I was scared.

No, scratch that, I was downright terrified.

She was leading me to my house which, for the second time, was about to become my grave. What is with that? I mean, I lived my whole life there. I have so many good memories of that place. It protected me for seven long, torturous, life-altering years, and once before I almost died there. Now, as Octavia trotted briskly in the familiar direction, her movements calm, I was returning in almost the same situation.

And it frightened me beyond the potential for rational thought.

But it’s okay; sometimes being in an irrational frame of mind could help. Right now, I didn’t need to be practical. I needed to survive.

As I watched Octavia’s rather large and, dare I say, shapely backside bounce from hip-to-hip, a comment I will blame on the recent sexual frustration which led my mind to the gutter, I devised a plan.

It was an unexpected plan. Something so out of left field, Octavia wouldn’t see it coming. It would give me that crucial moment, an advantage of surprise that lasted only the most fleeting of seconds, which would push me through to victory.

I was going to fight back.

For future reference, I was NOT thinking clearly at all over the course of the next few pathetic moments. I think it might have to do with my, once again, impending death. Let it be known that Vinyl Scratch does not do well under pressure involving life-ending circumstances, what with the forgetting I’m a unicorn and now this.

I waited, watching the area around us and trying to recall the route to my house that Octavia was using. It was the same one I ran almost every day, which meant there would be a small stretch, spanning the length of a block, which was always devoid of Vamponies. I don’t know why, but I had never seen a Vampony walk this street, bar Octavia when we trotted it together. That would be my chance.

I waited again, now devising a cunning method of overpowering Octavia in a physical confrontation. The first move would be crucial: there was no way I could do enough damage to anything but the weakest parts of her body. If I could give her swollen pussy lips a solid thump, it would immobilise her for an instant. Follow that up with a shot to stomach, to wind her. Then I could go for her eyes; the pain would probably be excruciating, and she would lose her strongest sense. I’d finish her off with a horn to the jugular, make her bleed out, and then high-tail it out of Canterlot tomorrow morning. I could lay low for a few weeks, and then change my look. Move to Manehatten, get a job in construction for half a year and then move on to a record store.

While my mind was distracted with, well, to be honest, I’m just going to attribute it to the situation, we entered the street. By the time I noticed, we had already passed half of it. I jumped into action, but my pathetic, desperate plan evaporated from my mind, leaving me with only my fight or flight instinct.

So I whipped my neck and yanked as hard as I could on the leash. I was rewarded with a surprised grunt as it flew out of Octavia’s mouth. I turned and made a beeline for the other end of the street, my only thought being “run”.

Of course, I felt the leash snap taught less than two seconds later. Obviously, it yanked me backwards and caused to me to land flat on my back, winding me. And just to add insult to injury, before I managed to catch my breath, she was standing above me, giving me the clearest “Did you really expect that to work?” look I had ever seen.

One thing I didn’t see coming was the lack of hunger in her expression, as well as the next words. I had been expecting something along the lines of “Dinner time”. Instead all she said was: “What are you doing?” It wasn’t so much the words as the tone she used. She sounded genuinely confused, as if it never crossed her mind that I might try and fight my way out.

Still, I knew when I was beat. I had lost my only chance at freedom. I felt a chill spread through my body, as if death was already sucking my spirit away. “My last fight. Yeah, it sucked, and yeah, I could have done better, but I’ll kick and punch you every step of the way. If I’m going to die today, I’m going down swinging!”

Her right eyebrow rose. She contemplated me for a few seconds, no doubt trying to formulate an adequate response to such a desperate threat.

“What are you talking about?”

We continued to stare at each other. “You’re dragging me back to my house to eat me.” I said. It was a statement, not a question.

Her expression became perplexed. “No?”

“No? What do you mean no? How can it be no? What else could you possibly be doing, acting so calm and going to my house instead of yours?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” She asked, a sneer in her tone. “I can’t bring you back to my house; the servants will ask questions. They’re already confused by the dress, all the time we spend alone and me wanting them out of the house. They’re completely bamboozled, and rightly so. Typically, a weekend leaves them both drained; I’m sure you can imagine why. They got less than a tenth the action they usually do, all because some snotty little unicorn has magically stolen every scrap of my attention. So no, my mansion is certainly not an option when you are displaying such clear signs of your “condition”.”

Her whole speech was frosty, her eyes glaring at me, chips of ice that pierced right through my head and infected my body with her frigid anger. She was pissed at… something.

“Now get up; you’re wasting time we could be spending treating whatever’s wrong with you.” She said, give an irate tug on the leash.

Never one to cross an emotionally unstable member of society, I scrambled back to my hooves. Somewhere along the walk I had managed to temporarily forget the pain, most likely due to my desperate attempts to save myself. Well, it returned full force now, and I groaned. If Octavia noticed, she pretended otherwise as she made no move to slow down.

I fell into step next to her, and suddenly my brain caught up to her words. “Treating?” I asked. “What do you mean treating? You’re going to help me get better?”

“Well OF COURSE I’m going to help you.” Her voice, although it was low and hissed, still carried as much weight as if she were shouting. “Are you dumb, or just stupid? Have I not told you that you’re the most delicious living thing in Equestria? I could have Brandon fetch me the best cuts of cow this city has to offer, or perhaps get Mark to go visit Manehatten for some of their famously seasoned fresh water shark. Heck, I could even send to Neighpone and ask for their largest, strongest, most prized bull elephant, along with a team of chefs to prepare it. They would be good, don’t get me wrong, but compared to a single sip of YOU, they all seem completely… lackluster. It’s like eating the most amazing dish in the world, then being offered something 10 times better, and then going back. Sure, it’s still good, but it’ll never quite be the same.

“Besides, even if you didn’t taste so amazing, you’re sick, and as your friend, I should help you.” She spat the word friend as if it were poison. “After all, *friends* tell each other when they’re hurt so that we don’t take stupid risks with our lives. *Friends* don’t keep secrets that the other *friend* could help with. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? A *friend*.”

Ah, now I understood the hurt. She felt betrayed…

I don’t really know why, but it made me amazingly irate that SHE felt betrayed by me! Oh, wait, yes I do.

“Friends don't tell their friends that the only reason they're alive is because they taste good! How often have you reminded me of it? How can I trust you when I'll always be just food? How can I possibly call you my friend with that hanging over my head?”

She whirled around in the street, the hurt much clearer in her eyes this time. “I was tempted beyond your understanding yesterday, but you’re still alive to show for my resistance. I let you walk around freely this morning while I was gone. I’m not locking you up in my room forever like a sensible, logical Vampony would do to their food! I’m coming as close as I can to treating you like a real friend! You have NO IDEA what I’m going through.”

“Don’t I? Well why don’t you tell me?”

Her hurt turned to anger, and she bared her fangs. “I’m fighting my own instincts! I’m fighting with the food chain to try and keep you alive! I’m fighting with my own kind to keep you alive. The LEAST you could do is tell me when there’s something that could give you away!”

“Maybe it’s because *I* don’t trust *you* not to eat me? A real *friend* doesn’t lock their friends up during the day like a pet that they’re scared might run away! A real *friend* doesn’t force their friend to cut themselves open for pleasure to the point of causing permanent damage!”

Our voices had been rising in volume, to the point where I knew Vamponies anywhere on the street could hear us. But I was way too mad and disoriented to care, or to even realise it.

“You need to learn some manners.” She hissed, her voice steely and flat, as if she was barely able to contain her anger. “I let you run free in my bedroom. I fed you, and I’ve given you a bed to sleep in. You haven’t lost anything by coming to my service except blood. And you WANT to gain something. But if you don’t start being more thankful to me, to your savior, then you can kiss that wish goodbye.”

“I’ll NEVER be thankful to some pompous spoiled rich kid who treats every living creature she knows like dirt!”

“What do you want from me, Vinyl?! I can’t give you your freedom! That’s all you seem to want; the one thing I won’t ever give you.”

“How about some consideration? How about you stop seeming like a terrifying, controlling, evil mastermind, and start SHOWING that you think I’m more than a slave? How about you don’t make me scrub a floor with bleach when I have cuts on my hooves? How about you show some appreciation for my blood? How about you give me a *break*?” I don’t know when I started crying, again. A few days ago, my emotions were buried, forgotten, like they had never existed. Now, less than a week later, I’m a blubbering, sobbing mess. “How about you try and show some emotion besides anger! How about you stop being so terrifying that I have dreams about being killed?”

She paused for a moment, as I turned away and tried, in vain, to contain my emotions. I felt her trot up behind me, her steps uneven. She seemed confused, and hesitant, as if what she was about to do didn’t come naturally.

She sat next to me and tried to gently rub my back. “I’m...sorry?”

She sounded terribly confused. “I didn’t… I mean I don’t want you to feel that way? Oh, we went through all this two days ago, didn’t we? I don’t want this… I mean, I do want to be your friend. I’m, I’m sorry about the bleach. I didn’t know it hurt- well, actually, I feel like I did know, but I forgot.”

My head was pounding, and her revelation wasn’t helping. I was so confused, and in a lot of pain.

“Vinyl… I’m willing to try and make this work if you are. Maybe, um, maybe next time there’s something you want, or don’t want, um, tell me, maybe? I, I think I… I need you to help me. I’m not sensitive, but maybe I can be. From now on, I’ll try and, um, consider your desires too?”

I looked up at her, and she looked down at me. I believed her, because I could see it in her eyes. She meant what she’d said this time. I’m not sure how I could tell, but I knew she’d try harder from now on. I felt as if we’d just crossed a bridge, one we needed to cross before anything could really develop between us.

“We just have to work at it.” She said. “And I’ll try and be more approachable, so you can feel comfortable talking to me.” I could feel her confidence growing, as if she knew she was saying the right things. “But come on, we’re not in the clear yet.”

I wiped my face and nodded, pushing myself to my hooves. I continued my agonisingly painful walk. My head was pounding from the anger-turned-sadness, my hooves burning. My throat was dry and my vision was starting to get blurry. By the time we reached my house, I was exhausted. My body agreed, and I fell to my side, panting. Octavia took the key from my bags; why they was in there was a mystery to me, and opened the door. That’s all I remember before the world went dark.

*****

My head hurt.

My hooves hurt.

Everything hurt…

Again.

My mind was swimming, but not as bad as last time. This was the second time in two days that I had blacked out, and let me tell you, I was not eager for another encore.

My eyes opened to darkness, which for once was a welcome relief. I groaned, hoping to attract Octavia’s attention, but nothing answered my call. ‘She must be off getting banged.’ Was my first thought, until I remembered where I was.

I turned my head to the side, but it was too dark and I was too tired to make anything out. I took deep breaths, trying to ease some of the pain. That seemed to be my whole world now a days. It was just pain: physical pain, mental pain, emotional pain.

After a few minutes, I tried to turn on my side. I managed, although it hurt like hell. My vision had cleared a little, and I could see that I was in my old room. An apple was sitting on the table next to me.

‘Hun’ I thought as I took it. ‘That was… considerate.’

I bit into the apple and smiled. It tasted good. I took another bite, but it slipped out of my grip. It fell to the floor with a soft *thump* and a cry of sadness. I reached down, but I couldn’t grab it, so I felt for it with my magic. There it was!

I picked it back up and brushed it off. Still good. I took another happy bite before it hit me.

Magic?

My hoof zoomed up to my forehead. No ring! ‘Okay, that’s… well, that’s a big jump.’

I was still hunched over the side of the bed, so I started to pull back. That is, until I saw the glass of water. Only at that moment did I realise how dry my throat was, and I chugged half of it, letting out a contented sigh. I finished my apple in a hurry and lay back down. I was still hurting, I felt weak, and now I was starting to have a stomach ache, almost like I needed to puke, but my mind was in a daze. I had my magic!

I started casting. My knowledge of medical magics was very limited, but I had managed over the seven years since the great turning to teach myself some decent painkiller spells. Since Vamponies are practically immune to all illnesses except their own, unique and rather short list, as well as most common aches and pains such as headaches, I knew dulling my pain receptors would be a vital tool for survival.

A minute later, I was back on my back, sighing in relief. I berated myself for a few minutes because I was too stupid to ask Octavia to let me cast my painkillers when she made me cut myself, but then I remembered how on edge she had been at those times. It was probably for the best.

The magic acted like a drug, and I was soon drifting in and out of consciousness. I knew this wasn’t going to help me get better, but it was felt good. The fact that I had over-doubled the dosage wasn’t the smartest move either.

I stayed like that until I heard the door open and shut. Octavia rushed into the room, staring me down. Her eyes were filled with the usual plethora of muted emotions: relief, annoyance, fear, and to my surprise, a nice dose of happiness.

“You’re up.” She stated simply, her voice even. “That’s good. I’ve been treating you since you fell unconscious.”

I blinked at her. “What?”

“Do not understand? I have been treating you. I have been reading these medical books you have.” She pointed at my shelf, which did indeed contain the pitiful collection of books I’d managed to salvage before they were repurposed by the Vampony population. “I managed to locate some rubbing alcohol; Vamponies use it upon occasion as a nettoyant for our fur. Apparently it is good to counteract the effect of an infection. I have also been creating a salve-like poultice with a combination of tea leaves and tree roots. I read of it in that tome.” She pointed at a book in particular. “However, I have not yet been able to locate any form of antibiotics. These are said to be the best form of medical assistance.”

She took a pause, and before she could keep speaking I cut her off.

“Okay.” My voice came out weak and flat, so I coughed a few times and tried again. “Okay, yeah, sure, that’s great. But before you say anything else, answer me this. What the hell is wrong with your voice?”

I’m not the only one who noticed it, right? She went from talking normally, like an average Vampony, to this super high class dribble. And she used to sound harsh when she spoke, but now she just sounds… empty. As if speaking with a royal vocabulary drowned out her emotions. It was really freaky to hear.

She grimaced. A pretty big grimace too, for a Vampony. “I was, er, informed by my servants that my mother would be dropping by within the next few nights, to pay me a friendly visit.”

“‘Informed by your servants’?” I asked. “What do you mean? You went all the way home? And you had time to treat me? How long h-”

“It is currently Saturday, one A.M.” She spoke in her monotonous voice.

“I’ve been out for… um… five days?!”

“Five days have effectively passed since you first fell unconscious.”

“Okay, stop with that creepy voice. It’s driving me crazy!”

“I know, I know. I hate it too, but my mother insists I speak ‘Like a proper lady.’ Alright, so your infection is… bad. You’ve had a fever since you fell unconscious the first time, or at least that’s what the book said. And you’ve had this strange amnesia.”

“Amnesia?”

“How many times do you remember waking up?” She asked eagerly.

“None. You just said I’ve been out for five days, so obviously this is the first time.” Even as I said it, I realised something was off with what she said. “Wait, since the ‘first time’?”

“It’s just like before!” She shouted angrily. “You’ve woken up at least twice a day, every day, for about half an hour. Every time you did, I’d ask you how many times you’ve woken up before, and every time you’ve said none. So I feed you, get you to use the washroom, and you fall back asleep!”

Now that she mentioned it, I did feel like I needed to pee.

“Vinyl, something is very wrong with you! I tried to put you in the shower one day and you fainted after two minutes. I heard you fall, and when I came in you were drowning! I’ve only been home twice, and Mark and Brandon are worried sick. It’s not helping that my mother will be here some time before next weekend, and you’re only getting worse! I mean, I put a diaper on you! You haven’t… used it yet, but still! What is wrong with you? What do I need to do?”

I just sat there as she turned and looked at me desperately. I could see it in her eyes; she was exhausted, upset, confused and in need of help. But in my mind, the only thing that was registering was how much effort she was putting into helping me get better…

“You said I fall back asleep after half an hour, right?” I asked. When she nodded, I carried on. “What advice have a given you in the past?”

“Not much. You’ve explained antibiotics and you pointed out your collection of books. Every time you wake up, you’ve told me the same advice. ‘Find a clinic or a drug store. They’ll have more information.’”

“Did you try to find more medical books?” I asked. Another nod. “No luck I’m guessing. What about the Canterlot hospital?”

She glared at me. “You know that’s off limits to Vamponies. The government is trying to research the medicine left behind by our predecessors to adapt it to our own illnesses. The only way I could get in there is if I were to sneak in… I don’t like that look on your face. It’s… rather cute.”

I was told, long ago, that I could do a very convincing puppy pout. I’d never tested it on Vamponies, because of the obvious lack of emotion and attention it would draw to me. Still…

“Stop that! Now I feel bad for not helping you.” She said, frowning at me. When I refused to stop, she bit her lip, and her eyes shown with uncertainty.

“Please?” I whined pathetically. I could almost hear whatever was left of her heart melt, and the sigh she left out confirmed it.

“I will TRY, and let it be known that if I succeed in saving your life, you’re going to owe me big time.” She snarled.

Hun. Who knew Vamponies caved to cute faces? Score one for Vinyl! Now I had a weapon to use against her royal pain in the butt Octavia in case she started tormenting me again. But, between her statement yes- well, a week ago, and the fact that she hadn’t killed me off yet despite my illness… Maybe she was becoming trustworthy?

“Now come on and get up. You need to use the bathroom before you fall asleep again, because I am NOT changing you like a foal!”