With a flicker of magic, the blinds were pulled open and the morning light drenched his study. Due to the dream, Scalpel had awoken early and already descended into delving into his work. The design given to him in the dream was exquisite, If he ever could find the materials he might be able to recreate it in full, until that point diagrams and information lists would have to do. Pulling on a silken robe and slippers he wandered down from the labs upper level through a dusty stone stairway, but stopped when he reached the bottom in surprise.
Grunge was currently standing inactive over the dead corpse of a unicorn.
“Well, that corpse wasn’t there before.”
Scalpel wandered across and Grunge jerked up from hibernation, letting out a low growl of approval as Scalpel scratched the back of his head, one of his front hooves twitching.
“I take it he picked the door?”
“Bad pony.”
“Quite Grunge”
Scalpel circumnavigated the large cyborg and pushed the open door closed and locked it again. Turning back to the corpse he sized it up, it was of a decent size, if a bit underweight, and its neck was bent at an odd angle from where Grunge had broken it. The coat and mane were blue and black, both quite tarnished and muddy from a life of shadows, sweat and travelling, flitting through his pockets he encountered various lockpicking devices and a small bag of crystals which could doubtless be used in his experiments.
Overall, a decent specimen.
Dragging the corpse across to a workbench, he threw it on top with a dull thud and eyed his other creation. It had been a Earth pony once, now it would serve as a shining example of ressurectionist theory. Sorting through his saddlebags he managed to scrap together at least half of the materials he needed to create another from spare parts, and laid it out before the dead corpse.
“I shall have to make some more” He grumbled, frowning somewhat.
Deciding on more immediate concerns however, he turned and went into the kitchen to whip up some cold breakfast of cheese and bread, once the others woke up he might send out Nocturne or Honey to pick up supplies.
Wandering upstairs he began to whistle a merry tune as he picked out his clothes for the evening, a red waistcoat with silver buttons and silk shirt, as well as his long black leather bloodstained apron. Grabbing a lantern from the laboratory, he lit it up and opened the houses basement with a silver key, making his way steadily down the ancient stairway into the darkness.
As he reached the bottom he raised the lamp above himself and lit up part of the room in a orange glow. Before him stood a series of furnaces, machinery, engines and vast piles of dusty coal and timber. Long cables webbed their way across the ceiling, wiring, power cables and steel lines with a series of oil lamps along the way. Huge tubes redirected the gasses and smoke from the furnaces upwards through a series of chimneys, and further tubes redirected steam to serve productive purposes, controlled by the intermediary valves which alternated the machineries purpose.
This was his industry, this was his means of production.
Striding forwards he began lighting the oil lamps along his way with a quick flicker of magic, further basking this underground world in a warm glow. Slowly he began to build up small fires in the furnaces and stoked it up further with coal.
With a blinking of lights, the rumble of moving gears and the growing whistling of steam, the great steel leviathan began to slowly come to life.
***
Honey awoke with a start, covered in sweat as breathed heavily and erratically amidst the silken blankets of her bed, the image once again coursing through her memories.
That Dream again…
She wiped her head with forehoof and reached for the glass of water which was standing on the small side table, taking a long draught before placing it back down and collapsing again into the pillows.
He would come frequently, the stallion in the memory, although not frequently enough to have her in a state constant tension when going to sleep. He would just emerge and make her dreams nightmares, a towering orange form coated in heavy plated steel, bringing a great saw down on her horn and grinding it back and forth in a sickeningly patient speed. Inch by inch it would dig deeper, cut further into her horn until she feared it would simply break off with the lightest touch. Blood would gush down her face as she struggled against it, screaming, kicking, begging, but nothing would stop it, nothing would make it end faster. At the very last second, just when her horn was about to break entirely away, she would wake up, sweat drenching her as she fought back the tears and the sorrow.
That Dream…
He couldn’t hurt her anymore… not after what had been done to him, Uncle had seen to that.
Slowly she shifted her weight, using her front hooves to push herself into a sitting position and steadying herself. She turned to look to her side and saw the wheels which now were her back legs after the other pony had gotten them… Uncle would deal with him soon too… as he had done with all the others.
She charged up her magic and it splutter into life, dragging the wheels forward and beginning the process of strapping themselves to the stumps which were her back legs. With that completed she grappled her way down the bed and onto the floor, shifting back and forth to feel the constraints, and once satisfied made her way to the door.
Travelling down the corridor she paused before her Uncle’s study, its door ajar and light on. She walked in and looked around, No uncle, but what was there was one of his open note books. Curious she climbed up onto the seat and sat ungainly upon it, peering at the sprawling manuscript.
Whatever uncle had thought of building, it most certainly was strange.
Even though she could barely grasp most of what was being said or portrayed, she managed to assern its unusual nature and definite complexity. What it might be, she couldn’t be sure, even with her Uncles training she was still years behind him and his immense studies. He said he was just a Doctor, but she knew his studies brought him an understanding of a vast variety of subjects, both modern and esoteric.
He was a very strange pony.
Jumping off, she continued her way down the hallway, but started surprised at an unusual sound coming from the guestroom.
It must be the Bat Pony.
Opening the door she peered into the bedroom and looked curiously at the strange entity.
For some reason she had decided to roost on the curtain pole, fanged mouth half ajar and making small squeaking sounds which must have been snores. She didn’t know what to make of this pony yet, although she appeared to be amiable enough and willing to support her Uncle in his research.
However, judging from the immense pile of bottles under the sleeping pony, she did have a drinking problem.
Honey raised an eyebrow.
I wonder how she managed to roost whilst intoxicated…
Suddenly with a thump the bat pony fell of its upside down perch and sprawled across the floor, She didn’t even wake up from her slumber, instead her snoring just grew louder.
Never mind then.
Bumping her way down the stairs she barely paused to acknowledge the corpse currently dangling halfway off her Uncles operation table. When it came to living with her Uncle, one grew accustomed to the presence of the dead. Below her the rumble and thunder of moving machinery became apparent, her Uncle must have restarted the engines which powered the house and the factory. Judging by the current hum of the floorboards, she believed they must have been at full capacity.
Searching around she couldn’t find anything to eat, Uncle must have munched on the last of the travel food. She could remember from her previous visit here there was a general goods store in town which would service their needs. Despite uncles sporadic and fleeting business, he always managed to collect a good measure of money wherever he went, the Cult deal had been especially commercially successful.
Rooting through the saddlebags, she managed to drag out a large bag of bits, searching through she siphoned off an ample portion. It seems she would go shopping for breakfast. Below her the muted sounds of harsh mechanisms started up as components of her Uncles research were being forged, and beneath it all she heard a happy sound of singing as her Uncle moved towards his goal.
She paused to look herself over, and frowned at the lair of dirt on her hooves, she needed a wash. With the engines on full output hot water would be freely available, and so she made her way up the stairs again and into the bathroom.
Getting herself in, she happily murmured in approval as the hot water began to wash the stress and the filth of the past few days away. It was the simple things in life, she thought, which were possibly the best. Levitating the soap she began to run it through her coat, working it in deep and seeing to her hair with some somewhat old shampoo. Once she was done she dried herself off with one of the thick fluffy towels in the bathroom and cast a simple drying spell.
Despite the damage done to her horn, Uncle said she was exceeding his expectations, and her magical ability was far above that of a normal unicorn. He had worked tirelessly to get her horn functioning again, endless series of tests and small magical spells further strengthening her hold over her natural power. Uncle said that despite the damage, it was perhaps a blessing, as the intensive work may have allowed her to tap into deep reserves of power which would have been unopened if the event of change had not occurred. She wasn’t so sure of that, but they were both jubilated when her horn had reconnected with her latent magic, they had celebrated with cake.
Passing along the corridor again she met the dark blurry eyed Bat Pony halfway and nodded to each other.
“Morning.”
“Mornink.”
The pony disappeared into the bathroom and she could hear the shower start up again as she returned from her room with her saddlebags. As she hopped down the stairs she paused before the inanimate form of Grunge beside the door, looking at him astutely. He started, and turned his head to look at her, recognition covering what remained of his features.
“Mz, Honey.”
“Grunge.”
She looked at him a few seconds more and the turned and opened the door with her magic, enjoying the rays of a fine morning sun as it topped the horizon, bathing her in warmth. Smiling, she stepped out, closing her Uncle and all his contraptions behind her, and began her way down the hill into the town, singing a merry song.
***
Nocturne made a cooing noise as the hot water rushed across her skin, she had missed hot running water, the Inn didn’t serve anything but cold for residents. This brought back memories of her father’s great Castle in the deep north of Equestria, with all its finery and luxuries. She missed him a lot, his smile, the booming laugh, and even his gothic stories, if not his scratchy beard.
Nocturne sighed, she missed The Old Country.
Perhaps through the doctor she might make her way back there, to a place between the Griffon mountains and untouched by the effects of war, famine and disease. She hoped it was still the same as it had been before the war, if not…
Best not to think about it.
Stepping out after a considerable period of time she shook herself off like a wolf, her fur going spiky and somewhat amusing. Wiping the rest off with a towel she skipped her way down the main laboratory and paused before the corpse.
It looked fresh.
Dr Scalpel emerged from a door leading to a cellar whistling whilst carting out several components consistent with their half machine pony they had created last night. He saw her and smiled, tipping more of the machinery on the table before the corpse.
“As you see, we had a midnight visitor, Grunge dealt with the intruder when he woke up from hibernation.”
“I see…”
“Anyway, I am beginning work on him too, a suitable match for the other, No? I have enough components to complete him too, we will open a small rift of magic to power them tonight.”
She nodded, somewhat concerned at his enthusiasm over this newly dead body, but shrugged it off, the doctor did seem to have an odd obsession over such things.
“I believe Honey has gone out to get us supplies” continued Scalpel as he began to wash and sterilize his equipment, “No doubt she will be back later, I sent Grunge to keep an eye on her from afar, but given the quiet nature of this town I doubt it will come too much.”
Nocturnes stomach rumbled and she gave him an embarrassed look “I hope she comes back soon, I could do with some breakfast.”
“Well, I hope that won’t inhibit your help with this one, with what you learned from last one we may well be able to complete this in a vastly reduced period of time.”
“Excellent Herr Doctor.”
