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Organised by
RogerDodger
Word limit
400–750
Stereopony
Twilight Sparkle tore the letter apart, until it was no more than a heap of tiny confetti that she let fall on to the ground like scattered flakes of snow. That was the last straw: all those years she had tried to make her point clear, again and again, obviously to no avail. And now she really had enough of that gushy patronising. I am a grown-up princess, she thought. I have saved Equestria several times. I am the leader of the bearers. So buzz off to Tartarus with your ‘my faithful student’.
She gnashed her teeth. She would put an end to this, once and for all.
“SPIKE!” she boomed, so loud that the wooden walls of the library trembled.
“Yes Twi… Twilight?” replied the voice of Spike, almost smashed by the might of Twilight’s call.
“I want the book in cell # 2-23-3-A-2. Right away!”
“2-23-3-A-2?!” Spike repeated in disbelief. “But –”
“I WANT IT NOW!” yelled Twilight.
Spike skittered up the stairs to the second floor, lugged a ladder around, leaned it against the wall and climbed up a few rungs. Stretching his right arm, he barely managed to pull out a big green book, whose spine was engraved with strange glyphs. He then hurried back down to the ground level and laid the tome on Twilight’s desk. He stood still, wondering what would come next.
“What are you waiting for?” Twilight grated. “Rarity has invited you to a snack, hasn’t she? Scoot off, she doesn’t like tardy guests.”
“What?” Spike replied. “Rarity? A snack? What –”
“SHOVE OFF AND LEAVE ME ALONE HALF AN HOUR, WOULD YOU?!” Twilight hollered. She grabbed the baby dragon in her magic and unceremoniously flew him off through the front door, that she slammed shut.
Good riddance! she thought. Now on to serious business. She contemplated a brief instant the cover of the book. It’s a chance I didn’t teach Spike Changeling. “The fifteen most effective ways to kill Celestia, by Queen Chrysalis” He would have been horrified.
She dismissed those parasitic thoughts and began to read.
“A present?” Celestia exclaimed. “For me? Oh, that’s so sweet, my precious pupil!”
Twilight flinched, ever-so-slightly. “Come on, open it!” she said.
Celestia shook the big pink box up and down, as if to probe its contents: it sounded hollow.
“It’s funny,” Celestia said, “it seems empty”. She moved the box on to the floor, untied the knot, removed the lid and stooped down. “But it’s really empty!” said her muffled voice from inside the box. She lifted her head back up and giggled. “I love when you pull my leg, my dearest student!”
“No, no,” protested Twilight earnestly. “It’s not empty. Look closer.”
“Eh?” Celestia ducked her head once more, this time deeper, into the box. “I still don’t see anything!” she said.
“Just a second!” Twilight answered. She muttered a grunt. A dazzling crescent of pure energy materialised right over Celestia. It swooshed through the air, sliced the neck of the white alicorn clean, then vanished. The head fell into the box. The rest of the body tottered for a second, then collapsed on to the floor with a thump. The iridescent tail slowly stopped waving.
Twilight watched that grisly spectacle, the torrents of blood spewing out from the severed neck, as in a trance, until, unexpectedly, one of the hind legs of the agonising body twitched – a reflex motion, probably. It was like a trigger: a sudden nausea washed over her, and she hardly had the time to turn her head away before throwing up.
When her sickness was over, she lumbered towards the door, her mind blank, carefully avoiding to look at the mess she had made.
She was about to grasp the handle when she heard – Dear C…! That can’t be! – a soft whinny behind her. She froze, dumbstruck.
“Shucks!” sniggered the… mellow voice of Celestia? “My dearest student…”
“…I’d say my precious pupil!” added the same voice but… coming from a different direction?! Twilight realised with horror. Incredulous, she whirled around. Her jaw dropped.
Standing in a large puddle of blood was Celestia, unscathed, beaming. And ten feet away, half inside the box, half outside, stood… another Celestia!
“If you had some problems with me…” the first Celestia began, “…then you should have told me!” the second finished. They both laughed.
Twilight facehoofed. Oh no! she thought. Now I will have to listen to her… in stereo!
She gnashed her teeth. She would put an end to this, once and for all.
“SPIKE!” she boomed, so loud that the wooden walls of the library trembled.
“Yes Twi… Twilight?” replied the voice of Spike, almost smashed by the might of Twilight’s call.
“I want the book in cell # 2-23-3-A-2. Right away!”
“2-23-3-A-2?!” Spike repeated in disbelief. “But –”
“I WANT IT NOW!” yelled Twilight.
Spike skittered up the stairs to the second floor, lugged a ladder around, leaned it against the wall and climbed up a few rungs. Stretching his right arm, he barely managed to pull out a big green book, whose spine was engraved with strange glyphs. He then hurried back down to the ground level and laid the tome on Twilight’s desk. He stood still, wondering what would come next.
“What are you waiting for?” Twilight grated. “Rarity has invited you to a snack, hasn’t she? Scoot off, she doesn’t like tardy guests.”
“What?” Spike replied. “Rarity? A snack? What –”
“SHOVE OFF AND LEAVE ME ALONE HALF AN HOUR, WOULD YOU?!” Twilight hollered. She grabbed the baby dragon in her magic and unceremoniously flew him off through the front door, that she slammed shut.
Good riddance! she thought. Now on to serious business. She contemplated a brief instant the cover of the book. It’s a chance I didn’t teach Spike Changeling. “The fifteen most effective ways to kill Celestia, by Queen Chrysalis” He would have been horrified.
She dismissed those parasitic thoughts and began to read.
“A present?” Celestia exclaimed. “For me? Oh, that’s so sweet, my precious pupil!”
Twilight flinched, ever-so-slightly. “Come on, open it!” she said.
Celestia shook the big pink box up and down, as if to probe its contents: it sounded hollow.
“It’s funny,” Celestia said, “it seems empty”. She moved the box on to the floor, untied the knot, removed the lid and stooped down. “But it’s really empty!” said her muffled voice from inside the box. She lifted her head back up and giggled. “I love when you pull my leg, my dearest student!”
“No, no,” protested Twilight earnestly. “It’s not empty. Look closer.”
“Eh?” Celestia ducked her head once more, this time deeper, into the box. “I still don’t see anything!” she said.
“Just a second!” Twilight answered. She muttered a grunt. A dazzling crescent of pure energy materialised right over Celestia. It swooshed through the air, sliced the neck of the white alicorn clean, then vanished. The head fell into the box. The rest of the body tottered for a second, then collapsed on to the floor with a thump. The iridescent tail slowly stopped waving.
Twilight watched that grisly spectacle, the torrents of blood spewing out from the severed neck, as in a trance, until, unexpectedly, one of the hind legs of the agonising body twitched – a reflex motion, probably. It was like a trigger: a sudden nausea washed over her, and she hardly had the time to turn her head away before throwing up.
When her sickness was over, she lumbered towards the door, her mind blank, carefully avoiding to look at the mess she had made.
She was about to grasp the handle when she heard – Dear C…! That can’t be! – a soft whinny behind her. She froze, dumbstruck.
“Shucks!” sniggered the… mellow voice of Celestia? “My dearest student…”
“…I’d say my precious pupil!” added the same voice but… coming from a different direction?! Twilight realised with horror. Incredulous, she whirled around. Her jaw dropped.
Standing in a large puddle of blood was Celestia, unscathed, beaming. And ten feet away, half inside the box, half outside, stood… another Celestia!
“If you had some problems with me…” the first Celestia began, “…then you should have told me!” the second finished. They both laughed.
Twilight facehoofed. Oh no! she thought. Now I will have to listen to her… in stereo!