Post by pononimous on Dec 19, 2015 12:32:27 GMT -8
This is my first story posted here. Since there doesn't seem to be an author comments box I'll just put my comments in quotes. Also, I'll do my best to confine story vignettes on this thread so as not to create spam. Story: Marta is a Changeling Queenlet who abandons her hive and, finding herself a hunted outlaw, quits Equestria, making her way to the baffling and often terrifying planet Earth. What she finds there seems not to be a whole lot better than what she left behind.
I’ve been reading a lot in the papers about changelings; those creatures of legend and myth. Like the Sasquatch and the Chupa Cabra, they are things borne of the wild imaginations of lunatics and the certifiably insane. That is the comfortably accepted view of such things of the people Boston and elsewhere.
But stories persist and reports of sightings continue to appear on a regular basis on blogs and Internet web pages around the world, reports which insist that Changelings are real and that the land from which they come, Equestria, is equally and concretely as real. Even as I read the papers from day to day it seems those stories are on the rise as are reports of so-called sightings.
Still, no matter how much effort is put into the exploding and debunking of these nonsensical tales, the stories persist...
– An excerpt from a letter submitted by Beacon Hill resident Ananais Hammond to the Editorial Department of the Boston Globe, November 2nd, 2022.
It was a sunny, cold and breezy late autumn day as a young woman sat on the grass beneath a now sparsely leaved willow tree. Hugging herself, she morosely eyed the Swan Boats in the Boston Public Garden gliding out from their green, wooden dock at pond side. The driver pedaled casually as he steered, taking tourists on a slow ride around the small, man-made pond in the center of the park before returning some ten minutes later.
With long, raven black hair, large, pale aqua eyes and olive skin she was a stunningly beautiful girl, albeit a dirty one as her unwashed hair hung in oily, limp strands from her head.
Dressed only in a dirty and stained light summer dress and tan flats, her attire was completely unsuited to the sharp chill that afternoon and she wished she’d thought to bring a coat with her and she would have if she’d had one.
Feeling the cold bite of the breeze, she hugged herself more tightly wishing that the weak, late afternoon autumn sun would warm her. Above and beyond that she felt a rumbling of hunger in her stomach. Opening her small, worn handbag she rummaged through its contents hoping to find, perhaps, a dollar or some small bit of change with which she could buy something to eat. Sighing in frustration, she dropped the bag. She’d found nothing but a few dull copper pennies, hardly enough to buy food.
“Are you alright?” came a strong, soft but gentle voice from her left.
Snapping her eyes toward the sound she stared, glaring, wondering why a stranger would bother to know, even dare to disturb her solitude.
“What do you care?” she snapped, eyeing him suspiciously for a moment before returning her eyes to the drifting Swan Boats, her face darkened by a scowl.
“I’m Tom,” said the stranger pleasantly, his voice reassuring, “I see you here every day on my way to work. What’s your name?”
Although depressed by her present circumstances, the young woman instantly latched on to this opportunity that had virtually dropped into her lap.
“I’m Marta,” she grunted, working hard to bury her sudden feeling of excitement at this chance to take advantage of some sucker.
“Well, Marta, are you from around here?” Tom asked, casually squatting down next to her, now.
“No,” she grunted flatly, still refusing to look at him as she hugged herself even more tightly, tucking her legs under herself in the hope that compressing her form might help to warm her a little.
Just then she jumped with a little start when she felt the heavy, plush fabric of a coat laid upon her shoulders.
She turned and stared down at her now covered shoulders then to Tom, now coatless. Having seen her shivering in the chill air, he had draped his own garment upon her shoulders. Instinctively she wrapped it tightly around herself.
“You didn’t have to do that, I was fine,” she groused before looking away again.
“No you arn't!” chuckled Tom, “You're freezing you're butt off!”
Marta sighed, relishing the warmth of the garment now wrapped about her.
“Thanks,” she muttered so quietly that Tom almost didn’t hear her.
Yeah, this was a definite sucker, someone she knew she could play for what she needed. Perhaps she could play him for quite a lot providing she started acting in a way that didn’t make her seem like a total puppy to the guy.
Still, there was something about this guy, some sense of something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. No matter. She’d make her play.
“Hey, will you buy me something to eat?” she suddenly blurted out, looking at Tom, now.
“Yeah, I can do that,” he nodded, smiling as he rose to his feet, anticipating that Marta would follow him, then, “if you don’t mind we can go to my house and I can fix us something there.”
Suddenly tensing, Marta thought to simply tell this guy no, give him back his coat and walk away. Even in the short time she’d been stranded, penniless, in Boston she’d heard the horror stories from others, stories of girls who, being desperate, had trustingly accepted invitations to go to the homes of men only to be brutalized, raped, beaten and even murdered.
“I don’t know you so can we go to a restaurant, instead?” she said, eyeing Tom suspiciously.
Tom’s eyebrows shot up as he stared at Marta for a moment, sizing her up. Feeling compassion for this young woman he hadn’t considered that she might be a hustler, might have planted herself in the park in the hope of luring some unsuspecting man or woman and, with the right sob story rightly told, conning them into doing her bidding, possibly hustling them out of some money. Could she be a prostitute? In a city as large as Boston and being so filled with desperately impoverished people, that was a distinct possibility.
“Look, I see you here every day and you’re obviously homeless. I felt bad for you and wanted to do something nice but don’t try to hustle me,” Tom said quite bluntly, his brows knitting together.
Marta snapped her eyes back to Tom, glared at him for a moment before looking away, again.
“Who says I’m a hustler? Can’t’ a girl just sit in the park and enjoy the Swan Boats?” she said curtly, doing her best to sound convincing. Still, the nervous tremor in her voice was too obvious and she was sure it had given her away.
“Well, I could just run you in for vagrancy but I’d rather not do that if we can avoid it,” Tom grinned, pulling a badge from his back pocket and showing it to her.
Aw nuts! This guy was a cop? As if things weren’t bad enough, now she stood the very real possibility of going to jail, too?
“Fine! I’ll just go!” she sighed, defeated, as she rose, removed the coat from her shoulders and started to hand it back to Tom. The sun hanging low in the sky now, the air had grown colder and she shivered visibly as the sharp sting of that crisp breeze hit her. She scowled, hugged herself again and began to walk way.
“I’m sorry if I scared you,” said Tom, keeping up with her as she trod quickly across the grass. She stopped, turned and looked at him, standing there with that stupid smile on his face holding his coat out to her. That coat. That nice, warm, comfortable coat. Unable to resist Marta quicky reached out and snatched it from Tom’s hand, put it back over her shoulders.
“So, what’re you in the mood for?” Tom asked.
“What?” Marta asked, wondering why he’d asked that, then remembered that she’d said she wanted to go to a restaurant, “Oh! Um, I don’t care. Anything’s fine,” she said flatly.
“There’s a pretty good chicken place on Charles Street if that’s okay with you?” Tom asked.
“Fine! Let’s go!” Marta said tersely as she began walking quickly toward the edge of the Public Garden toward Charles Street, not even bothering to see if Tom was following.
It was while he was catching up to her that Tom noticed something so odd that it instantly caught his attention yet, so subtle that he questioned whether he’d actually seen it or not.
As he was catching up with her it seemed that to him some kind of ripple had appeared around Marta for a moment, like a heat shimmer radiating off an object on a hot summer day and, within that shimmer the briefest hint, as if something were being revealed or momentarily uncovered.
What he’d seen was nothing but the merest peek; a spot on her olive skinned arm suddenly turning to a deep, charcoal gray and her lower legs assuming the shape of those of a horse but only for the briefest of instants. He paused, blinked at the odd sight then, shaking his head, quickly caught up with her. It was then that he remembered something he’d read in one or two police reports he’d seen over the last year. Still, seeing this, his suspicions were confirmed.
“You’re a changeling,” he said, walking beside her, now.
Marta froze in her tracks, turned to stare directly at Tom, surprise and shock flashing across her face for the briefest of instants before she buried and locked it behind a blank expression.
“What, are you crazy? There’s no such thing! Great! Just what I need! A nut!” she growled as she continued walking on.
“I could arrest you, take you to a hospital where you’d be scanned and examined. That would tell me the truth even you won’t.” he said flatly and in a voice which told Marta he’d do it without hesitation.
Spinning on her heel, her hands balled into fists. In a sudden burst of fury she leaned toward him. Although outwardly angry, inside she felt the sudden rush of sharp panic quickly rise in her. Even so, knowing she was unavoidably trapped she would confess it. There was no other choice.
“Yeah! I’m a fucking changeling, so what? What’s it to you, anyway?” she barked, growing enraged that this seemingly stupid stranger had somehow discovered her most tightly guarded secret.
Tom lowered his eyes and peered at the ground thoughtfully for a moment. Then, smiling again, he looked up at her.
“So, what do you like best? Regular or extra crispy?” he asked, stepping toward her again.
Blinking, Marta now stared blankly at Tom in abject shock that he’d not so much as batted an eye at her astonishing revelation, a revelation which should have caused him to be wary at the very least. Why wasn't he terrified? It was just then that a realization hit her like a bright light suddenly switching on in the darkness of her mind. Startled beyond reason by his reaction, Marta stormed up to him and grabbing him by the shoulders, drew her face close to his.
“What the fuck is wrong with you? I just confessed the truth about the biggest mystery of the twenty first century to you and all you can ask is if I want regular or extra crispy? The fuck, man!”
Still smiling, Tom reached up and gently removed Marta’s hands from his shoulders and let them go.
Then, for just the briefest of instants, Marta saw something that caused her to feel faint and her head to spin in shock. Right before her eyes, the air around Tom's face rippled and the color of his eyes changed to a bright, glowing green as his skin showed a familiar dark charcoal, a cragged horn on his forehead flashing into sight for but a split second before vanishing again.
Her mouth falling agape, Marta stared, her shock overwhelming and complete.
“You’re... One of us?” she gasped.
“You’re sloppy,” Tom frowned, “you leave yourself too open, too vulnerable. You should know better,” he said as he stepped back. With that he resumed walking toward Charles Street, paused when Marta simply stood there staring at him.
"How did you know?" Marta asked, baffled.
"We... Know," Tom said, giving her an indecipherable look. Marta stood there staring at him for a moment more.
“What’re you waiting for? Let’s go!”s he said.
With a shake of her head Marta snapped herself back to her senses and ran after Tom. Catching up to him she continued to stare, her expression blank.
“Stop staring, you’ll draw attention,” he said quietly, giving her a nod.
“So, why are we going to this chicken place?” Marta asked as they crossed Beacon Street, entered Charles Street, moving toward the Longfellow Bridge.
“For whatever reason the place tends to attract a rather large number of couples each day. If we’re lucky there may be a few there. If you’re sufficiently skilled you may be able to covertly feed off of them, gain a little strength,” Tom said.
“Wait, what?” asked Marta, confused, “feed from a distance? I’ve never heard such a thing!”
“Didn’t your Hive Queen teach you anything?” Tom asked, frowning with disgust.
“I wasn’t a common hoardling, I was a Queenlette! Either me or my twin sister were destined to rule our hive, depending on which one of us won a battle to the death.” she grunted sounding offended.
“Even so, your Queen Mother should have taught you that much, at least!” he grunted, throwing her a hard look at they walked on. Slowing, Tom paused to look at Marta.
“Apparently there was no battle between you and your sister. You’re here. What happened?”
“I ran rather than fight my sister. I abandoned my hive. Rather than stay in Equestria I came to this world,” Marta said, lowering her head and feeling the hot sting of shame for her seeming cowardice. Tom, seeing the wisdom of not persuing the subject, moved on.
“And how long have you been here?” Tom asked.
“About month, maybe five weeks. Not very long,” Marta said.
A moment later they reached their destination. Stepping through the door Tom quickly surveyed the interior, noted that there were couples sitting at various tables. One couple sat sufficiently close to an empty table that it shouldn’t be too difficult for even a rank amateur to feed from them over that short distance.
Stepping up to the counter, Tom ordered the six piece chicken box, paid for the order. He and Marta waited until the server returned a moment later with his order. Tom picked up the box and the two took a seat at the table nearest one of the couples, setting the box down on the table between them.
“Do you feel strong enough to make an effort to feed?” Tom asked Marta.
“I think so but, then, what choice do I have? If I go on much longer I think I might pass out,” Marta said.
“Close your eyes and concentrate on the nearest couple. Focus your will on the one you feel has the strongest love. Reach out and touch that one with your will,” Tom said.
Closing her eyes Marta concentrated, putting all of herself into the effort. After several minutes she snapped her eyes open and grunted in frustrated exasperation.
“Nothing’s happening! I can’t do it!” she growled, frowning.
“Close your eyes and try again,” Tom said as he reached across the table and laid his hand over hers. Instructing Marta to close her eyes again he did the same and Marta renewed her efforts but, this time, she felt something join her, strengthen her, guide her. It was Tom or, rather, what seemed to be his essence drawing her mind out, leading her until she could feel herself drawing nearer to the unwitting couple at the nearby table.
As she felt her mind draw nearer to the humans a mental tentacle seemed to shoot out of her, latch onto the essence of the nearest human, sink into the very heart of it. A moment later she began greedily sucking up and taking into herself the nourishing emotions.
“Easy! Not so fast! You don’t want to make them aware of you or of what you’re doing,” came Tom’s thoughts into hers.
It took some effort on Marta’s part to pull back, slow down. Feeling like she was starving she felt driven to devour every last bit of love in her victim, to sate and satisfy her gnawing hunger but she managed to bring herself under control and slow the flow of emotion into her.
“That’s enough,” came Tom’s thoughts to her a moment later, “you don’t want to drain it, you’ll kill it,” came Tom’s thoughts to her a moment later.
The desire to go on feeding was overwhelming and it took some greater effort from Marta to stop, to pull herself back. A moment later she sat at the table breathing hard, her eyes wide.
“Feel better?” Tom asked. Marta nodded but said nothing.
“Good. Let’s go,” said Tom, rising from the table. Marta looked up at him.
“Where are we going?” Marta asked, not suspiciously now but simply out of curiosity.
“I’m taking you to a safe house, a place where you can stay with others of our kind. They’ll teach you and train you in the things you need to know to survive here,” Tom said.
Leaving the box untouched, he and Marta rose from the table and headed out the door, back onto a now night shrouded Charles Street.
The safe house was large with many rooms. More of a loft than an actual house, it took up the entire third floor of an old brownstone building on Pinckney Street, a short walk from the greater thoroughfare, Charles Street. Close to Boston’s two major parks, The Public Garden and the Boston Commons and the normally busy Charles Street, its location gave easy access to adequate feeding grounds.
Still, it nested neatly and incongruously among the adjoining buildings that butted seamlessly up against it and there was nothing about it to make it stand out, to draw the attention of any of the thousands of humans that lived in the area. It may not have been an ideal location but, in a city of millions it was more than adequate for the purposes the Changeling Cell had put it to.
Best of all the building had a discreet, nondescript rear entrance which could be accessed directly off a small back alley. Entry into that ally was gained through a service gate which, for the most part, was always locked and accessible only by the building tenants themselves. Since there were no windows on the back of the building, only several large doors which opened onto that alley, this gave the tenants an extra level of privacy, sparing anyone entering or leaving that alley the always unnerving suspicion of being seen by prying eyes.
Having been delivered into the hands of the Changeling Cell, the group had welcomed Marta into their fold, giving her clean clothing appropriate to the climate and a cubicle in which to sleep. After that she was assigned a team-mate, a changeling who, from that point on, would be Marta’s constant companion until she was sufficiently trained and educated that she could function competently on her own in this human world.
In casual conversation that first night her team-mate, Dark Star, known among the humans as Rita, had discovered that Marta’s changeling name was Splinter, an odd name for a queenlette to be sure and, not wanting to fight and possibly kill or be killed by her twin sister, she had instead fled her hive which had made Splinter a hunted outlaw, an outlaw which, if discovered by others from her hive, would be killed on sight. This reality had motivated her to leave Equestria and come to this strange and frightening world.
a weak sun shone tiredly through the thin overcast, doing little to remove the sharp sting in the cold autumn morning air as the two changelings, having assumed the form of humans, exited the front door of the safe house. walking the short distance down a normally quiet Pinckney street toward the much busier Charles Street about a quarter mile away.
“It’s a good thing Black Sun found you when he did. You were in bad shape, pretty close to death, actually. If you’d gone on much longer by yourself these humans would have found a changeling corpse in that park. Not something we want to happen,” said Dark Star to Splinter.
“How do these creatures stand walking on two legs? I’ve been doing it for weeks, now, and I’m still not used to it,” Marta groused, seeming to have not heard her companion.
“You get used to it. You’d better if you expect to stay in this world,” Dark Sun said dismissively.
Dark Star realized that, perhaps, Splinter had not acknowledged what she’d said about her rescue and deliverance into the cell’s hands for no other reason then she wanted only to forget about the harrowing experience of almost starving to death alone on a strange world not her own. In consideration of that possibility, Dark Star would not pursue that train of conversation.
“So, how did you manage to survive alone all those weeks?” Black Star asked.
“It wasn’t hard at first. Although humans aren’t particularly friendly it doesn’t take much to win their trust, especially the males. They’re easily manipulated,” Splinter said.
“Oh, tell me about it!” Dark Star giggled, “I mean, it’s almost too easy! Show them a little leg, some thigh, perhaps a peek at some side boob and they turn to jelly!”
“Not all of them!” Splinter frowned, her face darkening at the recall of a bad memory.
“I guess you had a run-in with one of the more violent ones?” Dark Star asked sympathetically.
“Yeah, a really sadistic rapist in the park one night. I had to revert to my changeling form and practically trample the bastard to death to stop him attacking me,” Splinter said.
“Well, that’s one of the reasons you have me with you now, to help prevent things like that from happening,” Dark Star said.
Splinter looked at Dark Star, her face touched by a soft, appreciative smile for the first time since she’d been delivered to the cell the night before but she said nothing as she and Dark Star entered Charles Street.
Turning left Dark Star and Splinter continued on for another three blocks until they came to a local coffee house with a large, green and white logo-ed sign above the front door. A small crowd of humans were gathered on the sidewalk sipping from paper cups engaged in small talk.
“One of the things about living among these simple creatures is you have to learn to act like them. This requires developing the ability to behave just as stupidly as they do, sometimes,” Dark Star said, her face blank so as to hide her sense of disgust at being forced to interact with these inferior things as if she were one of them.
“Good morning, Rita!” smiled one of the humans to Dark Star as she and Splinter approached the door. Dressed in a denim shirt, jeans, boots and a plushly lined denim jacket, he bore the appearance of a lowly, common worker.
“Oh! Good morning, Jimmy! How are you, dear?” Dark Star answered brightly, putting on her best ‘I’m happy to see you’ face as she sidled up close to this male. Striking an alluring pose and giving him inviting glances, Black Star then began a display of warm affection for it.
“Oh, you know me! Always lonely without you, baby!” responded the human with equal affection.
Just then Splinter was hit with an overwhelming and powerfully tempting wave of love tinged with a bitter, sharp sting of lust. Hungry, Splinter felt herself compelled to reach out and feed from it.
‘Back off! This one’s mine! Go find your own!’ came Dark Star’s thought blasting into Splinter’s mind with such force it frightened her, causing her to shoot a look of alarm at Dark Star for only the briefest of instants before she was able to regain composure.
“And, who have we here?” asked the human male, Jimmy. Splinter, having regained herself, saw it looking at her with a smile that suggested, more than anything else, if given half the chance he would eat her alive.
“Oh! This is my cousin, Marta! She just moved here from Melrose to attend Boston College. She’ll be staying with me while she’s in school,” Dark Star said pleasantly, never once breaking her facade of warm affection for this human for even an instant.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Marta!” smiled the human warmly, extending his hand to her.
‘Take the hand, shake it. Be friendly,’ came Dark Star’s thought into Splinter’s head.
“It’s nice to meet you too!” Marta said, taking that oddly rough-skinned hand in her own for a moment while feigning her warmest, best smile.
Was Splinter imagining things or did this human just tense a little while giving her an inscrutably odd look?
“Forgive my cousin, she’s shy,” covered Dark Star, her own mask of warmth never flickering. The appropriate introductions having been made, the human now ignored Splinter as much as he could without being rude.
“So, when are we going on our next date?” Jimmy asked.
“How soon can you show me six figures in your bank account?” Dark Star joked, continuing to be affectionate.
“Maybe a lot sooner than you think, babe!” Jimmy grinned.
“Well, let me know when you can. I could use a few new diamonds. Big ones!” Dark Star teased before pulling gently back from the human, then, “now if you’ll excuse me, sweetie, my cousin and I have things to discuss.”
“Yeah, I suppose I better get off to work, myself, otherwise I’ll never get to those six figures you want to see,” he grinned.
With that, Dark star gave the human a wink and a quick kiss on the cheek before turning back to Splinter and they went into the cafe.
Once inside Dark Star stepped up to the counter, ordered coffee for herself and Splinter.
“How can you be so openly affectionate with those things?” Splinter asked disgustedly a moment later after they’d seated themselves at a table near the door.
“You have much to learn, young one,” Dark Star said quietly, then, “it’s not so different here as it was in Equestria. As with the ponies all you need to do with these humans is give them reasons to build an emotional bond. The more you can do that the bigger your food pool will be.”
“So, why did you scream in my head to back off, not touch him?” Splinter said mildly annoyed and resentful since she felt she’d been deprived of breakfast.
“Things are different here. We don’t feed en masse like we used to do in Equestria. Unlike the ponies these humans have an innate sense of suspicion and a knack for picking up on anything out of the ordinary, no matter how slight that might be but it explains why you wore out your welcome with the other humans you latched onto, here,” Dark Star said.
Although it seemed harsh, Dark Star wasn’t trying to be but to be as efficient as she could in imparting her knowledge to Splinter. Realizing this, Splinter said nothing but looked down at her paper coffee cup.
“What’s this?” Splinter asked, nodding toward the black liquid in the cup.
“It’s a stimulant, a favorite morning drink among the humans. They drink it to... ‘wake up’. It’s a common tradition with them,” Dark Star said.
Picking up the cup, Splinter sniffed at hit, wrinkled her nose at what she thought was its unpleasant smell. Curious, she took a sip then set the cup down with a frown of disgust.
“How do they stand this nuts? It’s awful!” Splinter scowled.
“You better get used to drinking it otherwise you’ll stand out and these humans will take notice of you as being odd. You don’t want that. You want to blend in, become as much like them as you can,” Dark Star cautioned.
Splinters eyes widened as realization of a question dawned on her.
“Wait... Does this fitting in include having sex with them?” Splinter asked, alarmed.
“Let me put it this way; you do whatever’s necessary to fit in with these things, make them think you’re one of them. Anything. Now drink your coffee,” Dark Star said.
“There’s no way I’ll ever have sex with food!” grunted Splinter in disgust as she braced herself, gulped down a large portion of her coffee, grimacing.
“If it means the difference between fitting in, keeping your secret or being found out you will,” said Dark Star as she calmly sipped her own coffee.
“So, I guess Black Sun showed you how to feed from a distance,” she asked.
“Yeah, last night at a place just up the street. I was surprised because I honestly didn’t know I could do that.”
“You’re a queenlette and your queen mother didn’t teach you that?” Dark Star asked, surprised, then, “I suppose she didn’t teach you how to scan for food, either?”
“Hey, back it up a little, will you?” groused Splinter resentfully, “I’ll tell you what I told him: I didn’t have time to learn any of that before I ran, okay? Now lay off!”
Dark Star’s expression of cool, calm calculation didn’t change as she glanced up from her cup to look at Splinter.
“That attitude won’t fly. Keep that up and you’ll find yourself in a death battle with one of us before too long.” Then, changing the subject, “I didn’t see you at orientation this morning. Have you spoken with Foul yet? She had some questions for you.”
Foul; the oldest, most knowledgeable and decidedly most powerful among the Changelings of that cell. As such she was also the most domineering. Serving as a surrogate Queen Mother she kept a tight grip on the group, reigning over them with an iron fist in a velvet glove.
Dark Star had seen how the Queen Mother had occasion to show her power several years before, demonstrating it conclusively when she’d been challenged for her position by a younger Queenlette who, being convinced of her own strength and superiority, had challenged the ruler. The challenge had ended almost as quickly as it had begun when Foul had simply used her magic to vaporize the arrogant upstart with seemingly no more effort than it would take to levitate a small object. Cowed and deeply intimidated, the other members of the cell surrendered any thoughts of confronting her again and no other challenges were made from that point on.
Splinter had sensed Foul’s power almost from the moment she’d stepped through the door into that cell, had found it overwhelming and had instinctively submitted to it knowing that this Foul was obviously her new ruler.
Still, and in a seeming incongruity, Splinter had thought Foul warm and friendly when she’d met her, thinking that it was not the traditional or customary attitude to be assumed by a Hive Queen but even on that first night Splinter had seen Foul be light-hearted, even playful with some of the others, definitely not the typical attitude expected of the ruler of a Cell.
Even on that same night, Splinter had seen a disagreement occur between Foul and a mare Splinter hadn’t met yet. The mare had been aggressive, seeking to push the disagreement quickly into a confrontation. Foul, having no patience for such things, had simply picked up the mare, slamming her into a back wall with such force the snap of breaking bones could be heard, leaving the mare badly injured and unconscious on the floor. The confrontation over, Foul returned to her cell leaving those who’d seen what had happened to stare after her in slack-jawed shock.
This witnessing of this strange, mercurial flip of moods had left a strong, albeit disturbing impression on Splinter when she realized that she would always have to be cautious and careful of what she did around the Queen Mother so as not to raise her ire, a thing which she instantly knew could end in disaster. Yet, Splinter took great comfort in knowing that her new ruler was so strong, so powerful and it made her feel safe, secure in the knowledge that, should such circumstances arise that required it, a ruthless Foul would fight bravely to defend the Cell.
“Well?” asked Dark Star, annoyed at Splinter’s seeming daydreaming.
“What?” Splinter asked, blinking, as she was snapped back to reality.
“Foul! Did you speak to her?” Dark Star said in mild exasperation.
“Oh! No, not this morning. I didn’t see her,” Splinter said.
“Since you’re new there’ll be a short time in which you’ll be forgiven for such mistakes but you better fall in line and get with the program quick or you could end up being vaporized. The Queen Mother has little tolerance for those who don’t keep step,” Dark Star said.
Splinter, being told this, cringed inwardly as she wondered just what, exactly, she’d been delivered into. She’d hated the oppression and subjugation she’d experienced in her old Hive, had balked at it. That, among other things, had been one of the deciding factors that had compelled her to flee, to seek freedom from domination, to liberate herself into the world at large, thinking that doing so would change her life for the better. Little did she realize just how vulnerable she’d made herself by fleeing, single-mindedly thinking only of freedom.
“I’m not sure I’m doing the right thing by being in the Cell,” Splinter said quietly. Her eyes widening, Dark Star openly stared at her in horror.
“You’re not just going to leave are you?” Dark Star gasped.
“I’m thinking about it,” Splinter said.
“And how will you survive without us? It’s clear to me that you ended up with us because you can’t! Now, stop thinking about such stupid things as leaving and get right or you will end up dead,” Dark Star said with deadly earnestness.
“So, what happens if I do leave?” Splinter asked.
“You’d be considered a traitor. You might not be killed– that depends on Foul’s mood– but we’ll turn our backs on you. It’d be as if you didn’t exist, never existed. You really would be on your own. If Foul decided you were a high enough risk you’d be hunted for the rest of your life and killed when we found you and, trust me, we would find you,” Dark Star said.
So! That was it? From one frying pan into another? No, it couldn’t be. There had to be another way, a way that would allow Splinter to both be free and live in peace. Seeing Dark Star’s expression of absolute resolution Splinter decided to change the subject.
“Why are there no drones in our cell?” Splinter asked.
Dark Star smiled softly, thinking that Splinter had wisely surrendered any ideas of leaving.
“As I’ve said, things are different here. We don’t need drones so the Queen Mother doesn’t lay eggs for them,” Dark Star said.
“So, how do you replenish the hive when members die?” Splinter asked.
“When the need arises the Queen Mother will leave the hive, find a suitable human male to inseminate her then, returning, she’ll lay the appropriate number of eggs. Simple,” Dark Star said.
Splinter cringed at the thought that the Queen Mother would permit pure Changeling blood to be sullied and polluted by human filth but, keeping tight control over her face, she hid her disgust and said nothing.
“So, what did Foul want to talk to me about?” Splinter asked.
“You’d know if you’d been to the meeting this morning. Don’t miss the next one,” Dark Star said.
“We’re wasting time! I’m starving! When do we eat?” groused Splinter as she hungrily licked her lips and covertly eyed the humans in the cafe.
“It’s slim pickings here this morning, other than for Jimmy. Surprising. Usually there’s more of an assortment here at this time of day,” Dark Star said.
“Great. So now what?” grumbled Splinter, frowning down at her now empty coffee cup.
“Come on! This isn’t the only place to get a meal,” Dark Star said, rising from her seat, Splinter right behind her.
A moment later the two were heading up Charles street in the direction of the Boston Commons and it seemed to Splinter that Dark Star was taking them there in search for food. But, that made no sense to Splinter considering how sparsely populated the park was on this gray, cold day.
“There’s nothing here,” Splinter said as they walked briskly past empty benches that faced and bordered cold, concrete paths.
“Patience. We’ll arrive at our destination shortly. Then you can feast to your heart’s content,” Dark star said.
Within a few minutes the two stood at the corner of Park and Tremont Streets, the north eastern most corner of the park.
As Splinter followed, watching, Dark Star headed for a church across the street, boldly walking towards its open doors. A moment later Splinter licked her lips, her eyes sparkling when she realized why the two stepped into the human house of religious worship.
Her eyes adjusting to the dimness Splinter followed as Dark Star quickly and quietly took a seat near the door, closed her eyes to scan the large crowd of seated worshippers who prayed quietly or listened as the priest stood at his altar giving a sermon. His droning monotone was hypnotic and Splinter noted that it seemed to have lulled the assembly into a kind of passive trance.
“Close your eyes and scan the crowd for the most ardent worshippers. You can feed from those,” Dark Star whispered quietly.
“But, I’m not sure how,” Splinter said.
“It’s not hard. Just cast your mind out into the crowd and lightly touch each one. Think of it as being like gently licking an ice cream,” Dark Star said.
Closing her eyes Splinter focused her will but had to work to project it. Then she remembered a certain sense she’d had when Black Sun had connected with her the night before, showing her how to feed from a distance. Trying again she was successful. Elated by her unexpected success Splinter almost laughed out loud with the pleasure of it, had to work hard to restrain herself so as not to give herself away.
One by one she scanned the hearts of those in front of her until she found one; a portly, middle aged woman, who seemed to be among the most devoted of the worshippers. Extending her mental tentacle she carefully slipped it into her unwitting victim and began to feed.
Splinter gave a start, her eyes snapping open, overwhelmed by the sheer deliciousness of the love she was now greedily sucking down, ravenously devouring it.
“Easy! Back off! Not so fast!” hissed Dark Star in a quiet but firmly warning whisper but it was too late. Overwhelmed by her hunger and the ambrosia-like flavor of the woman’s religious fervor Splinter lost control, sucking out the human’s love in huge gulps, unwittingly taking much of the worshiper’s life force with it.
“Back off! You’ll kill it!” warned Dark Star in a threatening growl but, try as she might, Splinter couldn’t. Like someone lost in the throes of climax there was no hope of control, no hope of pulling back, now.
Just then the human female leapt to her feet and, her face ashen, clutched at her chest. Grimacing in pain she collapsed to the floor, those around her shouting in startled horror.
“Fuck! Now you’ve done it!” Dark Star shouted angrily into Splinter’s mind, startling the changeling out of her feeding frenzy.
Leaping to her feet Dark Star grabbed Splinters arm and raced from the church, dragging a startled splinter behind her.
“What the fuck is wrong with you? I told you to back off or you’d kill it and, now, you probably have!” Dark Star shouted angrily at Splinter after they’d gotten several blocks away.
Splinter trembled, terrified, as the full horror of what she’d done began to sink in.
“I couldn’t stop myself! It was too good and it was like something had taken control of me! I couldn’t help it!” blurted Splinter frantically as she panicked, sweat beading on her forehead.
Spinning on her heel Dark Star grabbed Splinter by the front of her coat and swung her arm in a vicious back-hand striking Splinter full across the face, sending her reeling.
“Fool! You just killed one of our best food animals! Do you have any idea how hard it is to find food sources of that high a quality in a place like this?”
“I’m... I’m sorry!” groaned Splinter as she rubbed the painful bruise on her face.
“If you do that again I will kill you, myself!” roared Dark Star furiously in a ragged pant as she glared at Splinter.
Those few passing humans who witnessed this blandly continued on their way, thinking it to be nothing more than some kind of cat fight.
Grabbing Splinter by the coat Dark Star began dragging her back in the direction of the Hive.
“You’ve had your breakfast, time to get back to shelter,” hissed Dark Star as Splinter, whimpering, struggled weakly to free herself from her companion’s grip.
“Hey! You, there! What are you doing?” came a decidedly commanding shout from Dark Star’s right. Freezing in their tracks, the two changelings turned to see a police officer striding toward them. It took the well experienced Dark Star no more than a second to contrive an effective ruse.
“I’m saving my cousin from making a stupid mistake! I’ll die before I let her do drugs!” shouted Dark Star back at the officer who, surprised, stopped short and stared at them with a puzzled expression. A moment later a smile broke over his face.
“Good for you!” grinned the officer, “it’d be nice if there were more like you around, my job would be a lot easier.” With that he respectfully tipped the bill of his cap to them, turned and headed off.
As if sensing the growing disaster of the day, the skies had grown darker, heavier, as low, pendulous clouds hung over the city threatening rain. As the two changelings reached Charles street the weather broke as the first few snowflakes drifted down, touched lightly upon the pavement and promptly disappeared.
“You do realize Foul will have to be told of this,” grunted Dark Star in angry disgust as she and Splinter continued on toward their Pinckney Street hive.
“What do you think she’ll do to me?” Splinter asked apprehensively.
“It all depends on what kind of mood she’s in when we return but, if I have to make a guess, I’d guess she’ll probably turn you into a Feeder and be done with you,” Dark Star said, cringing at the thought of Splinter’s possible fate.
Feeders, bumbling loose-cannon Changelings who, stripped of their wills by magic, were reduced to things no better than zombie automatons. Forced to spend the rest of their lives slipping out of their hive at night to feed on the unwary, collecting as much love as they could hold, they would return to the hive and give almost all of it to the Queen Mother, nourishing her with what they had worked for. Being left with little more than enough to keep from starving to death, theirs was a brutal hell, not life at all but an endless nightmare from which they could never awaken.
Stopping short, Splinter now stared in horror at her companion.
“No... No! She can’t do that to me! I won’t let her do that to me!” Splinter gasped, trembling, as she began backing away from Dark Star.
“You’ve fucked up enough for one day! Don’t you dare do what I think you’re going to do!” barked Dark Star as she reached out to grab Splinter, to prevent her from running.
Panicked, Splinter lashed out with her magic, stunning a now angrily shouting Dark Star. Bolting, she ran headlong into the street avoiding being hit by racing cars only by fractions of an inch, charging in screaming, mindless horror across the Public Garden, knocking startled pedestrians out of her way.
Dark Star, recovered from Splinters attack, sighed in deep frustration. Now she would be the one to be disciplined for having lost her charge. Trembling with fear, she turned and began walking back to the hive as a terrified Splinter disappeared into the concrete canyons of Boston.
And, now... Marta
***InThe Sun's Cold Light***
I’ve been reading a lot in the papers about changelings; those creatures of legend and myth. Like the Sasquatch and the Chupa Cabra, they are things borne of the wild imaginations of lunatics and the certifiably insane. That is the comfortably accepted view of such things of the people Boston and elsewhere.
But stories persist and reports of sightings continue to appear on a regular basis on blogs and Internet web pages around the world, reports which insist that Changelings are real and that the land from which they come, Equestria, is equally and concretely as real. Even as I read the papers from day to day it seems those stories are on the rise as are reports of so-called sightings.
Still, no matter how much effort is put into the exploding and debunking of these nonsensical tales, the stories persist...
– An excerpt from a letter submitted by Beacon Hill resident Ananais Hammond to the Editorial Department of the Boston Globe, November 2nd, 2022.
***
It was a sunny, cold and breezy late autumn day as a young woman sat on the grass beneath a now sparsely leaved willow tree. Hugging herself, she morosely eyed the Swan Boats in the Boston Public Garden gliding out from their green, wooden dock at pond side. The driver pedaled casually as he steered, taking tourists on a slow ride around the small, man-made pond in the center of the park before returning some ten minutes later.
With long, raven black hair, large, pale aqua eyes and olive skin she was a stunningly beautiful girl, albeit a dirty one as her unwashed hair hung in oily, limp strands from her head.
Dressed only in a dirty and stained light summer dress and tan flats, her attire was completely unsuited to the sharp chill that afternoon and she wished she’d thought to bring a coat with her and she would have if she’d had one.
Feeling the cold bite of the breeze, she hugged herself more tightly wishing that the weak, late afternoon autumn sun would warm her. Above and beyond that she felt a rumbling of hunger in her stomach. Opening her small, worn handbag she rummaged through its contents hoping to find, perhaps, a dollar or some small bit of change with which she could buy something to eat. Sighing in frustration, she dropped the bag. She’d found nothing but a few dull copper pennies, hardly enough to buy food.
“Are you alright?” came a strong, soft but gentle voice from her left.
Snapping her eyes toward the sound she stared, glaring, wondering why a stranger would bother to know, even dare to disturb her solitude.
“What do you care?” she snapped, eyeing him suspiciously for a moment before returning her eyes to the drifting Swan Boats, her face darkened by a scowl.
“I’m Tom,” said the stranger pleasantly, his voice reassuring, “I see you here every day on my way to work. What’s your name?”
Although depressed by her present circumstances, the young woman instantly latched on to this opportunity that had virtually dropped into her lap.
“I’m Marta,” she grunted, working hard to bury her sudden feeling of excitement at this chance to take advantage of some sucker.
“Well, Marta, are you from around here?” Tom asked, casually squatting down next to her, now.
“No,” she grunted flatly, still refusing to look at him as she hugged herself even more tightly, tucking her legs under herself in the hope that compressing her form might help to warm her a little.
Just then she jumped with a little start when she felt the heavy, plush fabric of a coat laid upon her shoulders.
She turned and stared down at her now covered shoulders then to Tom, now coatless. Having seen her shivering in the chill air, he had draped his own garment upon her shoulders. Instinctively she wrapped it tightly around herself.
“You didn’t have to do that, I was fine,” she groused before looking away again.
“No you arn't!” chuckled Tom, “You're freezing you're butt off!”
Marta sighed, relishing the warmth of the garment now wrapped about her.
“Thanks,” she muttered so quietly that Tom almost didn’t hear her.
Yeah, this was a definite sucker, someone she knew she could play for what she needed. Perhaps she could play him for quite a lot providing she started acting in a way that didn’t make her seem like a total puppy to the guy.
Still, there was something about this guy, some sense of something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. No matter. She’d make her play.
“Hey, will you buy me something to eat?” she suddenly blurted out, looking at Tom, now.
“Yeah, I can do that,” he nodded, smiling as he rose to his feet, anticipating that Marta would follow him, then, “if you don’t mind we can go to my house and I can fix us something there.”
Suddenly tensing, Marta thought to simply tell this guy no, give him back his coat and walk away. Even in the short time she’d been stranded, penniless, in Boston she’d heard the horror stories from others, stories of girls who, being desperate, had trustingly accepted invitations to go to the homes of men only to be brutalized, raped, beaten and even murdered.
“I don’t know you so can we go to a restaurant, instead?” she said, eyeing Tom suspiciously.
Tom’s eyebrows shot up as he stared at Marta for a moment, sizing her up. Feeling compassion for this young woman he hadn’t considered that she might be a hustler, might have planted herself in the park in the hope of luring some unsuspecting man or woman and, with the right sob story rightly told, conning them into doing her bidding, possibly hustling them out of some money. Could she be a prostitute? In a city as large as Boston and being so filled with desperately impoverished people, that was a distinct possibility.
“Look, I see you here every day and you’re obviously homeless. I felt bad for you and wanted to do something nice but don’t try to hustle me,” Tom said quite bluntly, his brows knitting together.
Marta snapped her eyes back to Tom, glared at him for a moment before looking away, again.
“Who says I’m a hustler? Can’t’ a girl just sit in the park and enjoy the Swan Boats?” she said curtly, doing her best to sound convincing. Still, the nervous tremor in her voice was too obvious and she was sure it had given her away.
“Well, I could just run you in for vagrancy but I’d rather not do that if we can avoid it,” Tom grinned, pulling a badge from his back pocket and showing it to her.
Aw nuts! This guy was a cop? As if things weren’t bad enough, now she stood the very real possibility of going to jail, too?
“Fine! I’ll just go!” she sighed, defeated, as she rose, removed the coat from her shoulders and started to hand it back to Tom. The sun hanging low in the sky now, the air had grown colder and she shivered visibly as the sharp sting of that crisp breeze hit her. She scowled, hugged herself again and began to walk way.
“I’m sorry if I scared you,” said Tom, keeping up with her as she trod quickly across the grass. She stopped, turned and looked at him, standing there with that stupid smile on his face holding his coat out to her. That coat. That nice, warm, comfortable coat. Unable to resist Marta quicky reached out and snatched it from Tom’s hand, put it back over her shoulders.
“So, what’re you in the mood for?” Tom asked.
“What?” Marta asked, wondering why he’d asked that, then remembered that she’d said she wanted to go to a restaurant, “Oh! Um, I don’t care. Anything’s fine,” she said flatly.
“There’s a pretty good chicken place on Charles Street if that’s okay with you?” Tom asked.
“Fine! Let’s go!” Marta said tersely as she began walking quickly toward the edge of the Public Garden toward Charles Street, not even bothering to see if Tom was following.
It was while he was catching up to her that Tom noticed something so odd that it instantly caught his attention yet, so subtle that he questioned whether he’d actually seen it or not.
As he was catching up with her it seemed that to him some kind of ripple had appeared around Marta for a moment, like a heat shimmer radiating off an object on a hot summer day and, within that shimmer the briefest hint, as if something were being revealed or momentarily uncovered.
What he’d seen was nothing but the merest peek; a spot on her olive skinned arm suddenly turning to a deep, charcoal gray and her lower legs assuming the shape of those of a horse but only for the briefest of instants. He paused, blinked at the odd sight then, shaking his head, quickly caught up with her. It was then that he remembered something he’d read in one or two police reports he’d seen over the last year. Still, seeing this, his suspicions were confirmed.
“You’re a changeling,” he said, walking beside her, now.
Marta froze in her tracks, turned to stare directly at Tom, surprise and shock flashing across her face for the briefest of instants before she buried and locked it behind a blank expression.
“What, are you crazy? There’s no such thing! Great! Just what I need! A nut!” she growled as she continued walking on.
“I could arrest you, take you to a hospital where you’d be scanned and examined. That would tell me the truth even you won’t.” he said flatly and in a voice which told Marta he’d do it without hesitation.
Spinning on her heel, her hands balled into fists. In a sudden burst of fury she leaned toward him. Although outwardly angry, inside she felt the sudden rush of sharp panic quickly rise in her. Even so, knowing she was unavoidably trapped she would confess it. There was no other choice.
“Yeah! I’m a fucking changeling, so what? What’s it to you, anyway?” she barked, growing enraged that this seemingly stupid stranger had somehow discovered her most tightly guarded secret.
Tom lowered his eyes and peered at the ground thoughtfully for a moment. Then, smiling again, he looked up at her.
“So, what do you like best? Regular or extra crispy?” he asked, stepping toward her again.
Blinking, Marta now stared blankly at Tom in abject shock that he’d not so much as batted an eye at her astonishing revelation, a revelation which should have caused him to be wary at the very least. Why wasn't he terrified? It was just then that a realization hit her like a bright light suddenly switching on in the darkness of her mind. Startled beyond reason by his reaction, Marta stormed up to him and grabbing him by the shoulders, drew her face close to his.
“What the fuck is wrong with you? I just confessed the truth about the biggest mystery of the twenty first century to you and all you can ask is if I want regular or extra crispy? The fuck, man!”
Still smiling, Tom reached up and gently removed Marta’s hands from his shoulders and let them go.
Then, for just the briefest of instants, Marta saw something that caused her to feel faint and her head to spin in shock. Right before her eyes, the air around Tom's face rippled and the color of his eyes changed to a bright, glowing green as his skin showed a familiar dark charcoal, a cragged horn on his forehead flashing into sight for but a split second before vanishing again.
Her mouth falling agape, Marta stared, her shock overwhelming and complete.
“You’re... One of us?” she gasped.
“You’re sloppy,” Tom frowned, “you leave yourself too open, too vulnerable. You should know better,” he said as he stepped back. With that he resumed walking toward Charles Street, paused when Marta simply stood there staring at him.
"How did you know?" Marta asked, baffled.
"We... Know," Tom said, giving her an indecipherable look. Marta stood there staring at him for a moment more.
“What’re you waiting for? Let’s go!”s he said.
With a shake of her head Marta snapped herself back to her senses and ran after Tom. Catching up to him she continued to stare, her expression blank.
“Stop staring, you’ll draw attention,” he said quietly, giving her a nod.
“So, why are we going to this chicken place?” Marta asked as they crossed Beacon Street, entered Charles Street, moving toward the Longfellow Bridge.
“For whatever reason the place tends to attract a rather large number of couples each day. If we’re lucky there may be a few there. If you’re sufficiently skilled you may be able to covertly feed off of them, gain a little strength,” Tom said.
“Wait, what?” asked Marta, confused, “feed from a distance? I’ve never heard such a thing!”
“Didn’t your Hive Queen teach you anything?” Tom asked, frowning with disgust.
“I wasn’t a common hoardling, I was a Queenlette! Either me or my twin sister were destined to rule our hive, depending on which one of us won a battle to the death.” she grunted sounding offended.
“Even so, your Queen Mother should have taught you that much, at least!” he grunted, throwing her a hard look at they walked on. Slowing, Tom paused to look at Marta.
“Apparently there was no battle between you and your sister. You’re here. What happened?”
“I ran rather than fight my sister. I abandoned my hive. Rather than stay in Equestria I came to this world,” Marta said, lowering her head and feeling the hot sting of shame for her seeming cowardice. Tom, seeing the wisdom of not persuing the subject, moved on.
“And how long have you been here?” Tom asked.
“About month, maybe five weeks. Not very long,” Marta said.
A moment later they reached their destination. Stepping through the door Tom quickly surveyed the interior, noted that there were couples sitting at various tables. One couple sat sufficiently close to an empty table that it shouldn’t be too difficult for even a rank amateur to feed from them over that short distance.
Stepping up to the counter, Tom ordered the six piece chicken box, paid for the order. He and Marta waited until the server returned a moment later with his order. Tom picked up the box and the two took a seat at the table nearest one of the couples, setting the box down on the table between them.
“Do you feel strong enough to make an effort to feed?” Tom asked Marta.
“I think so but, then, what choice do I have? If I go on much longer I think I might pass out,” Marta said.
“Close your eyes and concentrate on the nearest couple. Focus your will on the one you feel has the strongest love. Reach out and touch that one with your will,” Tom said.
Closing her eyes Marta concentrated, putting all of herself into the effort. After several minutes she snapped her eyes open and grunted in frustrated exasperation.
“Nothing’s happening! I can’t do it!” she growled, frowning.
“Close your eyes and try again,” Tom said as he reached across the table and laid his hand over hers. Instructing Marta to close her eyes again he did the same and Marta renewed her efforts but, this time, she felt something join her, strengthen her, guide her. It was Tom or, rather, what seemed to be his essence drawing her mind out, leading her until she could feel herself drawing nearer to the unwitting couple at the nearby table.
As she felt her mind draw nearer to the humans a mental tentacle seemed to shoot out of her, latch onto the essence of the nearest human, sink into the very heart of it. A moment later she began greedily sucking up and taking into herself the nourishing emotions.
“Easy! Not so fast! You don’t want to make them aware of you or of what you’re doing,” came Tom’s thoughts into hers.
It took some effort on Marta’s part to pull back, slow down. Feeling like she was starving she felt driven to devour every last bit of love in her victim, to sate and satisfy her gnawing hunger but she managed to bring herself under control and slow the flow of emotion into her.
“That’s enough,” came Tom’s thoughts to her a moment later, “you don’t want to drain it, you’ll kill it,” came Tom’s thoughts to her a moment later.
The desire to go on feeding was overwhelming and it took some greater effort from Marta to stop, to pull herself back. A moment later she sat at the table breathing hard, her eyes wide.
“Feel better?” Tom asked. Marta nodded but said nothing.
“Good. Let’s go,” said Tom, rising from the table. Marta looked up at him.
“Where are we going?” Marta asked, not suspiciously now but simply out of curiosity.
“I’m taking you to a safe house, a place where you can stay with others of our kind. They’ll teach you and train you in the things you need to know to survive here,” Tom said.
Leaving the box untouched, he and Marta rose from the table and headed out the door, back onto a now night shrouded Charles Street.
***Under A Graying Sky***
The safe house was large with many rooms. More of a loft than an actual house, it took up the entire third floor of an old brownstone building on Pinckney Street, a short walk from the greater thoroughfare, Charles Street. Close to Boston’s two major parks, The Public Garden and the Boston Commons and the normally busy Charles Street, its location gave easy access to adequate feeding grounds.
Still, it nested neatly and incongruously among the adjoining buildings that butted seamlessly up against it and there was nothing about it to make it stand out, to draw the attention of any of the thousands of humans that lived in the area. It may not have been an ideal location but, in a city of millions it was more than adequate for the purposes the Changeling Cell had put it to.
Best of all the building had a discreet, nondescript rear entrance which could be accessed directly off a small back alley. Entry into that ally was gained through a service gate which, for the most part, was always locked and accessible only by the building tenants themselves. Since there were no windows on the back of the building, only several large doors which opened onto that alley, this gave the tenants an extra level of privacy, sparing anyone entering or leaving that alley the always unnerving suspicion of being seen by prying eyes.
Having been delivered into the hands of the Changeling Cell, the group had welcomed Marta into their fold, giving her clean clothing appropriate to the climate and a cubicle in which to sleep. After that she was assigned a team-mate, a changeling who, from that point on, would be Marta’s constant companion until she was sufficiently trained and educated that she could function competently on her own in this human world.
In casual conversation that first night her team-mate, Dark Star, known among the humans as Rita, had discovered that Marta’s changeling name was Splinter, an odd name for a queenlette to be sure and, not wanting to fight and possibly kill or be killed by her twin sister, she had instead fled her hive which had made Splinter a hunted outlaw, an outlaw which, if discovered by others from her hive, would be killed on sight. This reality had motivated her to leave Equestria and come to this strange and frightening world.
a weak sun shone tiredly through the thin overcast, doing little to remove the sharp sting in the cold autumn morning air as the two changelings, having assumed the form of humans, exited the front door of the safe house. walking the short distance down a normally quiet Pinckney street toward the much busier Charles Street about a quarter mile away.
“It’s a good thing Black Sun found you when he did. You were in bad shape, pretty close to death, actually. If you’d gone on much longer by yourself these humans would have found a changeling corpse in that park. Not something we want to happen,” said Dark Star to Splinter.
“How do these creatures stand walking on two legs? I’ve been doing it for weeks, now, and I’m still not used to it,” Marta groused, seeming to have not heard her companion.
“You get used to it. You’d better if you expect to stay in this world,” Dark Sun said dismissively.
Dark Star realized that, perhaps, Splinter had not acknowledged what she’d said about her rescue and deliverance into the cell’s hands for no other reason then she wanted only to forget about the harrowing experience of almost starving to death alone on a strange world not her own. In consideration of that possibility, Dark Star would not pursue that train of conversation.
“So, how did you manage to survive alone all those weeks?” Black Star asked.
“It wasn’t hard at first. Although humans aren’t particularly friendly it doesn’t take much to win their trust, especially the males. They’re easily manipulated,” Splinter said.
“Oh, tell me about it!” Dark Star giggled, “I mean, it’s almost too easy! Show them a little leg, some thigh, perhaps a peek at some side boob and they turn to jelly!”
“Not all of them!” Splinter frowned, her face darkening at the recall of a bad memory.
“I guess you had a run-in with one of the more violent ones?” Dark Star asked sympathetically.
“Yeah, a really sadistic rapist in the park one night. I had to revert to my changeling form and practically trample the bastard to death to stop him attacking me,” Splinter said.
“Well, that’s one of the reasons you have me with you now, to help prevent things like that from happening,” Dark Star said.
Splinter looked at Dark Star, her face touched by a soft, appreciative smile for the first time since she’d been delivered to the cell the night before but she said nothing as she and Dark Star entered Charles Street.
Turning left Dark Star and Splinter continued on for another three blocks until they came to a local coffee house with a large, green and white logo-ed sign above the front door. A small crowd of humans were gathered on the sidewalk sipping from paper cups engaged in small talk.
“One of the things about living among these simple creatures is you have to learn to act like them. This requires developing the ability to behave just as stupidly as they do, sometimes,” Dark Star said, her face blank so as to hide her sense of disgust at being forced to interact with these inferior things as if she were one of them.
“Good morning, Rita!” smiled one of the humans to Dark Star as she and Splinter approached the door. Dressed in a denim shirt, jeans, boots and a plushly lined denim jacket, he bore the appearance of a lowly, common worker.
“Oh! Good morning, Jimmy! How are you, dear?” Dark Star answered brightly, putting on her best ‘I’m happy to see you’ face as she sidled up close to this male. Striking an alluring pose and giving him inviting glances, Black Star then began a display of warm affection for it.
“Oh, you know me! Always lonely without you, baby!” responded the human with equal affection.
Just then Splinter was hit with an overwhelming and powerfully tempting wave of love tinged with a bitter, sharp sting of lust. Hungry, Splinter felt herself compelled to reach out and feed from it.
‘Back off! This one’s mine! Go find your own!’ came Dark Star’s thought blasting into Splinter’s mind with such force it frightened her, causing her to shoot a look of alarm at Dark Star for only the briefest of instants before she was able to regain composure.
“And, who have we here?” asked the human male, Jimmy. Splinter, having regained herself, saw it looking at her with a smile that suggested, more than anything else, if given half the chance he would eat her alive.
“Oh! This is my cousin, Marta! She just moved here from Melrose to attend Boston College. She’ll be staying with me while she’s in school,” Dark Star said pleasantly, never once breaking her facade of warm affection for this human for even an instant.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Marta!” smiled the human warmly, extending his hand to her.
‘Take the hand, shake it. Be friendly,’ came Dark Star’s thought into Splinter’s head.
“It’s nice to meet you too!” Marta said, taking that oddly rough-skinned hand in her own for a moment while feigning her warmest, best smile.
Was Splinter imagining things or did this human just tense a little while giving her an inscrutably odd look?
“Forgive my cousin, she’s shy,” covered Dark Star, her own mask of warmth never flickering. The appropriate introductions having been made, the human now ignored Splinter as much as he could without being rude.
“So, when are we going on our next date?” Jimmy asked.
“How soon can you show me six figures in your bank account?” Dark Star joked, continuing to be affectionate.
“Maybe a lot sooner than you think, babe!” Jimmy grinned.
“Well, let me know when you can. I could use a few new diamonds. Big ones!” Dark Star teased before pulling gently back from the human, then, “now if you’ll excuse me, sweetie, my cousin and I have things to discuss.”
“Yeah, I suppose I better get off to work, myself, otherwise I’ll never get to those six figures you want to see,” he grinned.
With that, Dark star gave the human a wink and a quick kiss on the cheek before turning back to Splinter and they went into the cafe.
Once inside Dark Star stepped up to the counter, ordered coffee for herself and Splinter.
“How can you be so openly affectionate with those things?” Splinter asked disgustedly a moment later after they’d seated themselves at a table near the door.
“You have much to learn, young one,” Dark Star said quietly, then, “it’s not so different here as it was in Equestria. As with the ponies all you need to do with these humans is give them reasons to build an emotional bond. The more you can do that the bigger your food pool will be.”
“So, why did you scream in my head to back off, not touch him?” Splinter said mildly annoyed and resentful since she felt she’d been deprived of breakfast.
“Things are different here. We don’t feed en masse like we used to do in Equestria. Unlike the ponies these humans have an innate sense of suspicion and a knack for picking up on anything out of the ordinary, no matter how slight that might be but it explains why you wore out your welcome with the other humans you latched onto, here,” Dark Star said.
Although it seemed harsh, Dark Star wasn’t trying to be but to be as efficient as she could in imparting her knowledge to Splinter. Realizing this, Splinter said nothing but looked down at her paper coffee cup.
“What’s this?” Splinter asked, nodding toward the black liquid in the cup.
“It’s a stimulant, a favorite morning drink among the humans. They drink it to... ‘wake up’. It’s a common tradition with them,” Dark Star said.
Picking up the cup, Splinter sniffed at hit, wrinkled her nose at what she thought was its unpleasant smell. Curious, she took a sip then set the cup down with a frown of disgust.
“How do they stand this nuts? It’s awful!” Splinter scowled.
“You better get used to drinking it otherwise you’ll stand out and these humans will take notice of you as being odd. You don’t want that. You want to blend in, become as much like them as you can,” Dark Star cautioned.
Splinters eyes widened as realization of a question dawned on her.
“Wait... Does this fitting in include having sex with them?” Splinter asked, alarmed.
“Let me put it this way; you do whatever’s necessary to fit in with these things, make them think you’re one of them. Anything. Now drink your coffee,” Dark Star said.
“There’s no way I’ll ever have sex with food!” grunted Splinter in disgust as she braced herself, gulped down a large portion of her coffee, grimacing.
“If it means the difference between fitting in, keeping your secret or being found out you will,” said Dark Star as she calmly sipped her own coffee.
“So, I guess Black Sun showed you how to feed from a distance,” she asked.
“Yeah, last night at a place just up the street. I was surprised because I honestly didn’t know I could do that.”
“You’re a queenlette and your queen mother didn’t teach you that?” Dark Star asked, surprised, then, “I suppose she didn’t teach you how to scan for food, either?”
“Hey, back it up a little, will you?” groused Splinter resentfully, “I’ll tell you what I told him: I didn’t have time to learn any of that before I ran, okay? Now lay off!”
Dark Star’s expression of cool, calm calculation didn’t change as she glanced up from her cup to look at Splinter.
“That attitude won’t fly. Keep that up and you’ll find yourself in a death battle with one of us before too long.” Then, changing the subject, “I didn’t see you at orientation this morning. Have you spoken with Foul yet? She had some questions for you.”
Foul; the oldest, most knowledgeable and decidedly most powerful among the Changelings of that cell. As such she was also the most domineering. Serving as a surrogate Queen Mother she kept a tight grip on the group, reigning over them with an iron fist in a velvet glove.
Dark Star had seen how the Queen Mother had occasion to show her power several years before, demonstrating it conclusively when she’d been challenged for her position by a younger Queenlette who, being convinced of her own strength and superiority, had challenged the ruler. The challenge had ended almost as quickly as it had begun when Foul had simply used her magic to vaporize the arrogant upstart with seemingly no more effort than it would take to levitate a small object. Cowed and deeply intimidated, the other members of the cell surrendered any thoughts of confronting her again and no other challenges were made from that point on.
Splinter had sensed Foul’s power almost from the moment she’d stepped through the door into that cell, had found it overwhelming and had instinctively submitted to it knowing that this Foul was obviously her new ruler.
Still, and in a seeming incongruity, Splinter had thought Foul warm and friendly when she’d met her, thinking that it was not the traditional or customary attitude to be assumed by a Hive Queen but even on that first night Splinter had seen Foul be light-hearted, even playful with some of the others, definitely not the typical attitude expected of the ruler of a Cell.
Even on that same night, Splinter had seen a disagreement occur between Foul and a mare Splinter hadn’t met yet. The mare had been aggressive, seeking to push the disagreement quickly into a confrontation. Foul, having no patience for such things, had simply picked up the mare, slamming her into a back wall with such force the snap of breaking bones could be heard, leaving the mare badly injured and unconscious on the floor. The confrontation over, Foul returned to her cell leaving those who’d seen what had happened to stare after her in slack-jawed shock.
This witnessing of this strange, mercurial flip of moods had left a strong, albeit disturbing impression on Splinter when she realized that she would always have to be cautious and careful of what she did around the Queen Mother so as not to raise her ire, a thing which she instantly knew could end in disaster. Yet, Splinter took great comfort in knowing that her new ruler was so strong, so powerful and it made her feel safe, secure in the knowledge that, should such circumstances arise that required it, a ruthless Foul would fight bravely to defend the Cell.
“Well?” asked Dark Star, annoyed at Splinter’s seeming daydreaming.
“What?” Splinter asked, blinking, as she was snapped back to reality.
“Foul! Did you speak to her?” Dark Star said in mild exasperation.
“Oh! No, not this morning. I didn’t see her,” Splinter said.
“Since you’re new there’ll be a short time in which you’ll be forgiven for such mistakes but you better fall in line and get with the program quick or you could end up being vaporized. The Queen Mother has little tolerance for those who don’t keep step,” Dark Star said.
Splinter, being told this, cringed inwardly as she wondered just what, exactly, she’d been delivered into. She’d hated the oppression and subjugation she’d experienced in her old Hive, had balked at it. That, among other things, had been one of the deciding factors that had compelled her to flee, to seek freedom from domination, to liberate herself into the world at large, thinking that doing so would change her life for the better. Little did she realize just how vulnerable she’d made herself by fleeing, single-mindedly thinking only of freedom.
“I’m not sure I’m doing the right thing by being in the Cell,” Splinter said quietly. Her eyes widening, Dark Star openly stared at her in horror.
“You’re not just going to leave are you?” Dark Star gasped.
“I’m thinking about it,” Splinter said.
“And how will you survive without us? It’s clear to me that you ended up with us because you can’t! Now, stop thinking about such stupid things as leaving and get right or you will end up dead,” Dark Star said with deadly earnestness.
“So, what happens if I do leave?” Splinter asked.
“You’d be considered a traitor. You might not be killed– that depends on Foul’s mood– but we’ll turn our backs on you. It’d be as if you didn’t exist, never existed. You really would be on your own. If Foul decided you were a high enough risk you’d be hunted for the rest of your life and killed when we found you and, trust me, we would find you,” Dark Star said.
So! That was it? From one frying pan into another? No, it couldn’t be. There had to be another way, a way that would allow Splinter to both be free and live in peace. Seeing Dark Star’s expression of absolute resolution Splinter decided to change the subject.
“Why are there no drones in our cell?” Splinter asked.
Dark Star smiled softly, thinking that Splinter had wisely surrendered any ideas of leaving.
“As I’ve said, things are different here. We don’t need drones so the Queen Mother doesn’t lay eggs for them,” Dark Star said.
“So, how do you replenish the hive when members die?” Splinter asked.
“When the need arises the Queen Mother will leave the hive, find a suitable human male to inseminate her then, returning, she’ll lay the appropriate number of eggs. Simple,” Dark Star said.
Splinter cringed at the thought that the Queen Mother would permit pure Changeling blood to be sullied and polluted by human filth but, keeping tight control over her face, she hid her disgust and said nothing.
“So, what did Foul want to talk to me about?” Splinter asked.
“You’d know if you’d been to the meeting this morning. Don’t miss the next one,” Dark Star said.
“We’re wasting time! I’m starving! When do we eat?” groused Splinter as she hungrily licked her lips and covertly eyed the humans in the cafe.
“It’s slim pickings here this morning, other than for Jimmy. Surprising. Usually there’s more of an assortment here at this time of day,” Dark Star said.
“Great. So now what?” grumbled Splinter, frowning down at her now empty coffee cup.
“Come on! This isn’t the only place to get a meal,” Dark Star said, rising from her seat, Splinter right behind her.
A moment later the two were heading up Charles street in the direction of the Boston Commons and it seemed to Splinter that Dark Star was taking them there in search for food. But, that made no sense to Splinter considering how sparsely populated the park was on this gray, cold day.
“There’s nothing here,” Splinter said as they walked briskly past empty benches that faced and bordered cold, concrete paths.
“Patience. We’ll arrive at our destination shortly. Then you can feast to your heart’s content,” Dark star said.
Within a few minutes the two stood at the corner of Park and Tremont Streets, the north eastern most corner of the park.
As Splinter followed, watching, Dark Star headed for a church across the street, boldly walking towards its open doors. A moment later Splinter licked her lips, her eyes sparkling when she realized why the two stepped into the human house of religious worship.
Her eyes adjusting to the dimness Splinter followed as Dark Star quickly and quietly took a seat near the door, closed her eyes to scan the large crowd of seated worshippers who prayed quietly or listened as the priest stood at his altar giving a sermon. His droning monotone was hypnotic and Splinter noted that it seemed to have lulled the assembly into a kind of passive trance.
“Close your eyes and scan the crowd for the most ardent worshippers. You can feed from those,” Dark Star whispered quietly.
“But, I’m not sure how,” Splinter said.
“It’s not hard. Just cast your mind out into the crowd and lightly touch each one. Think of it as being like gently licking an ice cream,” Dark Star said.
Closing her eyes Splinter focused her will but had to work to project it. Then she remembered a certain sense she’d had when Black Sun had connected with her the night before, showing her how to feed from a distance. Trying again she was successful. Elated by her unexpected success Splinter almost laughed out loud with the pleasure of it, had to work hard to restrain herself so as not to give herself away.
One by one she scanned the hearts of those in front of her until she found one; a portly, middle aged woman, who seemed to be among the most devoted of the worshippers. Extending her mental tentacle she carefully slipped it into her unwitting victim and began to feed.
Splinter gave a start, her eyes snapping open, overwhelmed by the sheer deliciousness of the love she was now greedily sucking down, ravenously devouring it.
“Easy! Back off! Not so fast!” hissed Dark Star in a quiet but firmly warning whisper but it was too late. Overwhelmed by her hunger and the ambrosia-like flavor of the woman’s religious fervor Splinter lost control, sucking out the human’s love in huge gulps, unwittingly taking much of the worshiper’s life force with it.
“Back off! You’ll kill it!” warned Dark Star in a threatening growl but, try as she might, Splinter couldn’t. Like someone lost in the throes of climax there was no hope of control, no hope of pulling back, now.
Just then the human female leapt to her feet and, her face ashen, clutched at her chest. Grimacing in pain she collapsed to the floor, those around her shouting in startled horror.
“Fuck! Now you’ve done it!” Dark Star shouted angrily into Splinter’s mind, startling the changeling out of her feeding frenzy.
Leaping to her feet Dark Star grabbed Splinters arm and raced from the church, dragging a startled splinter behind her.
“What the fuck is wrong with you? I told you to back off or you’d kill it and, now, you probably have!” Dark Star shouted angrily at Splinter after they’d gotten several blocks away.
Splinter trembled, terrified, as the full horror of what she’d done began to sink in.
“I couldn’t stop myself! It was too good and it was like something had taken control of me! I couldn’t help it!” blurted Splinter frantically as she panicked, sweat beading on her forehead.
Spinning on her heel Dark Star grabbed Splinter by the front of her coat and swung her arm in a vicious back-hand striking Splinter full across the face, sending her reeling.
“Fool! You just killed one of our best food animals! Do you have any idea how hard it is to find food sources of that high a quality in a place like this?”
“I’m... I’m sorry!” groaned Splinter as she rubbed the painful bruise on her face.
“If you do that again I will kill you, myself!” roared Dark Star furiously in a ragged pant as she glared at Splinter.
Those few passing humans who witnessed this blandly continued on their way, thinking it to be nothing more than some kind of cat fight.
Grabbing Splinter by the coat Dark Star began dragging her back in the direction of the Hive.
“You’ve had your breakfast, time to get back to shelter,” hissed Dark Star as Splinter, whimpering, struggled weakly to free herself from her companion’s grip.
“Hey! You, there! What are you doing?” came a decidedly commanding shout from Dark Star’s right. Freezing in their tracks, the two changelings turned to see a police officer striding toward them. It took the well experienced Dark Star no more than a second to contrive an effective ruse.
“I’m saving my cousin from making a stupid mistake! I’ll die before I let her do drugs!” shouted Dark Star back at the officer who, surprised, stopped short and stared at them with a puzzled expression. A moment later a smile broke over his face.
“Good for you!” grinned the officer, “it’d be nice if there were more like you around, my job would be a lot easier.” With that he respectfully tipped the bill of his cap to them, turned and headed off.
As if sensing the growing disaster of the day, the skies had grown darker, heavier, as low, pendulous clouds hung over the city threatening rain. As the two changelings reached Charles street the weather broke as the first few snowflakes drifted down, touched lightly upon the pavement and promptly disappeared.
“You do realize Foul will have to be told of this,” grunted Dark Star in angry disgust as she and Splinter continued on toward their Pinckney Street hive.
“What do you think she’ll do to me?” Splinter asked apprehensively.
“It all depends on what kind of mood she’s in when we return but, if I have to make a guess, I’d guess she’ll probably turn you into a Feeder and be done with you,” Dark Star said, cringing at the thought of Splinter’s possible fate.
Feeders, bumbling loose-cannon Changelings who, stripped of their wills by magic, were reduced to things no better than zombie automatons. Forced to spend the rest of their lives slipping out of their hive at night to feed on the unwary, collecting as much love as they could hold, they would return to the hive and give almost all of it to the Queen Mother, nourishing her with what they had worked for. Being left with little more than enough to keep from starving to death, theirs was a brutal hell, not life at all but an endless nightmare from which they could never awaken.
Stopping short, Splinter now stared in horror at her companion.
“No... No! She can’t do that to me! I won’t let her do that to me!” Splinter gasped, trembling, as she began backing away from Dark Star.
“You’ve fucked up enough for one day! Don’t you dare do what I think you’re going to do!” barked Dark Star as she reached out to grab Splinter, to prevent her from running.
Panicked, Splinter lashed out with her magic, stunning a now angrily shouting Dark Star. Bolting, she ran headlong into the street avoiding being hit by racing cars only by fractions of an inch, charging in screaming, mindless horror across the Public Garden, knocking startled pedestrians out of her way.
Dark Star, recovered from Splinters attack, sighed in deep frustration. Now she would be the one to be disciplined for having lost her charge. Trembling with fear, she turned and began walking back to the hive as a terrified Splinter disappeared into the concrete canyons of Boston.
