//------------------------------// // Prologue // Story: Deeply Damaged Dexter // by ItsAllGooood //------------------------------// Prologue Tonight’s the night. And it’s going to happen again and again. Has to happen. Manehattan was a great town. Crowded. Busy. Un-resting. A perfect habitat for a predator like me. But alas, as I walked these streets of my once luscious home, the city of street lights and skyscrapers, I knew it was time for me to leave. Almost... Turning at the corner, I climbed the spiral staircase, and sat at the table closest to the exit. Le cafe Paitre. Nice place. I love the food. Carrot cake. My favourite. But I’m hungry for something else tonight. I set down my saddle bags and picked up the menu as I peered over the top at my prey. Dandy Lion. He was a tricky one to find. The beige coated, yellow maned pony blended in so well. Oh hello... ah yes the order of pink roses, let me just go around the back... yes they’ll look lovely in the front garden, especially as spring rolls in and... oh no secret, just fertile ground, and plenty of love and affection, you have to care of things of such grace a beauty... I’m sorry, I don’t normally do this but, are you free tonight?... “Sir?” “Ah, yes. Carrot cake and a coffee please. Black.” I donned my best smile. “Very good sir.” The waiter left and I continued to glance over the balcony. Dandy Lion sat across the table from slender white creature. Her mane, a flowing brilliance of cherry and scarlet. She even had a cutie mark of an arrow piercing a bright red heart, although I personally found it to be rather corny. But there was no denying she was a superb equine specimen all things considered. And Dandy Lion had wooed her over the course of a single conversation. He was quite the lady killer. *** *** *** They were moving. It was time for me to act. Normally this stage of the ritual was a smooth one-on-one affair. But being that he had company, I had to be inventive. That’s good though. I know it sounds cliché, but I like a challenge. Even more than I liked carrot cake... I finished my last bite, threw a few bits onto the table, and swiftly made my exit. Outside the two were entwined, staring at each other starry-eyed. He was whispering what I could only assume to be his suave repertoire of suggestive remarks, as his play mate was starting to blush deeply, adding more red to her palette. They were starting to walk down the street... ~Now! Do it~ “Excuse me” I called from across the road. The two turned. Best not to be too assertive. Play for sympathy. Sweet. Helpless. “Oh sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt but, I was just wondering if you could help me” I stammered as I tilted my head gently to the side, and lifting the bridge of my brow ever so slightly. “It’s just, I’m having a little trouble with my wagon, and I would really appreciate some assistance”. Miss McBlushes was just staring on with a gently concerned look on her face, while Dandy looked more liked he was slightly annoyed. “... if it’s not too much trouble”, I added, forcing a forced smile. Ironically I had gotten so good at acting normal, that it was actually harder for me to feign social awkwardness. But it must have worked since the filly was starting to trot over the road to me. Dandy Lion reluctantly followed. “Red Rosemary...” he grimaced through his teeth. She looked down at my slanted wagon, and it’s dethatched wheel. “If you could just hold it up while I slide on the wheel, I’d be ever so grateful” I spoke gently, beaming her a timid grin. “Oh, of course we’ll help .” She looked up at her date, who had swiftly swept his feelings of contempt under the rug, and was now sporting an air of kind optimism. “Sure”, he laughed, “wouldn’t want to you stranded on such a chilly night”. He knelt down at the side of the wagon, and slid his fore hooves under the bottom. “Stand back.” Dandy Lion lifted the fallen side, giving a big heave as he did so, no doubt to make the feat seem more impressive to his darling acquaintance. It was however, in vein, as I had just slid an injection of animal tranquillizers into the unsuspecting thing’s neck. She hit the floor next to his hind legs, causing the beige buck to drop the wagon in shock. He spun to face me, only to meet the same fate as his dearly depleted date. The needle pierced his neck, and I slowly started to apply pressure to the plunger. I stared down at him, as his eye lids jittered and jolted in confusion, before he passed out completely. I swiftly lifted up the fallen wagon and slid the wheel back into place. I then proceeded to load my subdued prey into the back. I glanced down at Red Rosemary. ~Bring her along. The more the merrier~ I couldn’t... she didn’t fit the golden rule. ~She’s seen your face. You can’t afford chance this~ ... *** *** *** “Wakey wakey my little pony.” I whispered after dangling some smelling salts under the bound colt’s muzzle, causing him to burst awake. “Whaf!!!... what the fuck?” he blurted out in panic. “What’s going on? Where the fuck am I?!” Typical response. I expected as much. Gripping a medical scalpel in my teeth, I slowly made an incision across his right cheek. He didn’t make it easy. Even fastened down onto a table with copious amounts of duck tape head to toe, he still managed to throttle his head from side to side, making my nice, straight cut turn slightly jagged. That irritated me. But I was still able to catch a drop of his blood on a glass slide. Taking a second slide, I sandwiched the two together, watching the ugly shapeless red blob transform into a perfectly round circle... “HEY!!” my victim’s eyes were locked right on to me, tightly screwed up in sheer unrelenting rage. He was bearing his teeth so strongly that it was causing him to snarl like an aggravated dog, “You better let me go right fucking now you little freak, or you’ll fucking regret it!!” Or was he more like puppy? He was panting heavily, and started to examine his surroundings with his limited view. “Is this...?” I wasn’t surprised that he didn’t notice straight away. The entire room was coated in plastic wrap after all. But there were enough familiar bumps and shapes in the room that he was able to piece it together. “~Yes~” we replied. “Your, little ‘back room’ as it were.” His breathing was getting heavier, but not out of fear. He was just getting angrier. He continued to observe his surroundings. His eyes darted from large red curtain hung across the wall, to a set of muddy spades, to a small table of surgical tools, to a slice of carrot cake, and finally, to us. Us in our leather apron, gardening gloves and up-turned welding mask. He just stared for while, heaving with wrath. “No windows, no vents. Only one exit. It really is the perfect place to take care of business” we chortled, “But I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that”. He gave no response. “I’m curious. Why women? And why always earth-ponies?” we queried, “I noticed quite a bit of variety waltz into your shop, yet you showed no interest.” He spat at us, landing a hit on our apron. “Fuck you! I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, or what kind of crazy shit you’re trying to pull!! Now CUT ME FUCKING LOOSE!!!” We sighed. We were already starting to lose our patience with this one. Not wanting to waste anymore time, we rushed to the other side of the room, and flung the curtains open, revealing the three muddy, semi-decomposed corpses, each of which bore severe bruising around their necks. His eyes widened. “Oh my! What are the chances of bumping into all three of your exes at the same time?” we smiled, “Sorry if I’ve made this entire situation awkward for you.” He snarled. “You fucking psycho!” “Finally! Something we agree on” we laughed, and without missing a beat, we thrust ourselves up to him, muzzle to muzzle, clasping his head between our hooves, “But, you still haven’t answered my question!” He said nothing. “Seducing those women. Having them bend to your every whim. Squeezing the life out of them when they were at their most vulnerable. You must have felt so powerful.” We could feel his sweating become heavier, “Is that why it was only earth-ponies? Because you were afraid that anything that could fly away or levitate a knife into your back was out of your league? That you would realize just how weak and pathetic you really are if you ever even attempted to-” “YES! YES I FUCKING KILLED THEM!!! SO WHAT?! They had nothing to live for so I took them for myself! They were mine! FUCKING MINE!” he resumed his thrashing back and forth. “You really are a pathetic idiot” He spat again. This time in our face. “I’M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU!!!” “No...” we sighed, finally losing our patience with him. “I’m going to kill you.” Not a heart-beat later, we had sliced cleanly through his right ear. It flew through the air, landing on his chest. He stopped moving. His gaze transfixed on his severed ear. All this time, he had been unable to accept the fact that he was powerless, ignoring every indication that his death was imminent. But he couldn’t ignore that. That thing lying in front of him. It was there. It was ‘his’ ear. And at that moment, in his eyes, I could see his world shatter, revealing the terrible truth it concealed. Fear flooded his body, freezing him with it’s cold embrace. “Do you want to know what the stupidest thing about you is?” we whispered into his ear. The one we hadn’t cut off. “You buried them all under your flower beds. And I happen to know for fact that flesh is an extremely poor fertilizer. It compromises the integrity of earth, stunting the growth of any vegetation that might happen to be growing above it.” Dandy Lion, who was now shaking uncontrollably, slowly turned his head to face us. He finally managed to fix us a stare. There it was. In his face. Resignation. Pure Fright. The terror of knowing that he was going to get exactly what he deserved. “So I’m terribly sorry...” we said pulling down our welding mask, “for the awful things I’m about to do to your flowers.” We stuffed a slice of carrot cake into his mouth to muffle the screams of terror that had finally managed to escape his lungs. Finally, we picked up our tools, and got to work on him. *** *** *** For as long as I can remember, I’ve felt empty. Hollow. Like an important part of me was violently scooped out. Over the years I’ve learned how to hide that fact. I smile. I laugh. Try my best to appear normal. And honestly, I think I’m quite good at it. But, by all accounts, it’s merely a parlour trick. There’s no warmth beneath any of my pony mimicry. I can get angry. I can be confused, or frustrated. And in moments of danger, I can even get an exhilarating sense of panic. But joy. Warmth. Connecting with others through love and friendship. These concepts are alien to me. At the very most I’m able to tolerate those around me. It’s only when I let my darkness take control, and through ritual of my hunt that I can truly be myself. My victims, strapped and secured on my table, are the only ones who ever get a glimpse of the real me. In a bizarre way, they’re the closest friends I have. Well, perhaps with the exception of my dark passenger. The other me. I’m not sure how, but it’s thanks to him that that I’m able to find my prey. He had an uncanny ability to sense darkness, and although he could never tell who, what or why, he always knew where. A perceptive Zen that ensures I always find a new feeding grounds for the two of us. And as long as I feed him, I can keep him at bay... I pulled my cart to the top of hill, stopping to examine the large black gate in front mf me. ‘Hayfield Cemetery’. I wasn’t positive that coming here was the best idea, but if my instincts were right, it was the only place I could properly finish my business in Manehattan. I pushed open the gate and started to trot through the columns of gravestones. I was searching for something, and it had to be here. When I saw Red Rosemary in that shop, talking with Dandy Lion, I couldn’t help but notice that she seemed stilted when compared to the other customers. As I walked up and down the stalls, pretending to window shop, I noticed most customers were more cheerful. Flowers brought them joy and delight. But Rosemary, she had something of a dark cloud hanging over her. And when Dandy Lion made a move on her, I didn’t see the playful coyness that usually accompanies such transactions. There was certainly reluctance, but it ran much deeper than I would have expected. Then she made a face that I barley recognised. I had only encountered it scarcely in the past, but she was wearing this feeling on her fore-hoof. Hope. ~There. At the back~ my friend whispered into my ear. I made my way to the very end of column, and on the inside of the last row, I had found them. Fresh pink roses laid out in front. Here lies Ebony Husband. Father. Son. May he rest in peace. And to the left... Here lies Scarlet Tulip Taken from us too soon. Her mummy misses her very much. I pulled Red Rosemary out from the back of my cart, and gently laid her on the ground. This was where she belonged. It was irrational and pointless, but leaving her lying in the streets unconscious... No. This was much better. It had a poetic flare to it. I exited through the gates, and started to make my way through the countryside, away from Manehattan. As I passed through the many apple trees, and blackberry brambles, I couldn’t help but contemplate what I had just done with Red Rosemary. I’m not sure why. There was no chance she could track me down now that I had left. In fact, there was a high chance she wouldn’t even remember meeting me after that special brew of tranquilizers I gave her. I should have no feelings of doubt. And yet, I couldn’t shake that lingering thought in my head. ~You should have killed her~ But I couldn’t. I had standards. Rules. Promises I had made to the only pony who ever truly knew me... *** *** *** I was sitting on a hill top, with my eyes closed, feeling the icy cold air wisp through my mane. Many consider the cold to be discomforting. But personally, I always found it to be soothing. My thoughts were so clear and crystal. For a moment, I felt as if the breeze could just lift me up into the sky. Up and away from all of my sorrows and strife. That feeling ended when I heard the screams of two fillies running right past me. I plummeted back down to earth. There I was again. Just a young colt sitting on a picnic blanket next to Foster, surrounded by other groups of ponies in similar get ups. All of them gathered together to watch the meteor shower. Families huddled together in the cold, eagerly awaiting the show. The two fillies ran past me again, as one tackled the other yelling “Tag!” Oh no. Why was I here? Why had my dear father brought me to such a crowded area just to watch some rocks fall from the sky, when we could see it from our back garden no problem? I just hoped neither of those girls came up to me and asked me to play with them. I wasn’t fond of play ground games on the best of days, but I had a passionate hatred for that especially idiotic game ‘Tag’. The idea of chasing people down was a sound concept in it of itself. Quite appealing even. But it was ‘never’ that simple. No, you can’t tag me, that’s a tag back. Oh no, this high up down low. You can’t get me while I’m up here. And on the off chance you did get someone, they would often burst into tears, proclaiming, I don’t want to be it!!! Ughh, such a stupid, ‘stupid’ game. Just thinking about it was enough to make me want to- “Dexter..?” Foster whisper to me. I looked up. “What’s on your mind son?” I just stared at him for a while, and then looked back down with a sigh of exasperation. “Why did you bring me here dad?” A long poignant pause followed. The night-sky coated pony rustled the back of his violet mane, before he set down his beer can, and started talking. “Son, when I was your age I lived on a farm with my aunt and uncle. There weren’t a lot of other folks around, so I didn’t really have any friends.” Normally I would be annoyed by such a digression, but I knew my father well enough to know that he was going somewhere with this. “All I ever had was Eddie. A German Sheppard. I would feed him, wash him. Walk him every day.” His voice was growing more sombre with every word. “’He was my best friend. Until one day when he didn’t seem to be acting normally... Auntie pulled me aside... telling me not to go near him. Uncle took Eddie behind the shed. I heard a bang... and only uncle came back...” He turned to face me, leaning in closely. “Taking a life is a terrible thing to do.” he said to me solemnly. “But...” he added, “There are some ponies out there that deserve it... some that ‘need’ it. Do you know why I’m telling you this son?” “...No.” I did though. I had suspected he’d know for a while. I had tried to be stealthy, but my capers to Cindy Lou’s chicken coup had yielded some not-so-subtle chirping sounds from our back garden. “I found them Dexter.... beneath the tool shed.” I turned my gaze to the ground, unable to face him. “How long Dexter? How long have you been feeling these... urges?” “...For as long as I can remember... it hasn’t gotten bad until a few weeks ago.” Foster nodded slowly. “And... have you ever wanted to kill something bigger than a chicken?” Pure silence. The families and fields had evaporated away. It was just me and my father, in a quiet little bubble. “...Yes” I confessed. His next question came quicker, this time very stern. “Why haven’t you?” “Because... I didn’t think you’d like it. A voice in my head makes it seem like the right thing to do... no... like a fun thing to do... but I was worried that if I did, you would think I was a monster-” “Dexter...” he sighed, placing a hoof on my shoulder, “You’re not a monster... you’re just... hurt. Something happened to you to make you this way. You don’t remember it, but it damaged you... and it wasn’t your fault.” I kept my head down, “What am I going to do?” Foster leaned in closer. His words were spoken with an air of complete sincerity. “Dexter... like I said. There are some ponies that deserve it. And all we have to do is find them. But until then, you’re going to have to learn how to live with others. To blend in and act normal.” “How?” “Don’t worry Dex. I’ll help you. And together... we can fix this.” I remained still, trying my best to take in the weight of the conversation I had just had. My concentration was interrupted by a gentle tap on my back. It was one of the fillies from earlier. “Do you want to play with us?” she squeaked. I was reluctant, but a hoof-wave from Foster compelled me to oblige. “Um... sure” I said, “I just...er... I don’t want to play tag. I think it’s stupid. But... if you want to play something else... that would be OK.” “Oh, um, OK then” she gleamed, “How abooout... hide and seek? We can play it in the trees over there.” I contemplated. “Sure.” And then to avoid arguments, “I’ll be ‘it’ first.” The two fillies and I were making our way into the woods, when Foster called over to me. “Have fun son,” he said. His tone was very deep and serious. He wasn’t just wishing me well. There was something else in there. Have fun son... or else you’ll look off. Blend in. Be normal... I smiled, or, I tried, and galloped off after my two new ‘friends’ to play. *** *** *** Foster. He always knew just what to say to me to lead me along the right path, even when my dark passenger suggested otherwise. I sometimes wonder what my life would have been like without him. His guidance and love were the only things that kept me tethered to the earth.... Even now, I struggle to abide by his golden rule. The soul pearl of wisdom that made it possible for me to lead a somewhat decent life. Never kill the innocent. And I won’t. Not ever. And while I’m not capable of loving him as a son, I respected him more than anypony else in the world. *** *** *** I had been travelling the whole night, my dark passenger leading me by the reigns. It was time for him to sniff out my next local. And he was getting near. Which was strange, because I seemed to be approaching a small rural town. Which couldn’t be right. All my past dens had been situated in densely populated cityscapes. The type of places where there was enough of an economy to necessitated upper and lower class. This place looked practically Amish. And yet, I could feel it. Darkness radiating from the grounds. So thick and strong that it was actually starting to make my muscles spasm. By the time I had made it to the entrance sign, I was drenched with a cold sweat. I had to get a grip. I just stopped and breathed for a few minutes. Or maybe longer. By the time I had calmed down, dawn had passed and it was already morning. I lifted up my head and read the sign. Welcome to Ponyville This might complicate things somewhat. My usual methods of switching homes relied on the town being booming. It allowed me to go unnoticed in the crowd. I was just another pony, looking for work. The key was to be good, but not too good. Get an internship. Work for a few weeks. Be friendly with the others, but nothing more than that. Then give them the whole second thoughts routine. Thanks for the opportunity, but I just feel this line of work isn’t for me. I’m in and out before anyone even has time to remember me. But a town this small and compact. People were going to notice me. Maybe this was a bad idea. I should just find another place to stay... only I was getting tired. ~Go on. Just a pitt-stop~ Just a short one, I thought to myself. It was crucial that I find a new city as soon as possible. I could go extended periods without feeling the need to... do what I do. But I couldn’t leave anything to chance. Settling into a new place was the trickiest part of my life-style, and I didn’t want to do it while I was deprived. Who knows what I could be capable of when staved off my favourite hobby for too long. I’ll just find some place to stay for the night. I needed directions but it was still fairly early, and not many ponies were about yet. I just needed somepony to talk to. As luck would have it, one was skipping my way. Here we go, I thought. The old friendly traveller routine. I had done this bit a thousand times. A dash of charm, with a pinch of diffidence, and you had yourself a nervous newcomer. She was right in front of me now. “Er, hello,” I stammered. She stopped and starred. “Sorry, my name is Dexter. I was just wondering if-” The pony proceeded to snap into the air rather suddenly, breathing in a huge strenuous gasp as if she had just seen a ghost. Before I could even take in what was happening, she shot off so quickly I ‘swear’ it left my mane blowing in the wind. “OK,” I thought aloud, “that’s never happened before...” -- -- -- Author's note: I'm new at this, but give it to me straight.