had left me without anyone by my bedside.

Yet, despite that, was it really too late? I was, after all, barely middle-aged myself. I was still quite young, in fact. And the sight of her only made me feel more so. Perhaps this is what I needed—a chance to move on from my past and start anew. To find a mare and settle down with my life. Or perhaps I had found a mare, and I only needed her hoof.

With that in mind, I straightened my back, fixed my hat, giving it a small dip in her direction, as any gentleman should. “Good to hear, madam. Do you, um, have any plans?”

“My—plans,” her eyes shot wide. “Well, no, I mean, my family is forcing me to go to that awful Nightmare Night dance next Friday. Other than that, I nearly have my school—”

“Fluttershy!” Scootaloo shouted from a distance.

“Oh, it’s Scootaloo, I better get going,” she politely gave a small curtsy with her dress before clutching her purse tighter and heading away, leaving me with a smile.

She was nearly half my age, but not exactly. And she was marriage age, after all—was it truly so inappropriate to ask her for her plans? Setting a hoof on my chin and turning back on my way, I knew exactly what I had to do. First, I would ask her father to take her to the dance, and then, while they were distracted, convince her to let me court her. I stopped midway, and my lips nearly hit the ground.

“Friday—it was Monday; I have less than a week to learn how to dance! Note to self: pick up a book on dancing at the library.”

“Yes, if I could impress her with a dance and show I am far more than just an old, crazy doctor, surely then she’ll agree to be my wife.”

…

And as I headed on my way to the library for that book, the cloud factory of the town was right next door, perfect to set my plans into motion.

As an earth pony with no wings or magic of my own, I’m sure I was a funny sight to many when I started my path up the thousands of steps that led to the cloud factory.

Make no mistake, despite the name, the cloud factory was not a fluffy place of rainbows and snowflakes. It was a masterful building of the weather—a factory in its truest sense. Using water and air mixed at different pressures, the pegasi mastered the art of cloud-making. And it was here I would find my next obstacle to Miss Shy's heart. There, showing a new colt by the looks of him, sat Mr. Shy forging a thundercloud. Dressed as a worker should be, in his blue denim overalls, the green pegasus patted the kid on the back and asked, "Think you got it, son?"

To which the boy nodded and began his work as the master of his craft left with a grin and headed to his office as an observer of the manufacturing. I quickly followed him to his office, hoping to ask my question. But as I approached the door with the man’s name on it, I paused and took a breath, preparing myself for the task at hand. After a moment of psyching myself up, I dashed inside the office to find the man holding a cigar in his hoof.

“Ahh, Dr. Whooves, let me guess. My daughter brought you her rabbit for more bandages, didn’t she? I’ll have to talk to her about spending all my money on that little devil,” he chuckled before putting down the cigar and pulling out his wallet from his back pocket. “What is the damage this time?” he asked joyfully, as the sound of a thunderstrike outside made me jolt.

He snickered at my reaction, giving me a side-eye. “It’s a weather factory; it happens all the time here.”

“But of course.” I cleared my throat, both from the fear of the lightning and my own anxiety about my next question. “Anyway, Mr. Shy, please put your wallet away; I am here for no such accessories. I’m afraid I have other business to discuss,” I said as I took the empty chair across from the desk.

“Other business?” The light-green pegasus raised an eyebrow as he puffed on his cigar. His demeanor instantly changed from a friendly worker to a serious bloke.

On the one hand, sure, he wasn’t dressed in a fancy uniform coat and hat, but somehow the grease on his hands, the oil stain on his face, and the cluttered worker uniform gave the man an even more intimidating look than one of great wealth.

This was not a man of high class but of high work ethic, and somehow I didn’t know which was worse to deal with at the moment. However, I couldn’t help but feel a strange relief when I noticed how gray he looked. His hair was thinning, and his hairline looked as if he would go bald within the next decade. He was clearly older than I, and somehow, despite my own gray hairs, it gave me great relief to know that the father of the mare I was after was at least older than me, if only a little.

“And what business brings someone of your expertise, then?” he asked. I could hear it in his tone—the shift in the weight of his words clearly showed he was serious. Too serious.

Clearing my throat again, I said in a far too high-pitched voice, “Personal business, actually, Mr. Shy. I’m here to discuss your daughter.”

The mere mention of his child in the conversation shifted his eyebrow lower and narrowed his eyes.

“My daughter, you say?”

I nodded.

“I see…” he slowly muttered, as if contemplating what to say next. “And what is my daughter to you?”

He nearly groaned, a warning to me.

“Sir,” I nervously stuttered as my nerves began to shake my lower legs. I silently begged whatever god there was—Celestia or whoever—that the man didn’t realize my weakened state. “There is a party, the Nightmare Night gala, at the church. Surely she is going, and I thought perhaps I could take her, in hopes of making sure she had a safe journey.”

“A safe journey, yes. After all, there are such monsters on Nightmare Night, aren’t there?” he said with a grin, despite the unchanging tone.

I knew exactly what he meant by that too. It was his way of digging at me again, mocking me like they all do—like they always did. The only one who never mocked me, at least not to my face, was sweet Fluttershy. For her, I had to stand my ground. For once in my life, I could not falter due to my past mistakes. I had to make my mark and every intention I had clear in this very moment, or my silence would forever consume and haunt me just as the dreams of the monster did.

Raising my chin in the air so I looked squarely into the pegasus's eyes, I simply and politely stated, “Sir, I wouldn’t just want to chaperone her. I wish to court her—with your and her permission, of course.”

The mere words brought no emotion out of the colt. He sat nearly speechless, staring coldly into my face as the smoke of his cigar encircled his head.

“Aren’t you a little old?” he asked, taking the cigar out of his hand.

“I am younger than you, and besides, as a doctor, my profession has given me decent wealth—enough to care for her properly, I assure you.”

“Yes, but…” he sighed, never taking his eyes off me. Instead, I could feel his gaze sizing me up as if he were assessing my very worth. “My daughter has plenty of options, even those much more eligible than you, and far younger, and certainly far better looking than you,” he said, with a rise in his voice, a notch so I would hear every word as clear as day. It was clear he wasn’t fooling around, not when it came to his daughter.

My hooves nervously ran down the collar of my jacket. Even so, despite the shake it left in my leg, I had not backed down from his gaze even an inch. Finally, when I could speak again, I told him, “She would be happy with me, sir; I can assure you. My intellect alone far outclasses the mere boys she used to. I am a man offering her a good life—if only she and you would accept it.”

As if on cue, the old pony finally loosened the tension in his muscles and seemed to be mulling over my words. He soon brought his cigar back to his lips but didn’t smoke again. Instead, his eyes softened and he gave a light nod. “Tell you what, Dr. Hooves: you are a kind and fine man. Many of which today do not have the decency we did in our younger days.”

His gaze then raised to mine, and he leaned over his desk once more, closer to me, making sure that he was looking me straight in the eye.

“As a father, I only wish for my daughter to be happy. I did everything I could to give her what I didn’t have growing up. You remember how things used to be, before this factory and the school? The dirt streets, the oil lamps, the church—houses built on the backs of men, not metal machines. For that reason and that alone, I will pass on your offer to my daughter and let her decide for herself. She is a mare now, and while I wish I could keep her locked and protected, I know she must live by her own choices.”

With that, a relieved “Thank you, sir!” erupted from my throat as I began to prepare for my leave. But as I quickly reached the door, he stopped me with:

“However—“

I suddenly felt like I was dead myself. I was so cold all over as I waited for his words. I could tell by the sound of the creak in his chair that, without looking at him, I could see him leaning back, inhaling his cigar.

“I wouldn’t get your hopes up too high, Dr. Nuts. I truly feel there’s a better chance of us finding your monster than scoring a date with my daughter.” He laughed, his cigar in hand.

I clenched my teeth at the implication but soon let it go, knowing full well the colt was right. Saying not another word, I left, a heavier pit in my stomach than before.