I approached the door ahead, the last barrier between the only Vampony in the world who knew my secret and myself. In that enclosed space, a monster who fed on flesh, fear, hatred and misery paced the halls, eagerly awaiting the next foolish soul to enter her domain. But I would be strong, for also trapped was a damsel in distress, one who was far more versed in handling anything the monster could throw at her. She also had two knights, long ago armoured against the monster’s barbed tongue and evil words. Together, they were the sole force that could end this era of horror and abomination. And here stood the idiot who fully intended to get involved, despite having no information, no plan, and no reason to enter that house.

Wait, who was saving who again?

Now that I thought back, I had no memory of Octavia ever explicitly asking me to intervene, or quite frankly, to show my face around her mother at all. Of course, that could be the memory loss. Hun, would you look at that? An excuse. Time to book it!

I was halfway out of the front yard when I remembered that, despite not needing to get tangled up in Octavia’s family life, I felt a certain desire to see her again. Curse ponies and their natural desire to make and keep friends! With heavy hooves, I turned myself back around.

But wait! If I acknowledged her existence as a friend, what if I became dependent? Ponies needed social interaction! It’s why so many of us died. I had managed to get by so far, but what if after making a friend, I’d want more of them? Oh no! My own biology was working to kill me.

Well, I certainly couldn’t have that, now could I? I’d have to sever this budding relationship before it grew into the deadly flower of happiness, joy and worst of all, friendship! I could wait no longer, lest I be entrapped by her mystical sociable ways!

But no, I felt my soul tear from my flesh at the thought of such a horrible end to my time with her. She was already in too deep. Her seeds were rooted in my brain, and her seduction was complete. She was my friend, for better or for worse.

“What.” I heard a musical, evil, pleasant, maniacal, other synonyms for good and bad, voice say. “Are you doing?”

I had, of course, been so enraptured in my thoughts, which alternated between wanting to stay and leave, that I had done a very poor impersonation of a ballerina’s pirouette. When Octavia spoke, I snapped back to my senses and tried to face her. Unfortunately, at some point between the start and end of impromptu dance routine, I’d staggered onto two legs, and thus fell flat on my face.

At this point, a very familiar sound grazed my ears. That of a Vampony murmuring in exasperation. It was followed by a hissing whisper from the same source. “Get up! My mother is here and she will be looking for any reason to have you thrown behind bars! I am certain that in some backwash district of a far away royal duchy it is an insult to fall on one’s face while addressing the daughter of the duchess.”

I was on my hooves in a flash, face blank and impassive, “How are you, Miss Octavia?” I asked politely. The feigned regality in my voice sounded so fake to my ears that I almost slapped myself across the face. She gave a very brief, very small chuckle.

But Octavia had more pressing matters on her mind, and thus she steered me inside. “You do not smell, good. Wounds are hidden, face impassive, well rested and presentable.” She seemed to be prepping me to meet Luna herself. “You even tamed your hair, somewhat. That was… nice? Here is the story. You are my science partner Vinyl, you were orphaned during the turning, you have lived with several different boyfriends but are currently single, childless, and somewhat looking, but also working diligently and partying on weekends. You do not do drugs, you do not remember your parents, and you think I am a decent partner, able to pull my own weight but not knowledgeable enough in science to excel on my own. And we are testing fruits to see if they offer any advantages to Vampony consumers, be it medicinal, nutritional, or otherwise.”

She spoke quickly and quietly. I tried to memorise all the key details, as I’m sure those are the things her mother would be asking me later, to see if our storied matched up. We were going so fast, I hadn’t even seen her face yet. Not that I wanted to; her voice was more than enough to calm my nerves.

“Oh, and under no circumstance should you voice an opinion on politics in any manner. If she brings it up, play safe, aloof, and do not commit to anything either of you say, or me.” She finished quickly. “If there are no other options, pretend you are uneducated in such matters.”

I just nodded. She was clearly quite worked up, and I couldn’t help but feel that any comments I might make would gain us nothing.

“Who was at the door, Octavia?” I heard. The voice clearly belonged to a female, and one who was used to having her questions answered quickly. “Why did you not tell one of the servants to attend to the matter?”

“Mother.” She replied as we stepped into her living room. “This is Vinyl. Vinyl, my mother.”

I turned the corner, unsure what to expect. Beyond it, I found myself facing a rather pretty Unicorn, although she had nothing on Octavia. She was pale blue, with hints of more vibrant fur deeper in. Clearly she dyed her coat to match the dark, gloomy theme of this world, although her colour choice left me confused. Most ponies tended towards a darker, mat palet. Octavia’s mom, although clearly trying to rid herself of any vibrant blues, was still a rather light shade, not unlike what I assumed my mane would look like if I mixed it with my coat, then sucked the life out of it.

This is saying a lot, as bright, vibrant colours are occasionally a turn off, both sexually and just in general social interaction. It reminds the Vamponies of the sun. Many coats had dulled and darkened with a lack of exposition to the light. It was part of the reason I kept myself so clean and white; to help deter all the sluts who want to sleep with me. Of course, being virgin, it did almost nothing, but whatever.

Maybe that was her exact reason though? To remain intimidating in the board room, she might try and use lighter colours to hold attention, or display dominance, or something else. Politics stuff.

Her mane reinforced the point; it was an even lighter blue than her coat, and seemed to drag my gaze upwards. Contrarily, her tail was dark, as if to say she wanted your attention on her face, not her ass.

But then I happened across her eyes. In them, I saw everything. They held a cold, calculating, disdainful look, which was replaced by a tempered curiosity, then immediately by a blank slate and feigned innocence. I had the funny feeling she wanted me to understand exactly what she was capable of. She wanted me to see behind her poker face, to scare me away from her daughter, like I was the homeless wretch of society and they, unattainable royalty. It made me weak in the knees. This was a Vampony I did not want to cross. If she found out my secret, she wouldn't eat me. She'd use me to bargain for a position of power.

“Vinyl, how nice to meet you. My lovely daughter has been telling me about this school work the pair of you are doing.” She said airily. Octavia walked around the room to stand behind her mother, who made no comment. The moment she was out of view, Octavia nodded. My eyes barely registered the movement, so focused were they on her mother.

“Yes, it’s, um, not been easy, but I think the grade will reflect the effort we put into it.” Octavia winced, and I immediately assumed I made a mistake. What did I say?

“So, you two have been spending a lot of time working together, have you?” She asked, turning to look at her daughter.

“Well, I mean, not a huge amount or anything, but we’ve worked together at school a lot.” I said, trying to be assertive. I didn’t want it to sound like I was asking a question. “Maybe once or twice at home.”

She turned back to me, and Octavia nodded quickly. “Good, good. And it is coming along well? My little girl is not exactly a prodigy, is she? I do assume you have had to help her along. Do not feel the need to hold back dear, I am certain she would love some criticism.” The unicorn’s eyes glinted, and told me what I needed to say.

“She’s done her half of the project, and I’ve done mine. She likes to divvy up the work so we can each work alone, and not waste any time. When we’re at school, we bring each other up to speed and help with any snags, but a lot of it is done apart.” Octavia smiled so wide I actually caught a glint of fangs. It was rather off putting.

Her mother, on the other hoof, looked off put. “Well, I’m glad to hear that.”

Before she could lead the conversation on, I decided to try and throw her off the scent. “Octavia hasn’t told me much about her family. We’ve been so busy with school work, we’ve hardly had time to get to know each other. What do you do, Mrs. Philaharmonica?”

“Just Mrs Harmonica, dear. I do so despise my husband’s full last name. Such a mouthful.” She turned to her daughter. “Octavia, dear, would go tell the servants to bring some Hors D'oeuvres? I am sorry Vinyl, I was not aware Octavia was expecting company. How rude of me not to offer refreshments.”

As Octavia moved to leave the room, giving me a nervous, shifty look, I smiled slightly and said. “I brought the banana; I’ve had some trouble with the smell, and wanted to know your opinion.”

And, ignoring the look of horror that flashed across her face, I pulled out the slightly overripe fruit from my bag. The effect was immediate.

Both Vamponies in the room covered their noses. Octavia backed out of the room quick as she could, but her mother, having to go around me to get to the only exit, seemed momentarily as though she planned to strangle me on the spot.

“Oh, so it’s not just me.” I comment aloud, also holding my snout. I quickly closed the fruit back in the bag and moved to the window. “I’ve gotten kinda used to it, but it still burns my nose a little.” I said as I tossed it open to air out the room.

Behind me, I heard the sole undead occupant of the room flee, and couldn’t help the mischievous smile that split my lips. Now she had to believe us.

I took my time making my way out of the living room, noticing idly that a certain unicorn had, in passing, chucked my backpack into the far corner of the room, which was about as far from the door as it could get.

The moment I stepped into the hall, I knew I had made a mistake.

I saw the edge of mommy’s tail vanishing around the corner and the sound of hooves stomping away. I knew Vamponies didn’t like the scent of fruit, but isn’t that a bit excessive for a simple banana?

I heard a whimper next to me and turned, having half a mind to ask Octavia what was wrong with that mare, only to find her flat on the floor. Her head was bowed low, and I saw several patches of raw skin, as if the fur had been scorched away. My eyes widened as they trailed further down her body, finding several more patches of flesh and partially re-grown fur. How had I not noticed those earlier?

“Octavia, what?” I began, but stopped almost immediately. Bruises looked a little different on Vamponies. Having no blood in their veins, Vamponies couldn’t truly bruise. However, I’d gathered, from snippets of teachers’ side notes and anecdotes, that Vamponies did have a liquid running through their body that took the place of blood. I could only assume the patches of dark black skin, visible through matted fur and even in places where it was missing altogether, that this was the Vampony’s way of bruising. I gently brushed my hoof along Octavia’s coat, and she recoiled with a slight cry of pain.

“What has she done to you?”

There were bruises all along Octavia’s back and right side. Some chained together, particularly down her flank and the upper region of her right hind leg. Others, like the ones on the back of her neck, were huge, as if she’s been struck more than once. The ones on her neck were also darker. She’d been beaten, repeatedly, and although that made me furious, it was nothing compared to the pang of worry I felt.

Why wasn’t she healing?

Unless her mother had mutilated her this very evening, there was no way all these bruises could be mere hours old. That could only mean she’s suffered them during the previous two nights; Friday and Saturday. But if that was the case, they should have healed hours after they’d been made due to the special nature of Vampony regeneration. That’s why they’re such adept hunters; they have the ability to heal physical wounds quickly, and they recover very rapidly from intense bursts of exercise.

I was getting sick of my lack of knowledge. It wasn’t even my fault! I would learn everything I could about Vampony anatomy in an instant, but there are no published sources, considering the race just came out of hiding a few years ago. They’re still doing studies. Instead, all the knowledge is being taught in the second most popular class; anatomy. It’s almost as popular as gym class because it’s a class that is about 90% practical. And of course, with a name like anatomy, one can easily guess what they do for the practical portion of class. Still, that 10% of learning actual important information is vital to my survival, but if I set foot in such a class, I’d be found out within minutes.

I was snapped out of my reverie by a quiet moan of pain. Octavia needed my help now. Hopefully she’d be able to tell me what was going on, but all things considered, I think her mother might have been against her taking that class too. I also think she wouldn’t have paid any attention to the 10% anyway.

“Octavia, what can I do? Is there some sort of medicine to help?” I asked.

“Go get one of the boys.” She said as she flopped onto her mostly unhurt side. “And then go back home. I don’t want you here right now. You’ll only make her worse.”

I felt my heart skip a beat. This was my fault? I was about to take off in search of her servants when the pair of them materialised next to us, as if they’d heard her themselves.

In seconds, Octavia had been carted out of my sight, obviously off to some sort of sick room. I stood rooted to the spot, deliberating if I should go after her or just leave. When Brandon reappeared, I tried to ask him what was wrong with her, but he kept silent as he led me out of the house. At the front door he stopped and stared me dead in the eye.

“Do not come back here.” He said. “If you know what’s good for you, and for my mistress.”

He shoved me out on my ass, tossing my bag along with me and slamming the door behind himself with a resounding crack.

*****

‘It’s not fair.’ I thought for the thousandth time.

One of my biggest fears was that I would, one day, accidentally mutter under my breath. Vamponies do not mutter to no one; they avoid speaking uselessly, although it’s not unheard of, but they certainly do not speak aloud to themselves. It was one of my most difficult habits to break, but I’m glad I did.

I was at my favourite music store. Favorited only because it was unpopular, which mean less booty calls. I rarely ever went out, instead spending as much time as a recluse as possible, bar work, but tonight I wasn’t at all in the mood to go back home. I instead decided to see if the manager, Red Record, had managed to scrounge up any other artifacts of pony society. He was considered an eccentric; one of the few Vamponies who could still enjoy pony music, and he had a large collection of vinyls from eight plus years ago. I’d come here often in the past, when I needed company. Red was a perv, always after my love tunnel, but he took defeat more gracefully than the rest of his species; might have something to do with the music he listened to.

I was sitting on a stool near the counter, watching a record spin on a gramophone without making any sound and considering my purpose in life. Behind me, I heard the door chime as another customer walked in. I stole a glance in his direction, and saw a large black cloak, obviously intended to keep the Vampony beneath covered. He sidled up to Red, spoke a few words in his ear, then crossed the store and disappeared behind a bookcase filled with vinyls.

“Why so glum, chum?” Red asked. His back was turned to me, and he was pulling down a record for polishing. Too late, I realised I’d forgotten my ritualistic greeting.

“Nothing” I answered too quickly. I was already off my game after Octavia’s house, and now I was making elementary level mistakes. Might as well sign my death wish if I’m not more careful.

But Red just nodded. “I know what you mean. Having love troubles again? Some desperate filly after that babymaker of yours? You know what I say to that.”

“Yeah, it has something to do with finding a nice music store owner and letting him pop my cherry, doesn’t it? How can you even tell if I haven’t had it popped already?” I asked, half sarcastic, half curious.

“Oh, you can’t tell?” He asked, a slightly curiosity in his tone. “Must be because you’re still a tight cunt. Every Vampony can smell virginity on females. Some, like me, can even tell if a male is virgin. Interesting though, that you can’t smell the difference.”

I felt my ears prick. This sort of information is what they would tell us in anatomy. “Oh, yeah, I guess so. What do I smell like compared to the sluts?”

He turned to me and took a deep breath. It was a little off putting, but I tried not to show it. “You smell like a horny bitch. So does every Vampony. But virgin bitches smell stronger, you know? Stronger, and pure. Like, your scent isn’t mixed with the smell of cock and other cunts. It’s strong, and it’s pure. But then, on top of that, it has this undertow of something. A promise to the smeller. A promise of first-time use, of course. And that promise smells good. Almost as good as ponies smelled when they were alive.”

I felt my breath catch as he carried on. “I remember them. I was converted before the real conversion began; I spent a few months as a Vampony, surrounded by the flesh bags but unable to touch um. The smell coming off of the mares was a drug; meat and blood and flesh, but then also pussy and virgins. And the fillies, oh god did they ever smell like heaven. Ain’t much better than young, soft meat, lemme tell ya. They were the most delicious. I remember, once, I got my hooves of a family of four. I tossed the parents out to the horde, but kept the fillies for myself. Them’s were good eating.” He sighed happily. “Those were the good days.”

I sat in my chair, revolted but oddly calm. I’d always known that the Vamponies had feasted on my kind, so it didn’t surprise me, and I tried not to let it bother me. I couldn’t let it colour my opinion of Red; there were probably thousands of Vamponies who’d done the same thing, and Red was knowledgeable about pony artifacts. I’d have to just forget about the things he just told me and try to move on. Maybe I could get some more information out of him another day, but for now I didn’t want to attract any more suspicion.

“Wish I was changed for those days.” I said, getting up. “I’ll see you next time, Red.”

He waved a hoof once and went back to his records.

I scampered off. Now not only was I banished from Octavia’s house, I was gonna have to avoid my favourite haunt for a spell. This was not turning out to be a good day.

Dejected, I started making my way to a local low-quality butcher. I turned up every so often at one of them, to reinforce the fact that I ate meat. The butchers I went to were paid by the crown to provide free food for their clients, since there was such a large surplus of meat. All the tough, boring or gross cuts were given away, and since I didn’t even eat the stuff I always jumped on the opportunity to take the worst ones.

I walked in and nodded at the butcher Vampony, Sloppy Joe. He nodded back and started bagging a few small chunks of what looked like slightly overdue cow meat. I took it in my magic and made my way out of the store as the door opened and another customer came in.

As I made my way home, however, something interesting happened.

I was walking down the main road through Canterlot’s poor district. My turn was only two blocks away, and I was in no rush. I didn’t feel any need to hurry when daybreak was still a few hours away. I still had not recovered from my bad mood, and wasn’t interested in doing much of anything. Maybe a warm bath before bed, so I could get up early tomorrow and laze in the sun for an hour or two before school.

School… it felt so odd, returning after the week I’d just had. My life had been flipped upside down over the course of the past seven days. I’d made a new friend, revealed my biggest secret, almost got killed twice, bled half to death, became infected by bleach and sat bed-ridden for a few days. And now I got to return to school, as if last week hadn’t happened at all. What was my life?

As I turned off the main road to the side street my house was on, I felt somepony bump my bag of meat. I glanced over in time to see the same Vampony from the shop, covered in the same cloak, slip a piece of paper into my bag. He proceeded to trot off, as if nothing happened, and I was left with a burning desire to stop him and ask what that was about.

Instead, I shrugged and continued along the way to my house. I made it inside without issue, and carefully tossed the meat in the trash after retrieving the note. Not like I wanted the stuff anyway.

The paper was crisp, and I unfolded it quickly.

Lady Octavia begged me to deliver this to you. She is being pressured by her mother to change schools again, for the sole reason that is you. She wants you to go to school as if nothing is amiss, but you cannot speak to her or give any acknowledgement that you know her at all. She is being watched, and so are you.

This is from Mark and myself; keep your distance from Octavia, keep away from this house, and most importantly, keep your nose clean, if you know what’s good for you. We know you are hiding a secret, and we suspect Mrs Harmonica knows too. Whatever it is, you have clearly worked hard at maintaining it. Know that she will rest at nothing to find out why “some scamp on the streets has stolen Octavia’s attention”.

Brandon

‘Damn it!’ I screeched in my head, and I balled up the paper and chucked it, hard as I could, at the fire pit that had never been used. I knew this friendship shit would lead to problems. Now not only had I lost my friend, but if I wasn’t careful, I would lose my secret too, and if that happened, it was only a matter of time before I lost my life.

“Can my life get any worse?”

Author's Notes:

Well, we all know what happens when you say that.

It feels good to shake up the original plan; this story is about to get hella more exiting than it was supposed to be. At least, personal opinion.

Hope y'all aren't too off put by the year long break. On a positive note, 2-3 weeks is like, pretty good eh?

Tell me what yall think of the new turn to this story.