> The Other Side
>  by Mirth
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Prologue
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"The Other Side" Prologue

The statue sat on a stone pedestal, surrounded on all sides by other stone figures. The difference between this statue and all the others was that it was not a pony. Instead, it was a horrible, grotesque combination of a slew of various animals. Its most prominent feature was its head; A goat's twisted together with a pony's, horns of different animals, eyes of different sizes, and a long beard. It was screaming in shock, the statue's eyes frozen in horror and surprise. It appeared as if it had once been alive, so real was the expression on its face. The statue sat in darkness, as the moon hanging overhead was obscured by a large pillar. Shadows seemed to play across its stony visage, whatever revolting monstrosity this thing was. The darkness seemed to twist and roil like smoke, moving in a seemingly alive fashion. As the shadows crept over the eyes of the horrified sculpture, a small crack formed in the stone that made up the creature's eyelids. The crack grew, sending small shards of stone skittering into the night. Two red eyes glared from inside their sockets, searching slowly and meticulously for something in the blackness. 

"Finally. I was getting tired of that. But no matter... soon I will be free from this prison those insignificant little mortals made for me." 

This came from a chuckling, low voice inside the statue. The statue's eyes squinted in an angry, venomous glare. The thin red slits narrowed into knifelike edges of crimson light. 

"No more Mr. Nice Discord. All I wanted to do was have a little fun, break a few hearts, and throw the world into chaos! That's nothing! Fuck, that pisses me right off. I was making it rain chocolate milk, goddamnit! What kind of idiot wouldn't want it to rain chocolate... fucking... milk... Mmmm... Too bad I can't drink any right now." 

The eyes opened wider, then blinked as the voice spoke again. 

"Whoops, don't get off track, Me! Wouldn't want someone to hear, would you, Myself! What about you, I, are you done salivating? Do you all want to get us caught? Didn't think so. Now...to set my plan in motion! HEY! Of course Ol' Discord has a plan, Me, Myself and I. We may be the god of chaos, but we're not stupid! What? Of course it involves pain! Yes, suffering too. And death... And agony. Would you shut up and free up some brain power? I'm working on the plan, here. Tick tock, Discord, tick tock." 

The voiced growled darkly to itself before continuing. 

"The boss has a plan, and it's a masterpieeeeeeece! Celestia must be a retard or something, because she thought the Elements of Harmony were the only Elements that existed! Boy was she wrrrrrrong! Bzzzzt. Loser. That's like saying there's life, but no death! Ooh, death again, there will be plenty of that. But first, my ever-patient audience of Me, Myself and I, we must find the bearers of the Elements of Disharmony. And it would seem that none of them are from this world. Aww, fuck it, I think we could use some tourists. So let’s bring them on down already, I'm getting tired of waiting!" 

Arcs of utterly black energy shot out from each of the Discord's eyes. The arcs flashed upwards into the cloudy night sky, disappearing into the blackness.

***

The man screamed; not with fear, not with joy, not with excitement, but with bottomless rage and sorrow. He knelt at the altar of a church, his hands laying on the floor with palms upwards. His spine arched backwards, and his shoulders scraped together, drawn back, as if to bare his chest at the world. His head pointed straight upwards at the ceiling. His face was the worst of all; Bared teeth, a wide open mouth, bloodshot eyes, tear stained cheeks, and a look of unimaginable misery. With a sudden jerk, the man stopped his screaming. He was quite young; he looked to be around eighteen years old, with auburn hair, piercing blue eyes, and pale skin, as if he avoided the sun like the plague. He had a wildly growing beard, and it looked as if he hadn't trimmed it in months. Kneeling there in front of the altar, he began to speak, though he was the only one in the sanctuary. The church's pastor had gone down into the basement, knowing that the man wanted to be alone. 
The man began to speak, in a low, deep, rasping voice, hoarse from screaming. 

"God, what have I done to deserve this?"

he looked up at a statue of Jesus, splayed out on the cross. Jesus' eyes seemed to look right at him, and they would have cried, had they not been made out of metal and colored with paint. 

"My mother was murdered in my own house... and it was my father who killed her... She was so sick, so weak; I don't know how she held on so long... She was in so much pain, so much torment! One part of me is glad she's not alive anymore; she didn't deserve the pain. The other part of me hates what I just said; it would do anything to get her back. Anything." this last word was a growl, like that of an animal. But at the same time, a single tear rolled down his cheek. 

"But you know that's true, you're the master of everything, after all." he barked. 

"You know what I did after that? After she died in my arms? I looked up at my father... that smiling, evil bastard... And then do you know what I did? I looked into his soul, I smiled back, and I stabbed him to death. Over and over again, I stabbed him... He didn't smile after that." the man's mind filled with images; a bloody knife, a woman's broken form, a crying boy, a man's corpse. 

The man remembered how the police came, how they cuffed his hands, how they kicked and pushed, calling him names. He saw his brother, who was three years younger than him; he was crying and he was so pale that his face seemed translucent, as if it was made of plastic. He had fought like animal as the police grabbed him, but as he looked at his brother, he stopped fighting, and he cried. He cried like he had never cried before, his whole body spasming as if an electrical current ran through it. That wasn't far from the truth, as one of the officers had drawn a Taser and fired it into his back. Twitching there on the concrete, the police dragged and threw him into the back of a squad car. He didn't remember much after that, except that he had been released from jail a few days later, after a trial at a nearby courthouse. The verdict was that it was self-defense, and he was sent, with his brother, to live with his aging grandfather and schizophrenic uncle. He couldn't live with himself after his mother's death, and the only thing that stopped him from committing suicide was his brother. His brother was one of the only people he really connected with, aside from his best friend, who had moved far away from where he lived. This led the man to his current situation, kneeling in the church and baring his soul to the heavens. He was not a religious man, per se, and rarely spoke of his faith, but he would die to defend it. Now, it seemed as if he was becoming distant from his god. He still felt extremely passionate about his faith, but a man can only take so much before he breaks. Tonight was one of the few times he felt abandoned, and his mind was struggling to comprehend the past few days. 

As he looked upon his savior on the cross, he began to feel the hairs on the back of his neck prickling, standing on end like a thousand tiny soldiers. He looked at his watch, "2:37 am" it said in electronic text. He turned his head, craning his neck to glance behind him. At first, it was nothing. Then slowly, what looked like ripples started to form in the air. They were black; not the black you see in nature, not the black that you see made by man, but the black which makes up the empty, cold, unending, unloving void of space. The man's eyes shot wide open and he spun around to face the darkness. His heart felt as if it had crawled up into his throat, and his tongue became numb. He tried to scream, but before he could, the blackness opened up before him. As he stared into the impossibly black portal hanging in the air, it stared back, though it had no eyes to do so. With a crackling, buzzing roar, it screamed at him. Tendrils exploded outwards from the portal and snaked and writhed their way forwards, pulling the man into the blackness. Finally, he screamed.

The portal closed behind him as he flew through what could only be described as "indescribable". The tunnel never stayed the same for long. It shifted and twisted in mind-destroying ways. Images were constantly flashing into existence, but were gone before they could be recognized. The man, still screaming, began to increase the volume of his wailing as his clothes and possessions were torn to shreds, exploding into dust as they were ripped from his body. His mind seemed to be trying to hold itself together. It began to fail, insanity being forcefully hammered into his brain as if by some sick carpenter. Just before he lost what was left of his mind, he saw a light, literally ‘at the end of the tunnel’. The light seemed brighter than anything he had seen before, but it was quickly clear that he was nearing whatever mind-bending, impossible, nightmare inducing destination that waited at the end of the tunnel.

The first thing that was seen by the man was trees. He was above them. This shocking fact started his screaming anew. By that time, the screaming had reduced his voice to a low, painful, gravelly sound. 

"Oh, fuck! Shit, shit, shit!" was the only thing he was able to say before he crashed into the forest canopy. 

He fell facedown, his arms flailing in the air against the momentum of his rapid descent. He slammed into a branch, which hit the front of his legs, flipping him forwards. He heard and felt the wet, meaty thump as he impacted with the hard wood. Tumbling forwards, his vision blurred, and nausea overcame him. He crashed down on his back, landing on another branch before rolling off with a yelp of pain. He managed to grasp a tree limb before he could fully impact with the ground. The bark dug into his hand, and he felt the skin being ripped off in deep furrows. He almost dislocated his shoulder by grabbing the branch with one hand at such speed, but luckily, it snapped partway, making his stop less sudden. With an unceremonious crack, it gave way, and he fell to the ground, which was fortunately only around a dozen feet away. He vomited violently when he finally crashed into the hard-packed dirt. He sat there gasping there on the hard-packed ground for a few moments.

"Where... the... hell... am I?" he said to no one, between puking his insides out and cringing in pain. It wasn’t ‘no one’ who glared at him with hungry, evil eyes...

AUTHOR'S NOTE
Well, this is my first MLP FIM fiction, and I decided to go in a different direction than most stories I see based in MLP FIM. Derp. Give me some feedback, I would LOVE some input on my writing. (P.S. All of this is written on iPod touch 2nd-gen, then edited on my PC before submission. Hope you enjoyed the prologue.)


> Chapter 1- New Arrival
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"The Other Side" Chapter 1- New Arrival

Following his last statement was a roar; a reverberating, bone-shaking sound similar to that of a lion. He froze, fear squeezing his heart in an icy grip. He scrambled to his feet as his adrenaline kicked into overdrive. He turned, and was greeted with the most horrifying thing he had witnessed in the last ten seconds; a charging manticore.

The man calmly reacted in the following manner, "Fuckwhatthetitsgetthefuckawayfrommeyoudamnfreakofnature!" with all the muscle power he could muster, he ran in the opposite direction of the hungry, angry, massive, bloodthirsty carnivore barreling towards him. His bare feet kicked up clouds of dirt as he weaved between densely-packed trees. He could hear the flapping of wings behind him. Shit! It can fly?! He thought that as he vaulted over a cluster of roots that had blocked his path. The man's rapid and ragged breathing was drowned out by another furious roar which shook the forest violently. He ran in no particular manner, simply seeking to get as far away as possible from his pursuer. 

The forest seemed to stretch on forever in all directions, and the canopy seemed to block out most of the light streaming down from the sun. In an alien, unknown world, the only option the man thought prudent was to run. Run, and run, and run until that he made it out of the forest. There was nothing but death behind him; Roaring, thrashing, clawing death. The thought of stopping never crossed his mind, until he heard something even more chilling and terrifying than the thing trying to eat him alive; A scream... A female scream.

All the fear seemed to melt away, and what replaced it was a burning, seething rage. He wheeled to face the thing, and saw that it had a small form pinned underneath its claws. With a roar of his own, he ran directly towards the giant, scorpion-tailed, winged manticore. His feet pounded the dirt as he ran, his legs trying to keep up with the force of his rage. Naked, unarmed, bruised and battered, he charged the monster, all because of the simple fact that the life of someone other than himself was at stake. A wordless snarl seemed to rip itself out of his throat as he charged at the thing head-on. 

He brought his fist hammering into the thing's face with enough force to punch through concrete. Apparently manticores are tougher than concrete. It stumbled backwards, but pressed turned to its attacker, swinging a mass of jagged claws at the man's face. It was utterly intent to tear his head from his shoulders.
He ducked under the vicious knifelike blades aimed at his skull and responded by throwing a hook punch at the side of its feline face. A hearty thump sounded out as his fist connected with the manticore's temple. The manticore was frothing with anger now, flailing wildly at him. The man was even more enraged, almost to the point of mindlessness; the manticore was fighting for food, and the man for an innocent life. 
If there was one thing he hated more than anything else, it was someone or something that would take advantage of something weaker than itself. Even as claws raked across his bare skin, his pain was ignored due to the righteous furor burning in his mind. Quickly realizing that he needed a weapon, he struck out with a kick to the manticore's chin. Normally, the man would have worn heavy boots, but his rage was more than enough to put vicious force into his attack. It swayed from side to side for a moment as the man scurried in the dirt looking for a weapon. Anything would do, as fists and feet were only so effective against something the size of what he was fighting. He saw what he was looking for; A rock around the size of a baseball. It sat lodged in the soil at the base of a large tree, half covered in earth. He quickly snatched it up and turned back to his opponent, who whipped its tail forwards at the man with a snap. The sound of the tail being stabbed towards him sounded almost exactly like a whipcrack. The man couldn't move fast enough to dodge the spear of coal colored carapace. 

The black barb of chitin speared into his flesh, red blood seeping out of the wound as if it was crying tears. The man grunted in pain, feeling the sharp point digging into the flesh and muscle of his abdomen. With a victorious roar, the manticore raised his head and prepared to close its many-toothed jaws upon its prey. Although the poison coursed virulently through his veins, the man fought on even harder than before, grabbing the manticore's tail, still jutting out of the wound in his guts. Shrieking an animalistic war cry, he raised his arm high above his head, and then brought the stone slamming to a halt down on the scorpion-like tail with a hollow crunching noise. Greenish yellow ichor dripped from the broken segments of chitin, staining the ground with their foul color and stench. As the manticore wailed in pain at its now broken tail, the man swung the stone again, this time sending it crashing downwards into its blunt-faced skull. He repeated this many multiple times in quick succession, shattering its left eye socket. The crunch of bone resounded in the air. Blood sprayed out of the rupture in the manticore's face, coating the human's visage in dark red blood. He looked even more terrifying than the fifteen-foot monster in front of him; His eyes were bloodshot and filled with a feral light; his jaws opened wide, a bellow of savagery passing between his lips. With a final roar, the manticore's life was ended as its own tail spike was brutally rammed through its remaining eye and into its brain. It collapsed with a heavy thump. Its eye- pierced by its own weapon- was leaking red liquid and pink sludge like a broken faucet. 

The ground now looked like the floor of a slaughterhouse, so slick with blood it was. The human breathed once before his knees gave out, the exhaustion, pain, shock and deadly poison flooding through his body like a tsunami. He simply landed face first in the dirt, falling to the earth like a discarded ragdoll. His eyes drooped slowly shut as he lay there. He faintly noticed a pink and yellow blur moving slowly towards him before he sunk into unconsciousness, then all turned to black. As the man slumped into the muck, a dark, demonic mind thought out a single sentence: Great, the thing has a fucking conscience... but at least he gave a great demonstration of his... talents... The mind let out a laugh of pleasure and triumph before it grew still once more.

The man awoke, his eyes cracking open slowly. He noticed rather abruptly that the whole of his body felt like it was on fire. His insides felt as if they were melting under his skin. He suppressed a scream of agony, shuddering violently and jerking upwards instead. He had never felt this much pain before. Frantically, he looked around. He was in a small, clean room. The acidic smell of the room led him to believe it had been wiped down with cleaning alcohol, which immediately made him think of a hospital. This seemed correct, as there was a gurney with a polished metal tray resting on it next to his bed. On the tray was a pair of forceps, a scalpel, scissors, a syringe filled with a murky blue liquid, along with various other pieces of medical equipment. Further taking in his surroundings, he noticed that the room had a window. The window's curtains were partway drawn, letting in a small sliver of bright yellow sunlight. Taking a moment to look through the window, he could tell that he was above ground level, which made stronger his assumptions that this was indeed, a hospital. He pushed his arms down on the bed, swinging his legs to the side. He eased his feet slowly to the floor, touching them down on the linoleum. Definitely a hospital, his mind thought through the pain. He noticed that he was covered in bandages, where he had either been clawed at or impaled by the manticore, or where branches had whipped his sensitive flesh. As he stood up, he heard the sound of muffled voices. 

"He's... bad... poison should... killed... quickly... have to act fast... critical... end his suffering..." the voice was muffled, and he could only pick out small snatches of words, but it was definitely male. The words sent him into shock, bringing nausea rocketing up from the depths of his stomach. A voice in his head seemed to scream: Run! He's going to kill you! Get away! 

The voice was not his, but he was too terrified to notice, and he probably wouldn't have cared if he did. His vision shot around the room, looking for a plan of escape. He noticed that door appeared to open inwardly, as the hinges were on the inside of the room. Hurriedly, he moved the bed, wedging it between the door and the wall. The bed's metal legs scraped and whined as he moved it into place. The scraping noise was followed by a series of loud bumps as he shoved the bed roughly into position. 

"What was that?" a mid-pitched female voice said. 

"I Dunno, Twi', sounded like it came from his room." replied a drawling, lower-pitched female voice. 

"Doctor, we should see what's going on in there, don't you think?" this time, a refined, mid-Atlantic female voice spoke. 

"Hey, is he awake? Is he, is he, is he?! I can't wait to give him his present; I worked so hard on it! I just can't wait, the tension's killing me!" said a high-pitched, energetic voice, also female. 

He heard the handle of the door being turned, and the thump of the bed hitting the wall. 

"Hey! The bucking door is stuck! Doc, help me!” this time, a raspy, tomboyish voice, frustrated and angry. 

"I hope he's not too uncomfortable... I really want to stop his pain..." said a quiet, delicate female voice.

After he had used the bed to block the door, the man had bolted to the window and looked down. What he saw was the ground, but, as he expected, he was on the second floor. At the base of the building were a thick cluster of bushes. In the distance, he could see a town, made up of buildings with thatched roofs. After looking out the window, he looked at his hands and feet, quickly realizing he was still completely naked, save his bandages. He grabbed hold of the curtains and pulled vigorously. The fabric ripped easily. He covered his hands and feet in parts of the curtains after tearing them to pieces. 

"He's destroying the curtains!" screamed the mid-Atlantic voice. 

"Open... the... door!" yelled the male voice, between the thumping noises of bodies crashing into the makeshift barricade the man had made. He was breathing like a jackrabbit, short machine-gun breaths escaping his lips every second. Seizing the gurney with both hands, he dumped the tray and tools to the floor with a clatter. 

"My tools! He's destroying the hospital! No! No! No! No! NO! Get this door open!" the voice was practically in a rage. 

Readjusting his grip on the metal trolley, the man bent his legs, braced and watched the window, his breathing slowing down. He closed his eyes, then opened them and looked back just in time to see a group of garishly colored ponies with gigantic eyes burst into the room. 

"Get him!" the tomboy voice, coming from a blue, rainbow-maned winged pony, screamed. The man screamed back in unimaginable horror at the talking animals now trying to get at him. He ran at top speed towards the window, throwing the trolley through the air. The sound of shattering glass drowned out all the other noise as he leaped out of the open window. 

> Chapter 2- Running Like Hell
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“The Other Side” Chapter 2- Running Like Hell.

Shards of falling glass shone in the afternoon sun, spinning in graceful arcs. The man's fall was less than graceful; after leaping feet first out a window 20 feet off of the ground, he twisted awkwardly in the air, trying to shield his face from falling glass. He plummeted to the ground within seconds, missing the metal gurney by half a foot. The bushes he had aimed for acted as a natural cushion, softening a bone-breaking fall into simply a bruising one. That did not mean that it was painless. It was far from it. He landed directly on the stinger-wound to his abdomen. In his own words, mentally of course, as the time for verbalization was long gone: Fuck! Scrotum-faced, shit-stained cockmonkey in a pile of bloody assrags! 

As is evident, he had quite a vocabulary, particularly for curses. Keep running! Don't stop! a voice in his head spoke, but he assumed it was just his mind urging him forward. After all, who didn't get a little crazy in stressful situations? He bolted out of the shrubbery, arms pumping wildly as he made his way towards the town at breakneck speed. The curtains wrapping his feet and hands protected him from the jagged glass littering the ground. It would have been a hilarious sight if the man hadn't been running for his life. The sight in question was a hairy, naked, pale young man in bandages running from a group of talking equines, all the while having a cool breeze blowing in his direction. He felt cold, and it showed... awkwardly... but he ran nonetheless. He would've probably had an easier time escaping, had the rainbow-maned pegasus close behind him lost her wings. Unfortunately, or fortunately- whichever you prefer- she had not, and dove out of the window a few seconds later. He was about halfway over a waist-high stone wall when she caught up to him. 

"C'mere you... thing! You're not getting away that easi-!" She was in mid-sentence when she received a healthy, delicious and nutritious knuckle sandwich. 

"Cud!" she spat, holding her snout as he jumped the wall and began sprinting again. The pleasant sunny afternoon was a perfect day for a stroll, but in the young man's brain, it went more like this: Talking fucking midget horses are trying to kill me, I'm naked, everything burns, it's fucking cold outside, I don't know what damn universe I'm in, I'm so hungry I could (Ironically) eat a horse, I need to piss, I'm probably going to die today, and I just pissed the- damn it, need to go even worse now- shit outta that thing I just punched. Oh, and I'm going insane!

"And your thingy is showing!" said the energetic voice from before, out of nowhere. The young man's mind responded in the most rational way possible: THE FUCK?! 

He didn't stop to think about the statement, instead, he ran even faster towards apparent safety.

The townsponies were going about their business for the day, when suddenly, they heard a voice yelling in the distance. 
"Help! I'm being attacked by mutant horses! Help me! Help me! Get away from me you abomination!" looking up from their work, ponies on the street turned towards the sound, quizzical looks etched on their faces. The source of the yelling became immediately obvious when a naked, six-foot, crazed and extremely loud human male came into view. On his heels were a rainbow-maned pegasus, a pink earth pony with wildly fluffy hair, and five others, who were struggling to keep up. The man didn't pay any attention to what was going on in front of him, as he was busy waving his arms in the air and screaming pleas of assistance. A large number of the ponies on the street gasped, their jaws dropping wide open. One large red work horse with an orangish-red mane simply nodded. 

"Eeeyup." 

By this time, the man had arrived on the street and continued to yell. 

"Help! Get these things away from me!" The man yelled at the top of his lungs. A young filly screamed, then blurted out, 

"What the hay is that!?" The young redhead looked down at where the voice had come from, then immediately let loose an even louder cry of terror. "Aaah! Holy flippin' asscrackers!" 

Seeing that the entire street was filled with talking ponies, he darted down an alley, continuing to run like a madman. Surprisingly, the alley was very clean and virtually devoid of trash. He was a city dweller, and lived in a rather dirty one at that, so the sight of clean back alleys unnerved him. The slapping sound of his feet slapping cobblestone, his ragged breathing and the clipping of hooves on stone were all he heard as he ran, his mind focused on three little words. Run like hell.

"Gotcha!" that was what the rainbow maned pegasus grunted as she tackled him from behind. 

Blue eyes - that's what we'll call him until we find something more suitable- had played football as a linebacker for a season, and most six and a half foot, 250 pound meatheads didn't hit that hard. He exhaled sharply as the air was forced instantly from his lungs. She had rammed into him directly between the shoulder-blades. This caused him to stumble forwards and lose his footing.  He fell and landed face first, getting a good taste of the slightly dusty ground. He also tasted the metallic flavor of blood as he bit his tongue. They rolled over each other in a flurry of limbs, each trying to wrestle for control. She ended up getting her rear legs around his chest and grinned with triumph. She 
swung a cyan-colored hoof at his face, which sent his vision spinning as the blow connected. On instinct, he began to jostle around underneath his equine attacker, causing her to frown in confusion. 

His strategy was apparent when he rolled his shoulders, along with his lower body, so that his legs stuck upwards into the air. He pulled his legs towards his chest, wrapping them around the head of the still-confused pegasus before she could punch him again. He pushed his legs back down, prying her off of him. As soon as Blue Eyes escaped the hold of his opponent, he rolled backwards and turned sideways, stumbling up into a rather angry looking orange mare in a cowboy hat. He was greeted by a swift kick to the jewels. If you're not a male, you do NOT know the feeling. In excruciating pain, he fell drunkenly against the wall of the alley, holding his newest injury with one hand and groaning uncontrollably. His groans were from a dry, hoarse throat, exhausted from screaming. 

"Sorry sugar, had to be done. We can't have ya' causin' any more trouble." she drawled. 

"F-fuck... just be glad you're not male, or I'd be sending yours straight to the top of your skull right now." 

"Don't you be threatenin' me, I don't like makin' this any harder than it is!" 

"Yeah? My ass! That coming from the crazy goddamn mutant horse trying to put me down!" 

"Hay, we're ponies, you get it right before I feed you some more hooves!" said the feisty pegasus. 

"You try it and you'll be picking up teeth, ya' frickin' hippie!" 

"Hippie! Grr, lemme' at him!" 

"Calm down RD, he's okay now. Now what the buck is this talk bout' bein' 'put down'?" 

"I heard you all talkin’ about it in the hospital, 'End his suffering' 'the tension's killing me' 'stop the pain' and all that! Don't fucking lie ta' me!" 

"I hate lyin', trust me Tatercakes. We weren't tryin' to hurt ya." 

"'Tatercakes'? When the frick has anyone from the south called someone else 'Tatercakes'?!" 

"'The south'? South of what?" 'RD' chimed in. 

"No time fer' that, sugarcube. Just calm down, hon'." 

"Fine, I'm calm." he growled the words but truthfully meant them nonetheless. 

"What's yer' name?" 

Blue Eyes leaned against the wall a little less, standing straighter and looking down from underneath his eyebrows. 

"My name's-" he cleared his throat and held a hand to his gut as the pain from his stinger wound resurfaced. He shook his head in defiance of the pain, and then grunted out "Dylan... My name is Dylan MacLauchlan... and yours?" 

"I'm Applejack, and my slightly angry friend over there-" Applejack motioned with a hoof to the pegasus "- Is Rainbow Dash, Ponyville's fastest flyer." 

"Darn straight!" Rainbow Dash puffed out her chest, stretching her wings boastingly. 

"So, I guess this means you're not trying to kill me? I don't know about this yet, give me a few minut-" Dylan was interrupted by a once-timid yellow pegasus with a pink mane, who had just arrived in the alleyway. Needless to say, she was not timid at the moment. 

"You've been a bad, bad thing! Now sit still so we can have a nice lunch!" The yellow pegasus stared right into Dylan's eyes with such force that she could have used her gaze as a battering ram. Dylan sat frozen in her gaze for a few moments. Applejack and Rainbow Dash looked relieved, looking from the newly arrived pegasus to Dylan. 

"Phew, good. Nopony can resist one of Fluttershy's stares." Rainbow Dash commented, shuddering as she remembered a time when she too had been stared down by Fluttershy. Suddenly, all hell broke loose, Dylan's look of horror returning with a vengeance as he screamed and ran down the alley shouting 

"She's gonna eat me! She's gonna EAT MEEEE!!!!!" 

All three of the ponies' jaws dropped, their eyebrows shooting upwards at the same time. 

"I love The Lion King!" the energetic pink pony shouted as she bounced into the alley. 

"The what now? Never mind, Pinkie Pie..." said the lavender colored unicorn following closely behind Pinkie Pie. 

"What?! You don't have cable, Twilight? That's too bad. Oink, oink!" 

Pinkie Pie had now put on a red warthog mask, and was continuing to bounce. A white unicorn with a clean and brushed indigo mane trotted up behind Twilight. 

"Don't think too much about it, Twilight, we've got to hurry up and catch him. I'm completely covered in sweat! My mane is going to frizz up!" 

"Um... I-I-I'm sorry everypony, b-but I think I...-" Fluttershy's voice lowered to a whisper, "-s-scared him off... I thought the Stare would work..." She pawed at the ground with one hoof, looking sheepish and blushing deep red. 

"It's okay, honeydew; we all thought it would work. But please think of some different words to say before you try that again." 

"Uh, yeah, what AJ said." said Rainbow dash, chuckling to herself. "Grr! Ponies, Equestria's most vicious  carnivores!" they all giggled at that, but Pinkie Pie almost doubled over in laughter, which would have made for unpleasant landing, as she was currently in midair. 

A pony in a doctor's coat panted and wheezed as he stumbled into the alley. "Sorry... but girls, aren't you...forgetting somepony? He's... getting away again." 

After several minutes of chasing, everypony- including Dylan, but excluding Pinkie Pie -collapsed, exhaustion present on everyone's faces except for the inexhaustible Pinkie Pie, who was ecstatic. 

"Guh... S-so... you're not trying to eat and/or kill me?" 

"Ponies are vegetarians. Duh!" Pinkie Pie said matter-of-factly. "I'vegotapresentforyouanditssoawesomethatIcan'tholditinanylonger! I've just got to-" she took in a deep breath, her chest and cheeks expanding to an impossible size to take in the massive gulp of air. 

"Oh no! Everypony cover your ears!" Twilight said quickly. 

"Why?" Dylan said, scratching his head quizzically. Everyone else had covered their ears. 

"SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAM!!!" Pinkie's scream was deafening. 

"Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckgoosefuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfiretruckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckcanteloupesfuckfuckfuck! Ow, that hurt..." A messily wrapped pink box with a red bow landed squarely in Dylan's lap. Dylan's ears were ringing so hard he almost vomited.  He held up a hand to one of his bleeding eardrums. "This is for me?" Dylan groaned. Pinkie Pie nodded in assent, her smile widening until it stretched from ear to ear. Dylan slowly unwrapped the box, tenderly massaging his ear while he pulled the ribbons off. Inside was a large chocolate cake with white icing. There was a sentence written on it in blue and red icing: Thank you for saving Fluttershy! "You're... giving me this after I demolished a hospital room, ran halfway across town naked, and punched one of your friends in the face... Who the hell are you people?" Dylan scratched the side of his head, perplexed at their kindness. 

"Well, you saved Fluttershy's life, and she sort of returned the favor..." Twilight Sparkle said. At this, Fluttershy's cheeks burned an even deeper shade of red. Dylan reddened slightly himself, tilting his head as his curiosity was piqued. 

"How'd she do that?" 

Fluttershy had now turned as red as she could possibly go, and crossed her forelegs. "Um, I... well I just... uhm..." the yellow pegasus looked as if her head was about to explode. Twilight Sparkle spoke up after Fluttershy's failed attempt at speech. 

"What she was going to tell you was that she carried you all the way back to her house on the edge of the forest, which was at least three miles away... on a broken leg. When she got to her house, she almost bucking killed herself trying to stop the manticore's poison. She never left your side, even when we got Big Macintosh to pull you in a cart up to the hospital. She was frantic, especially when the doctor gave his prognosis." After this, the doctor piped up. 

"By all rights, the amount of punishment you took should have killed you five times over, especially the poison; the manticore's venom can take down a fully grown grizzly bear within seconds." 

Dylan's complexion took on an almost porcelain hue as he soaked in this information. Beads of sweat were falling off of him every second, splitting into shimmering droplets of moisture when they touched the ground. He shook violently; he jerked and twitched, sickly groans coming from deep in his throat. 

"T-then... how am I... still... alive..." With this last word, Dylan breathed deeply, fell backwards and was sent hurtling into unconsciousness once more. 

AUTHOR'S NOTE
I would really appreciate it if you guys DIDN'T GET ANY LESS AWESOME! Keep sending in comments, ratings, and if you feel like it, SPREAD THA WORD MAH BRETHREN! Next chappie's gonna have a drrrrream sequence! See you guys later. *Activating Sunglasses at Night*

> Chapter 3- Introductions of a Darker Kind
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"The Other Side" Chapter 3- Introductions of a Darker Kind

Utter blackness, then a voice, 

"Rise and shine, boy. We've got some talking to do. I did just save your life, after all." 

The voice was very masculine, possessing an aura of dark humor and traces of an incredible intelligence. Darkness seemed to roll of of it like a fog, roiling with each word he spoke. It laughed quietly, a sharp mocking bark that shook the soul. Dylan cringed at the unexpected sound, his heart pounding like a drum. He didn't remember how he arrived in the darkness. He didn't remember standing up either, but his feet were both placed firmly on the ground.

He heard the sharp tapping of metal on stone from behind him. He spun around with anger in his eyes, 

"I am no boy! Who are you and what do you want with me, you bastard?"

He could almost hear a smile, such was the sense of sick amusement radiating off of the voice.

"All right, Dylan. First things first-"

The crack of metal smashing bone sounded out as Dylan's kneecap shattered. He screamed, dropping to the ground with a look of pure agony on his face. 

"Do not... disrespect me. I saved your life, therefore, you shall address me as "Master", or "My Lord" or there shall be... repercussions." 

"Fuck. You." 

Dylan growled from the ground, trying to stand up and charge his attacker. He fell down again as something long and metal bashed in his teeth. The sick crunching noise of teeth breaking reverberated inside his head. 
Splinters of white littered the ground around Dylan. He sucked in sharply, breathing in cold and stale smoke-filled air. He kneeled there for a few seconds, holding his face in his hands. The blackness lit up with a deep blood red glow, the light illuminating the room. The room was simply a giant stone chamber with a rounded roof, and no doors or windows. The light also brought a figure into focus. 

It was a man, around seven feet tall, very thin, and wearing a fine black three-piece suit with a tie. The tie was the same bloody crimson as the light, and he wore a white shirt underneath the suit. The suit had red cuffs, and a golden badge was pinned to the left breast. The badge had on it of a dying red sun and a shattered black moon. He was also wearing an ornate belt, on which was a giant golden eye. He carried a long steel cane in his hands. It was spattered red with blood, although everything seemed bloody because of the light. A golden snake seemed to twist around the cane, impossibly alive and hissing. At its tip was a small obsidian goat's skull with horns. The skull's empty eye sockets appeared to be emitting the disturbing light. The man's head was completely shaven, except for a thick white beard, which he was now stroking. His features were very angular, like those of a bird of prey, and the look his red eyes were giving looked as if it could burn smoking holes in whatever they turned their attention to. His wickedly sharp teeth were bared in a mirthless smile, and he licked one of his canines with his tongue eagerly. 

"You are incredibly stubborn, aren't you, Dylan? Got that from your mother, did you? She was a tough one, but she died screaming anyway. It was hilarious." 

"RRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!" 

Dylan was an animal; the man talking about his mother like that put to death what little he had left of his self control. He swung his fist faster and more powerfully than he had ever before in his life. He drove it right into the center of the man's evilly grinning face. The man's head literally exploded into a thousand pieces with a disgusting splattering noise. Brain matter, eyeballs, bits of skull and spine along with a torrent of blood covered the stone floor. The man's corpse stood there, still standing. It began to shake, blood spurting out of the arteries in his neck and falling to the ground with a foul splattering sound. 

Dylan panted and snarled with rage, and if there had been someone to see him, they would have noticed something horribly disturbing;
Dylan's entire body was literally on fire, his teeth had lengthened into vicious- but still broken -fangs, and his hair had grown to a wild length. His face had elongated, and vicious black claws had grown out of his fingers and toes. He exuded an aura of bottomless, burning anger so fierce his body felt as if it would rip itself apart. He stood there, breathing out puffs of smoke, a bestial intelligence now controlling his mind. His thoughts were still his, but they were  unrecognizable feral things, and they seemed to focus entirely on one thing: Rage. The Dylan-Thing howled a bloodcurdling war cry into the air, shaking  violently with the lust of death. 

It somehow realized that a sound had been nagging at the back of its awareness: Laughing. The laughing was coming from the open, broken throat of the bald man's corpse. With a sick fizzling sound, every piece of the man's head slowly drifted back into place. It reformed perfectly with a burning hiss, coming back together without a trace of damage; not one drop of blood remained on the floor of the chamber. He smiled. The man's smile was completely demonic, and his teeth were now serrated fangs. 

"Good! That's exactly what I wanted to see. Show me your rage, Dylan, show the WORLD!" 

The man's laugh was demonic now too, echoing in upon itself. He raised his cane and pointed it at Dylan. A wave of black energy pulsated out, repairing Dylan's damaged body. 

"WHAT... IS...THIS...POWER?!" 

The Dylan-Thing was looking at its hands, growling excitedly. The man looked completely pleased, his eyebrows moving close together in a look of fulfilled expectation. His smile stretched as far as it could possibly go. 

"It was in you all along, I just brought it out so you could use it. You've seen for yourself how strong you are. But you'd do well not to forget who is the more powerful of the two of us. Now... tell me, what is my name?" 

The Dylan-Thing raised its burning red eyes to the man's face, the skin of its mouth drawing back away from its predatory teeth in its own hellish grin. 

"MASTER." The rough barking word seemed to crawl up from the depths of the Dylan-Thing's throat.

The bald man quaked in a fit of body-shaking laughter, raising his head to look at the ceiling. 

"Good. You must learn to use your power well." He looked back down at the bestial form before him. "When you are ready, I will speak with you again." 

The Dylan-Thing nodded, looking down once again at his fiercely burning hands. With a look  of complete satisfaction, the man walked a single step toward what had once been Dylan. 

"One last thing before you wake..." the man leaned close to the Dylan-Thing, and whispered into his ear with the darkest of tones.

"Have some fun..." 

The Dylan-Thing roared at the ceiling, shaking his fists in approval and opening his maw wide as fire seemed to course through his very soul.
The blackness, the man, and the room all disappeared in a flash of white light.

***

Dylan awoke with a start, and realized that he had forgotten whatever nightmare he had just experienced. He kicked away the covers of the bed he was laying in, then looked down at his body. What he saw chilled him to the core; There was not one scar, not one injury, not even one bruise upon his entire body. As a matter of fact, he felt better than he had in years. It scared him, as he did not have any explanation for the complete healing of his body.

He leapt out of bed, then realized that a rather sorrowful-looking Fluttershy was sitting next to his bed, along with a grim-faced Applejack and a flat-haired Pinkie Pie. The other three ponies he had seen were not in the room, but he could hear their voices outside. Pinkie Pie gasped with joy as she saw Dylan get up out if bed. Her mane inflated immediately and she started talking at almost the same time. 

"You're OK! You're... really OK... Uhhh..." 

"What the /buck/?" Applejack blurted. 

"Oh! My goodness..." Fluttershy looked completely surprised, and her usual blush took effect. 

"What, are you all looking at? Is it my giant- Oh... yeah... I don't know shit about that either." 

Fluttershy now looked like a beet, Applejack was slack-jawed, and Pinkie Pie was bouncing like a jackhammer, 

"Heyweshouldhaveagiantpartywithballoonsandcakeandsomepantsforyoubecauseyou'renakedyousillysillythinganditlooksrealkyfunny!" 

Dylan looked like he was about to piss himself laughing. He thought not wrecking another hospital room was a better idea. 

"Yeah, I'd love some pants. Who's the top crotch-covering specialist here in... where the fuck am I again?" 

Applejack looked at Dylan with a surprised look on her face. 

"Ponyville... How the buck are all yer' injuries gone?" 

Applejack's eyes were still wide, but she had closed her jaw. Fluttershy was trying to look in the opposite direction, attempting to hide behind a cart with trays of food on it. She continued to blush, and Dylan was beginning to think that she would remain in a perpetual state of embarrassment. Pinkie Pie was, well... Pinkie Pie. 

Dylan looked at Fluttershy.

"Is she always this shy? I mean, it's just a pe-" 

Pinkie Pie interrupted him before he could finish his sentence. 

"You need to eat, you're probably starving!" 

"Yeah, actually, I'm so hungry I could eat a hor-" At that, all three ponies looked horrified, 

"Uh... h-horkin' big sandwich! Yeah..." Dylan grinned, and he blushed a tiny bit. 

Shit. Shit. Shit.. Well, at least I got even, what with the yellow one sounding like she wanted to eat me and all... 

"Oh. Phew, I thought you were going to say hors-" Pinkie's mouth was clamped shut by Applejack, who pressed a hoof to her friend's lips. 

"Excuse us fer' a minute, sugar." 

Applejack opened the room's door and dragged Pinkie Pie outside. Pinkie pie had an annoyed look on her face and she was trying to talk, but all that was audible was a muffled whining. Dylan turned to Fluttershy, but she flew out the door with such speed that it shut closed behind her with a slam. 

"Oh. Hey, a sandwich!" Dylan said as he picked up the aforementioned food before taking a bite. 

He immediately wished he hadn't. 

"Is this fucking straw/?! Are you all trying to kill me all over again?!" Dylan yelled, then sighed as he sat down on the bed. 

Worst. Sandwich. Ever.

After some poking and prodding- not literal, of course- Dylan explained his diet, which normally would have included meat, but, understandably, ponies did not hunt or raise animals for meat. They were nervous around him for a while after that, but they brought him a plate of fried potatoes, an egg salad sandwich, and a mug of apple cider. 

"Made from the best darn apples in all a' Equestria, right here in Ponyville. Ah' work at Sweet Apple Acres, where they're grown." 

Dylan sipped at his glass of homemade apple cider. He looked up at Applejack and said "I don't know about the best apple cider in Equestria, but it's the best apple cider I've ever tasted." 

Applejack smiled warmly, then blushed. "Uh, sorry about, uh... kicking you in the tenders... I hope you're... OK down there?" 

"I'm not... too bad..." He shrugged awkwardly. "Wasn't planning on making any babies any time soon, and there's not a human in sight, anyways. But if you do that again, I will shove your damn cowboy hat down your throat." 

Applejack gulped, then laughed nervously. "I don't doubt it..." 

"So, what are you exactly?" Twilight Sparkle asked, a quill and paper floating in the air just in front of her. Both were surrounded by a purplish glow. 

"Holy crap! Why are those things fucking floating?" Dylan looked completely shocked, despite speaking to TALKING PONIES.

"Oh, it's just magic." Twilight stated nonchalantly. 

"Magic! Remind me not to... burn you all for witchcraft..." those last five words were whispered to himself, but he didn't really mean them. 

"Just... don't turn me into a frog or shit like that. Anyways, I'm a human. You know, homo sapien; man; earthling; damn dirty human?" 

"You Maniacs! You burned it all down!" 

Once again, Dylan looked shocked and confused as pinkie pie said something inexplicable for the third time since he had arrived. 

"How does she-" 

"Don't ask, darling, that's just Pinkie's way." said Rarity, rolling her eyes. 

Twilight coughed, trying to catch Dylan's attention again. 

"Anything interesting we should know about humans?" 

Dylan looked thoughtful for a moment, running his hands through his beard. 

"Uh. We're all pretty much- more or less- evil." Dylan said, shrugging.

All six of them looked like they were going to faint at that. They backed away a few feet. 

"Wai-wai-wait, I'm not finished. But a few of us try to be good, but most don't succeed." Dylan looked like he knew that from experience.

"Why are you telling us this?" Rainbow Dash asked, wrinkling an eyebrow. 

"Well, I guess I consider myself to be one of the ones who at least tries to be good. If you want proof, ask Fluttershy why she's not cat food." 

"Good point..." Twilight noted, writing down a few things on her paper.

"What are some major human accomplishments?" Twilight asked. 

"We flew to our moon, for one." 

"Flew... to your moon!?" Rainbow Dash said, completely excited. 

"That's horse feathers, Dylan, you ain't got no wings!" Applejack commented wryly. 

"Spacecraft do." 

"Spacecraft?" All six of them said at once.

"Yeah, rockets, wings, the whole shebang. Some other... accomplishments would have to be flying to other planets in said spacecraft." 

The ponies' jaws literally fell open as far as they could go now. 

"Sweet Celestia..." Rarity intoned. 

"That's Awesome! Not as awesome as me, though. I bet I can beat one in a race!" RD boasted. 

Dylan simply chuckled, then looked back at Twilight. He now had a grim look written all over his face. 

"Our greatest achievement has got to be killing each other over and over again, just because we're different than one another. Totally rational. But we're really good at it, so why stop, right?" Sarcasm was something Dylan practiced occasionally. 

Once again, horror on the six ponies faces. 

"On a lighter note, we have a very rich amount of world culture. Without a rather important piece of it, I probably wouldn't have gone back for Fluttershy." 

"What piece of culture made you want to do that?" Fluttershy quietly asked. 

"It's a book, called the bible. Bible literally means /book./ Essentially, all of modern culture and values- well, most anyways -from laws, to ownership, to pretty much not blowing every last one of us to kingdom come, came from this book. Its said to have been written by God himself, through a bunch of different humans. Although some 'experts' care to disagree on whether or not it's true. I for one believe it is." Dylan said confidently.

"God?" Fluttershy spoke up quietly, her voice hushed. 

"Yeah. Omnipotent, Omniscient, Omniprescent deity of Christianity and Judaism. Never heard of him? Figured so." 

"Well... we have the Princesses," Twilight smiled as she talked, "Princess Celestia and Princess Luna. They control the Sun and the Moon, respectively." 

"Names kind of gave that away; I'm a quick thinker. Celestial, is related to stars, but in this case, the sun. And Lunar, is related to moons, of course. Don't sound like goddesses. More like caretakers of your planet if you ask me." 

Twilight spoke back up, "All right, then... What did you do, back where you came from? Earth, was it?" 

"Yeah. I didn't really do much after things got..." Dylan looked like he would burst into tears for a moment, but he composed himself the best that he could. "bad... Before that, I guess I was a writer of sorts." 

"Ooh, do you like books?" Twilight said excitedly.

"Yes, actually. I wouldn't be an author if I wasn't. They're kinda like /crack/ to me." 

"What's /crack/?" Fluttershy asked, with a naïve and puzzled expression on her face. Of all of them, why did the cutest, most innocent one ask that!? 

"Uhh... looks kinda like snow... Moving on..." 

"I love snow!" Pinkie Pie giggled, "It's so fluffy, and cool, and-"

"Moving on. I don't know what else to tell you, besides this: can I have some fucking pants, please?! I've been holding my hands over my /crotch/ for half a bloody hour!" 

He got his pants. Rarity made a quick apology for not realizing sooner, then proceeded to take him to her shop and get straight to work. After she made the pants, (very, very quickly) which were black, she realized undergarments were needed too, as well as a belt. She made those with spectacular grace and speed as well. A plain white undershirt, a black jacket and a well-made dark grey overcoat completed the outfit. Dylan also explained shoes to Rarity. She wasn't a cobbler, but she did the best that she could. He ended up getting a rather tough but fashionable pair of heavy shoes. 

Dylan fished through his new, albeit empty pockets out of habit. 

"How much?" 

"Free of charge, you did save Fluttershy from that horrid, ghastly manticore." She shivered and made a disgusted look. "It had been harrassing us for weeks! It's strange though, as we rarely get any trouble from the forest's denizens out here in Ponyville." 

Dylan looked genuinely surprised and somewhat distressed at not having to pay. "You're giving me all this for free? This looks really damn expensive." 

"Yes, dear, of course. You're rather... rugged, and your vocabulary could use a little less... well... harsh words, but you obviously possess a great bit of chivalry." 

"Chivalry? Me? You did hear- never mind. Thank you for the clothes, and the compliments... but are you sure you can't accept a generous-" 

"No, no, no, no, no! Accept the gift, please. You have a nice day, now! Ta-taaaa! Ugh! And have a shower or something, please, you smell horrible." 

Dylan was pushed softly and politely out of the Carousel Boutique. 

"That's just my manly odor!" Dylan laughed, then sniffed his armpit. He cringed, then looked sour.  Heh, shower it is. 

***

Walking through the streets of Ponyville, Dylan quickly noticed the fearful and curious stares from essentially every pony in the town. Stares weren't the only things he was aware of; He heard hushed but excited talking as well. Things such as 

'I heard that he eats ponies!' 'He killed a manticore by ripping its eyes right out of its head!' 'That's nothing! He fell from a twelve-story building and survived!' it was mostly uninformed gossip, but a few conversations were not far from the truth. 

Some that were more accurate included 'He and Rainbow Dash were fighting, and it looked like he was winning.' 'Oh? He saved Fluttershy, though, he can't be that bad.' 'Huh. I Heard that he's a human... whatever that is.' 

Dylan didn't really care much about what the townsponies were saying, instead continuing to take in the town's layout as he walked. As he saw from inside the hospital, the majority of the buildings were houses with thatched roofs. They were quite rustic, despite some (in Dylan's opinion) distasteful pink hearts on some of the buildings. 

Color murder for my eyes... Who puts big pink hearts on a house that looks great already? Especially a house with a thatched roof... Dylan thought with a grimace.

Dylan's wanderings soon brought him to the edge of what looked like a field with giant rows of apple trees, a farmhouse, a barn, and various other farm buildings. He stopped at the gate of the fence which separated the orchard from the rest of the town. Next to the gate was a sign that read, Sweet Apple Acres in big red letters. Underneath that was another line of words, written in still-wet white paint: Best cider that a human's ever tasted! Dylan smiled, shaking his head slowly. 

"Man, word travels fast in small towns... especially when they're inhabited by quadrupeds..." 

Dylan lifted the latch on the gate, then walked through and headed towards the farmhouse in the distance. When he was about halfway to the farmhouse, he noticed a red work pony with half of a golden apple on his rear thigh, who was pulling a cart with several buckets of ruby red apples stacked in the back.
As Dylan walked up to the stallion he assumed was Big Macintosh, he was thinking of away to remedy his empty pockets. It didn't seem like there was much of a call for creative writing in Ponyville, so working at the apple orchard seemed like a good enough idea. 

"Good afternoon. How's the work goin'?" Dylan asked, eyeing the heavy-laden cart with admiration. 

Big Macintosh's ears perked up, then he turned his head to look at Dylan. He smiled sincerely, "Oh, hello there. You must be the new po- excuse me - human in town." 

"Well, there aren't many of us around." Dylan's lips curled back in a smile of his own "It's good to talk to another male for once today, I was gettin' all 'hormoned out' with all the females in town." 

Big Mac chuckled, continuing to pull the cart with surprising ease. 

"Eeyup, I know how that feels. It's good to see fresh faces in Ponyville; we don't get many visitors." 

"Say, Mac- Can I call ya' Mac?" 

"I Don't see rightly why not." 

Big Mac's voice was slow, deep and controlled, which contrasted with Dylan's somewhat faster pacing and how he skipped the endings of some words. 

"Funny, my last name is MacLauchlan. Guess we're the two Macs." Dylan smiled back. "First name's Dylan, though." 

"Nice to make an acquaintance with you, Dylan." 

Big Mac's genuinely warm personality was one of the many reasons why he was so well liked.
Dylan's experiences had generally taught him that people like Big Mac were rare and far in between. It seemed as if almost everyone he met in Ponyville was extremely kind to one another. In Dylan's own thoughts, There are no jerks at all in this town... 

Dylan and Mac walked together for a few minutes, chatting about their homes, their jobs, and whatever else seemed interesting. Inevitably, girlfriends and fillyfriends came up, Dylan being the first to speak up. 

"Well, I used to like this girl, we were friends and all, but she never really got as serious as I did. She sort of pretended to like me romantically, and, long story short, she broke my heart. Used me like a damn fool." Dylan looked like he was going to cry. 

Moisture was welling up in his eyes, making them shine brightly in the sunlight. "I woulda taken a bullet for her, and she just thought I had some stupid fucking elementary school crush on her. She broke it off, but tried to keep me as a friend. I didn't like it; I didn't like the pain of being around her. So I pretty much told her that I was done with her making me miserable. I loved her, she didn't love me." 

Mac looked sad as well, his typical smile now a slight frown. His eyes seemed to soften, and he looked down at the ground. 

That particular example of female callousness had held a grip on Dylan's heart for years, and his anger, sadness and pain showed in his voice. Big Mac replied to Dylan's story with genuine care in his voice. 

"I'm... sorry to hear  about that. Maybe you'll find somepony new someday?" 

Dylan sighed as stress twisted a knot of tension inside him. 

"Tried. It didn't work. Sure, I met people, but it was... never the same. I'm just not sure I can take any more disappointment." 
Mac seemed to mull that over for a minute as the two walked in silence. 

"Eeyup," he finally said, nodding slowly, "That's tough." 

"Damn straight." 

Dylan was crossing his arms over his chest, his posture slouched over, as if he was literally weighed down by his pain. 

"Well, uh..." Big Mac suddenly got very shy as he realized what was expected from him next.

"Hey, come on... you got a... uh... special mare in your life?" 

Mac's cheeks flared deep red, somehow able to be seen even with his red coat. 

"Eeyup... She's nice..." 

Dylan looked expectant for a moment, then confused. "Come on, give me more. Is she good-looking? Smart? Funny? Are you shy, Mr. Big and tough ol' Macintosh? Tell me, come on... you know can trust me." 

"Uh... Well- Oh look! We're at the storage barn. I've gotta unload these here apples. Yeah... that's it..." 

Mac seemed to disappear in a cloud of dust, running into the barn as quickly as if his life depended on it. Dylan laughed heartily, holding a hand up to his face and shaking his head. "Knew it. Big softie."

AUTHOR'S NOTE 
Methinks the dream sequence was awesome. Good morning, afternoon, evening, night or whatever time it is where you are. Chill times, Bronies and Pegasisters. Chuckles out. 
> Chapter 4- Blood and Sweat
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"The Other Side" Chapter 4- Blood and Sweat

After Big Macintosh ran off into the barn, Dylan turned on his heels and made his way to the farmhouse. There was a sweet smell of baking apples wafting from an open windowsill. The front door of the house was open, and Dylan walked inside. He knocked twice as he passed through the doorway, the rapping sound of knuckles on wood carrying throughout the room. After a few moments, Applejack's voice came from the other room, "I'll be right with ya' in a minnit'!" 

Dylan once again searched his pockets. If lint had been a currency in Equestria, he'd probably have enough to buy exactly nothing; Rarity was a neat freak. So, I have no job, no food, no money, no house, and a few acquaintances. How the hell am I gonna make it? Maybe I'll become a hobo. Does Ponyville have hobos? Don't think so. Hermit? No, that makes me sound like an old, bearded dude who lives alone... Shit... two out of three... Hermit it is, unless the chick who kicked me in the balls actually hires me... Dylan's thoughts to himself ended when applejack came into the front room wearing an apron. The apron  had crumbs and apple-stains on it, and Applejack quickly brushed it off with her hooves. 

"Oh! Howdy there, Dylan. What brings ya' to Sweet Apple Acres? I was just puttin' some pies in the oven." 

Dylan scratched behind his ear, looking down at his shoes. 

"Well, I was wonderin' if you'd hire me. I don't really have anythin' to do in Ponyville, and I figure I'll need money for food and such. That and Big Mac's kinda growing on me. Pretty much everyone I've met is so..." 

"Nice?" 

"Yeah, nice. So uh..." 

Applejack smiled, pulling off her apron and hanging it up on a nearby rack, 

"Yeah, sure! You can work on the orchard, but do ya' think ya' can handle it?" 

Dylan looked grateful, lifting his eyes back up to the blond-maned earth pony. 

"Heck, yes. What do ya' need me to do?" 

Applejack nodded, then pointed over her shoulder, "Good, you're gonna need that there enthusiasm for the job, it's a tough one. Back behind the house is a bunch of broken branches, trunks, fallen trees, that sorta thing. I need you to chop em' all up for firewood. They've been sitting' back there for a day or two, but mah' brother and I haven't been able to get to cuttin' em up." 

"Me? Hit something hard with a large, heavy object until its in multiple pieces? No problems here. I've done quite a lot of hittin' things in my life." 

Applejack shot the bearded redhead a curious look, "Why've you been doin' that, Puddin'?" 

"Well, the city I used to live in was rough, but I also was a martial artist. Nothin' too special, but I could definitely hit hard if I needed to. I got in plenty of fights, to be honest. Generally, it was the other guys who lost." 

Applejack looked Dylan up and down. What she noticed that she hadn't before, was that Dylan stood in a stance that looked like he was always ready for a fight. 

"Oh... alright then. There's an axe in the shed behind the back ah' the house. Call me if you need anythin', but right now I gotta get back ta' bakin'!" 

"You're kiddin' about the axe, right? I'll do fine with these guns." 

He flexed his biceps, which were nothing to scoff at. He gave each a sarcastic, comedic kiss before resting them back down at his sides. Applejack laughed, shaking her head as she walked back into the kitchen. 

"Go get em', tiger." 

Dylan found the pile of wood easily enough, as it took up a massive amount of space directly behind the house. Got wood? Dylan thought with a smirk. He walked around the pile to a small, roughly-built shed. Inside were various farming implements, from pitchforks to shovels. A long-hafted iron axe rested between a pair of dusty looking crates. He picked it up, turning it in his hands. 

Hmm... weight's good... handle doesn't have any splinters.../ He touched one of his fingertips to the axe's blade. /And it's sharp. /Time to get started. Doesn't seem like I'll be done soon, either.

The sound of chopping wood had become monotonous in Dylan's ears, just as the motion of swinging the axe had burned into his muscle memory. He was drenched in sweat, and his arms ached with the hours of laborious chopping. His mind seemed to lose all thoughts other than the task at hand, which he performed with intense focus. He sat down for a moment on a still-intact tree trunk, leaning on the haft of the axe. He sat there for a minute, then looked down at his hands; They were covered in callouses and scrapes that he hadn't had before. After seeing his hands, Dylan twisted his neck to look up at the evening sky. It was sunset, and the final rays of golden sunlight were playing across the Orchard's gracefully swaying grass. 

Beautiful. Its too bad I'm out here alone. Not like anyone's really that... comfortable around me here... But at least I'll have this work finished up soon.

Dylan stood up, admired the sun's golden light as it turned orange, then deep red, before it finally disappeared over the horizon.

He had just chopped up the last of the wood when he heard the sound of yelling coming from the front of the house. He braced the axe on his shoulder and quickly walked to where the sound was coming from. What he saw was Applejack talking to a giant female Griffon. They were both on the porch. The griffon was yelling furiously at the distressed-looking apple farmer, a spray of spittle leaving her mouth each time she did. Dylan hustled angrily over to where the two were standing, letting his 'outside voice' out of its cage once more. 

"Hey! You! The fucking thing that looks like the result of a one-night stand between a chicken and a housecat! What the hell d'you think you're doin'?" 

The griffon whirled, squawking irately. "You talking to me?" 

"Of course I'm talking to you! What's going on here?" 

Applejack looked like she was about to break out in tears. 

"It's nothin'... Dylan, jus' go inside. Please!" 

The fear in her voice was thick, and her eyes were shut. 

"Why? What's going on?" 

Dylan looked deeply concerned now, looking at Applejack with caring eyes. 

"None of your business, freak! Get lost before you make me do something you'll regret!" 

The griffon flexed her front talons as she stood up on two legs, narrowing her eyes into slits. 

"You threatenin' me, you flyin' rat? Applejack, what the fuck is going on?" 

"Now you're starting to make me mad!" 

"Dylan, go! Gilda, please, he doesn't know." 

Applejack was crying, shining tears rolling down her orange cheeks. She was quietly shaking, shivering with terror. She now looked desperately at Gilda, but the griffon had her predatory eyes locked on Dylan. Dylan's eyes had that same spark of the predator, and they seemed to be staring murderously sharp daggers at Gilda. 

"What. Are. You. Doing. To. Her?!" 

Dylan was frothing mad, his  hands bringing the axe down into a fighting position. 

"What I'm about to do to you!" Gilda screamed venomously.

Gilda leaped off of the porch, her beak open wide, her claws slicing forward. Dylan swung the end of the axe's haft sideways, bludgeoning Gilda in the side of the face with a fleshy thud. She continued her momentum, her claws ripping Dylan's chest and shoulders. She crashed into him, sending him stumbling backwards into a crouch. 

She was In a frenzy, screaming like a banshee. Her claws had torn ragged holes in his new overcoat, and that pissed him off. 

"Damn it! I just fucking had this made!" 

The veins in his neck were bulging out, his lips drawn back in an angry grimace. Dylan growled out as he brought a foot snapping forwards into the underside of the screeching griffin's body. She huffed as the blow connected, bending over slightly, then swung her talons towards Dylan's exposed jugular. He twitched, his honed reflexes from countless street fights kicking in. Before the griffon's pointed talons could tear his throat to shreds, he slammed the handle of his axe hard against Gilda's rapidly closing arm. The loud crack of bone breaking was sickening to Gilda's ears; to Dylan's it was sweet, sweet music. 

Her mind afire with pain and fury, Gilda shoulder-charged Dylan and sent him sprawling to the ground. He landed flat on his back, the axe slipping from his tired hands. She bit down viciously on his left shoulder, taking shreds of clothing and bits of flesh off with her cruelly sharp beak. He screamed, trying to pull her beak away from his vulnerable body. With one hand he pushed on her face, while he flattened the other. That hand's fingers were all completely touching one another, and his thumb was pressed closely to the side of his hand. Dylan struck Gilda's throat with the tips of his fingers so hard she had to rip her mouth away from his shoulder. She coughed violently, blood and spit mingling together in the dirt.

He didn't give her the chance to retaliate. Dylan grabbed Gilda's broken arm with vicelike force, sweeping one of her back legs out with a hard kick. He rolled, pinning her down between his legs, his fist raised behind his head. A voice whispered inside his mind, Kill her. Make her suffer. She had just stopped coughing when he  slammed his fist brutally into her windpipe. He punched her throat over and over again, while she tried to block with her arms. Several times he hit her broken arm, Gilda wailing in pain each time. Dylan was uncontrollably furious, screaming bloody murder. His hands wrapped around her throat, crushing the life out the wounded griffon. Gilda looked into Dylan's eyes, and what she saw... was fire. It looked as if the very inside of his skull was ablaze. In the fire, she saw her own terrified face reflected. She was crying, blood dripping from her open mouth. She desperately tried to pry Dylan's hands from her throat. She couldn't. She was suffocating. To make matters worse for Gilda, Dylan was slamming her head against the ground. Each time he did, a deep, enraged roar came from his throat. Gilda's brain literally felt like it was going to explode. Suddenly, Applejack screamed, horrified. 

"Dylan, no! N-no! Stop! Please! That's enough!" 

Dylan froze at the sound of her voice, his instincts to fight- to kill -had drowned out the sound of Applejack's voice. He stopped trying to pulverize Gilda's skull into a fine powder, loosening his grip on her neck enough for her to breathe. The fire in his eyes burned a little less, but he kept his infernal gaze locked on Gilda. 

"Why?" 

Dylan's voice sounded inhuman, a growling bark full of rage. Applejack was crying, tears staining her face. She walked down from the porch on unsteady legs. She looked more scared of Dylan than Gilda, who was little more than a sobbing, gasping wreck on the ground. 

"Because... you're scarin' me..." She said these words hesitantly, but her fear was more one of shock than imminent harm to herself. 

"Just let her go, she's... had enough." 

The fire died behind Dylan's eyes as he turned to look at Applejack. Dylan stood up slowly. After he got up, he kicked Gilda in the gut and spat at her before he backed away a few steps. 

"Go. Before I change my mind..." Dylan's voice was normal again, his rage subsiding to a lesser anger. 

Gilda stumbled to her feet wordlessly, leaping into the night sky and flying so fast the devil himself might as well have been chasing her. That wasn't far off. With a sigh, Dylan's shoulders sagged, and he slumped lightly against an apple tree, exhausted. 

"What was she doing here? And who was she?" 

"She was an old friend of Rainbow Dash's... Was." 

"So what was she doing here?" 

Applejack looked down at the ground shamefully, her honest personality urging her to tell Dylan. 

"Gilda... she was blackmailin' me. She wanted a... cut of the orchard's profits. She was jus' about to collect her money when... you came around the front." 

Dylan thought about how he had assumed that things like this didn't happen in Ponyville; It turns out they did. 

"Why were you crying?" 

Applejack looked completely defeated. Her head hung low to the ground as she looked up at Dylan. 

"Gilda, she said that she'd burn down all the trees. She said that she'd take Sweet Apple Acres apart piece by piece until she got her money... But that ain't why I'm cryin... Gilda... she threatened mah' sister... She said she'd hurt her if I didn' give her what she wanted..." 

Dylan's heart ached at the look of deep misery that was on Applejack's face. He struggled to repress the rage that was now returning with renewed vigor. 

"She was gonna hurt mah' sis... she was gonna hurt Applebloom!" 

A knot of murderous intent began to twist and wrap around Dylan's heart. 

"How long has this been going on?" Dylan's voice was calm, but inside his thirst for blood was like a tidal wave. It was pushing again and again on his dam of self-control. The dam was cracking. Applejack sobbed; the once strong pony was now a sorrowful mess. 

"Since she met up with Dash a while ago... Maybe a few months... Pinkie Pie tried to change her. She couldn't. Gilda hated pretty much everypony, and she didn't care about the pain she was causin'. She... came back a few weeks ago... I'll never forget how she made Fluttershy cry..." 

Those last four words were all that was needed to destroy the dam completely. The flood of rage was unbearable.

"I'm gonna go. You come lookin' for me if ya' need anythin'. And don't worry about payin' me yet... I'll make due. There's just something I gotta finish first." 

He lay a hand on Applejack's shoulder tenderly, looking into her deep green eyes with as much sympathy he could muster. 

"I'll make sure no harm comes to you or your family, I swear... Good night, Applejack."

"G'night, Dylan. You take care of yourself." 

Dylan nodded and began walking towards the exit front gate of Sweet Apple Acres. 

He walked normally at first, moving at a brisk pace. After he looked over his shoulder to make sure he was out of sight, he ran as fast as his legs could carry him in the direction that Gilda had flown. The hair on the back of his neck bristled as a chill passed down his spine. Make. Her. Pay. A voice in the back of his mind growled. Dylan's thoughts were cold and serious. I will make her pay. She doesn't know who she's messing with, not one damn bit. If you hurt me... I can take it. If you hurt the people I love... I will fucking kill you.


Gilda had stopped flying minutes ago. Overhead, the moon was full, shining high in the sky like a giant white eye for some distant titan. Gilda had landed in a grassy field and tried to nurse her broken leg. That freak! He busted up my arm! I don't know what the buck he is, but Gilda takes cud from nopony. Nopony. Once my leg's better, I'm gonna find that albino motherbucker, grab the creep and drop him from the sky. We'll see how well he fights a couple of hundred feet in the air! Gilda's thoughts were rudely interrupted by the sound of footsteps behind her. She turned around to see Dylan. 

His clothes were torn, there were ragged gashes from her claws in his chest, and a giant chunk was bitten out of his shoulder. He looked like he was about to collapse, but something still kept him going. His face was an insane glare; the glare of a madman. He looked like a man who has seen too much, felt too much, and known too much.

"What do you want, bucker? I thought we were done here." 

Dylan's evil smile spread from ear to ear, his teeth glinting in the moonlight. He laughed cruelly, a deep mocking sound like thunder. He locked his flaming eyes on Gilda's own, the look of pure scorn chilling her to the core. Dylan breathed deeply, popping his neck, which had become stiff. 

"I CHANGED MY MIND." 

He dropped his coat and jacket to the ground, removing his shoes as well. "What do you mean 'you changed your-" Gilda stopped speaking as she saw the most horrifying thing she had ever seen; Dylan's muscles had literally exploded with growth, expanding to massive sizes. The veins under his skin bulged and throbbed, and his bones rearranged themselves, violently. The sound of Dylan's skeleton rearranging itself into its new form was grotesque. Popping, ripping, tearing, stretching; that was what Gilda heard. His chest expanded, his ribs widening with a disgusting squelching sound. His legs bent backwards like a canine's, his feet turning into long, powerful paws. His hands snapped into place as they grew to the size of baseball mitts, razor sharp claws slicing out of the tips of his fingers. Night-black fur sprouted from everywhere on his body, immediately bursting into flames. A manelike mass of fire had formed across his back, and a burning tail had stretched out behind him. His face was no longer recognizable as human. The face looking at Gilda was of a snarling, hellish wolf with murderously pointed fangs. His eyes were like burning spheres of pure killing rage, their diabolical intent clear. 

Gilda screamed as he  descended upon her and ripped her into blood-soaked chunks. Then he feasted.  Blood dripped from his open maw, strips of flesh and tendon hanging from between his gnashing teeth. His howls of demonic malice echoed through the rolling moonlit plains.

AUTHOR'S NOTE
And so begins the fall to darkness...
> Chapter 5- Shelter
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"The Other Side" Chapter 5- Shelter

The skies poured rain as lightning cracked like a whip overhead. Fluttershy rushed all of her animals to their houses, moving them with a maternal touch and whispered words of assurance. 

"It's OK. The storm will pass and we'll all be fine. No need to worry, I'll protect you." 

She spoke to them with a caring, calm voice, hushed and soothing, as if speaking normally would scare them. The skies were black with large, twisting stormclouds, drenching everything under them with pounding rain. The sky lit up eerily with each flash and snap of energy the stormclouds released. After Fluttershy was sure that every last animal was safe, she hurried inside her cottage, closing the door quickly behind her. As soon as she had went inside, her mask of calm confidence was replaced with a look of worry and concern. She had never seen a storm like this before, and it did not bode well. Lightning speared down from the clouds every few seconds, and the amount of water falling from the sky was torrential. The ground around her house was literally drowning; the dirt was now a thick mud that pulled greedily at feet and hooves alike. She had trouble just walking from her house to the small animal habitats she maintained. 

Fluttershy tried desperately to forget the storm, and walked into her small kitchen with a nervous look on her face. She lit a fire in her stove and put a kettle on, trying to boil water for tea. As the water boiled, Fluttershy practically ran up her stairs, and grabbed a blanket from her bedroom closet . She pulled it around herself tightly, as if it could protect her from the raging storm in the skies above. She went back downstairs and grabbed a teacup from one of her kitchen cupboards, holding the dainty china with a firm but gentle grip. She poured the hot tea into her cup, blowing on it softly before taking a sip. She had barely enough time to swallow her mouthful of tea before another bolt of lightning struck. This bolt was deafeningly loud, so loud the house's windows rattled in their frames. Fluttershy jumped at the noise, diving under her kitchen table. She peered out with fearful eyes, slowly creeping to the window when nothing else happened. She stood up slowly, peering over her windowsill with frightened eyes. Peering into the darkness, she saw nothing out of the ordinary. 

She was about to go back to drinking her tea when the forest lit up again. The disturbing light revealed a dark shape moving sluggishly towards Fluttershy's house. She screamed as she saw it, dropping her cup full of tea. It smashed into a dozen pieces, shards of china skittering across the floor. A puddle spread outwards at Fluttershy's feet, slowly creeping outwards from the point of impact. The shape moved very slowly, and appeared to lean against trees, stumble forwards, fall halfway down into the muck, and pull itself back up. It was dragging itself ever closer, lurching from place to place. Fluttershy was panicking, darting around the room at breakneck speed, trying to find a place to hide. 

What is that?! I need to find somewhere to hide! No, no, no... that won't work. Maybe in the bathroom? The closet? Under the bed? Hide! Hide! Hide! 

Fluttershy's thoughts were desperate and fearful, gripping her mind tightly, threatening to never let go. Suddenly, another thought hit her like a slap to the face. It chilled her to the core, sending surges of cold terror racing up her spine. 

The animals! 

She burst through her front door, a protective determination now replacing her feelings of self-preservation. She pawed at the ground like a bull ready to charge. She lowered her head, preparing to rush at whatever monstrosity was making its way towards her cottage. She snorted softly, the rush of hot air from her nostrils turning into fog as it mixed with the cold, rainy air. She ran full tilt towards the thing, her pounding hooves kicking up sprays of thick, dark mud with each step. She yelled out as she closed the distance between her and the shape. 

"Leave them alone!" 

Her brows had creased angrily, her eyes narrowed, and her mouth had turned into a frown by the time she was within twenty feet. Lightning flashed again, the witchlight illuminating the shape completely. It was Dylan. His clothes were shredded, long talon-marks cutting through the fabric on his chest, and a large chunk was ripped out of his left shoulder. He looked like he was moving on sheer will alone, as his knees sagged and his arms dropped low to his sides. His head hung low, his back arching over as he tried to drag himself forward. His hands were mangled, the knuckles bloody; the skin had been ripped from his fingers. His face and skin were completely pale, even paler than normal, and it was obvious he had lost a lot of blood. His clothes were almost entirely soaked in the dark red liquid, and there were rivulets of it streaming from the corners of his mouth. His pants and undershirt were charred rags, and it looked as if they had been set afire. The look in his eyes was one of heart-chilling fear and confusion. He stared right into Fluttershy's eyes. If Dylan had been able to speak, he would have said 'Help me.', but instead, all that came from his lips was a pitiful groan. 

"H-h-hlllph... muhh..." 

Fluttershy skidded to a halt, the anger she had felt moments ago was nothing compared to the brain-wrecking feeling of incomprehension that now closed its fingers forcefully around her mind. 

"D-Dylan! Wha-" 

Before she could finish speaking, Dylan fell limply into the mud with a loud splash. His face was completely submerged in a pool of water, and Fluttershy frantically dragged him out of it to stop him from drowning. She held his head in her hooves. Looking closer at his wounds, she could see that a ragged gobbet of flesh had been torn out of his shoulder from what looked like a beak. Blood gushed freely from the wound, and she could look into the very workings of his musculature. The weeping trenches torn in his chest also bled furiously. To Fluttershy, it seemed impossible that he could even be alive, as the amount of blood he had lost should have been the end of him. Again, Dylan had miraculously survived for a reason completely unknown to her. She felt his pulse, which was barely noticeable, even to her, who was a trained healer. She didn't hesitate. Fluttershy lifted Dylan over her shoulder and galloped towards her house as if nothing else in the world mattered. She was crying, her chest heaving With each choked out sob. 

Fluttershy shouldered her house's door open, stepping around the shattered teacup and pool of tea. Her hair was weighed down with the rain, and her feet were caked with mud. The floor under her feet creaked and groaned as she ran to her kitchen table. She lifted Dylan's unconscious body off of her shoulders and placed him on his back atop of the table. Fluttershy then went to her closet and pulled out a box full of various tools, herbs, bandages, and other healing items. She dropped the box onto the table with a loud thump. 

"Where is it? It has to be here! Why isn't it here? Oh, why did I have to lose it now, of all times? Come on, find it, Fluttershy! You can do this! Where... Buck! Buck! Buck! Where is the piece of cud?! It's not in here!"

If her friends had heard her, they probably would have been completely taken aback, as they had never heard Fluttershy swear before. To them, it was normal to hear Applejack or Rainbow Dash cussing up a storm occasionally, and the other three might let a word slip by rarely, but Fluttershy had never before swore in their prescence. Fluttershy searched vigorously in the box for something, tossing items out of the box and onto the table. 

"Motherbucking garbage!" 

She tossed a bag full of roots to the floor angrily, spilling a few of them. She then picked up a small glass bottle of black powder, which had a label on it which said Coagulant. 

"Yes! Finally!" 

She yelled victoriously, twisting off the lid and pouring a pinch of it into each of her patient's wounds. The blood coming from each of the wounds seemed to thicken and turn a deeply dark shade of red, which was almost black itself. She also poured a few drops of a bluish-green liquid into the bloody flesh. She snatched a roll of bandage from the box and wrapped it tightly around Dylan's chest and shoulders, covering the large gashes and the empty space where part of his shoulder had been. 

Dylan twitched and writhed on the wooden table, groaning in distress. The fact that he had been completely still a few seconds ago was extremely unnerving.To Fluttershy, it looked as if he was experiencing a terrible nightmare, as the look on his face twisted into a look of utter sadness. A few seconds later, it was one of unfathomable rage. His fingernails dug into the underside of the table, his hands holding the sides in a white-knuckle grip. He began to spasm rapidly. His head was arched, turning from side to side. This went on for minutes. The whole time Fluttershy tried to comfort him with a hoof on his uninjured shoulder. He shook one last time, raised his chest towards the ceiling, and gasped before he became still. He looked as lifeless as a statue, and if she had not had her face close to his, she would not have felt his slow, warm breathing, and assumed he had probably died. 

Dylan awoke with unnatural speed, snapping his hands upwards and around Fluttershy's neck. He squeezed. Her eyes opened wildly with fear with fear and surprise. His face was a snarl, his teeth teeth bared like a feral predator. He screamed out, 

"You! You were there! YOU WERE THERE!" his gaze was mad with an insane light, peering into the depths of Fluttershy's eyes. 

"Hrk-hhhg-Dhlll-Dylan! I-It's me! S-Stop!" Her voice was a croak, her words strangled into a hoarse groaning noise. She was terrified, and her hooves instinctively raised to her throat and tried to pull away Dylan's hands. He continued to stare at her, his face contorted and pulled into a mask of anger. 

"Who are you?! Wh- w- No... NO!"

A sudden recognition sparked in Dylan's eyes, his anger turning to disbelief and horror. Fluttershy looked like she was about to lose consciousness, her eyes drooping closed. He threw his hands away with disgust, screaming a cry of anguish. 

"No! Wh-what did I just-..." 

Dylan broke into tears, rolling off of the table with the greatest look of misery in his deep blue eyes that Fluttershy had ever seen. 

"NO! NOOOOOO!" 

Fluttershy had just regained her breath, and she was also crying deeply. Dylan broke into a run and bolted for the door, almost ramming it out of its hinges as he sprinted outside.The rain and lightning were like nothing Dylan had ever seen. The water alone threatened to drive him to the ground with the sheer amount and force of it, and the raindrops stung bitterly on impact. The lightning was as if the sky had taken it upon itself to drown out every other sound, and to blind anyone who looked at it. Dylan's run came to an unexpected halt when he collapsed onto his hands and knees. His heart ached, in the physical and philosophical sense, and it felt as if it would rip itself apart with the amount of self-hate coursing through it. He could barely breathe, much less move, and even the effort to think rationally was monumental. Fluttershy's voice rang out, concern and compassion in her words, but fear also. 

"What happened?! I'm alright, Dylan! You're at my home! There's nothing to be afraid of!" 

Dylan turned his head, terror bleeding from his gaze. He spoke quietly, barely audible over the noise of the storm. 

"You're wrong... It's me. It's me that I'm afraid of... I... hurt you... What... am I? Why... was he... I can't hurt you again. I can't. I won't let myself. I did this... I tried to kill you. After you saved me... Why would I- NOOOOOOO!" 

Dylan was looking into a pool of water, and he had a look of complete rage on his face, but it appeared to be directed at his reflection. What he saw was his reflection, but something was undeniably wrong with it. His head was a leering skull, and it was burning with an otherworldly fire, it's eye sockets full of dark malice. He brought his fists crashing down into it with such force, it seemed as if he was trying to smash his mirrored self into a thousand pieces. He roared and screamed, his entire body focusing all of its remaining energy towards the destruction his reflection.

The skull did something impossible; It smiled. It was as if the bone actually molded itself. The smile it gave was one of diabolical amusement, and it began to laugh. He screamed in outrage, bringing the bottoms of his fists slamming down on it from with enough force to almost break his already torn hands into pieces. He wept. His sorrowful tears were put to an end by a comforting hoof on his shoulder. 

"Dylan, I forgive you." 

He stopped, his reflection his own again. He turned and looked at Fluttershy's compassionate face with a look of melancholy understanding. 

"Thank you... but... can I forgive myself?" 

He turned back to the reflection of himself, staring at it as if it would change horribly before his eyes once again. The rain and lightning were no longer deafening, they had begun to calm, now more of a soothing sensation than a terrifying one. 

"I hope so... I need you inside!" 

At these words, he turned his head in shock. 

"You... wait, what?!" 

His mind literally exploded with thought. WHAT THE FUCK DID SHE JUST SAY?! 

Fluttershy's mind was just as confused. What the buck? Did I... Oh... My... 

He looked completely embarrassed, shocked and confused at the same time. It took a moment, but then Fluttershy looked as embarrassed and surprised at her words as Dylan had been. 

"Uh, n-no! What I meant was... um... I need you inside the house!" 

Dylan still stared at Fluttershy, his mouth agape. He shut it slowly. 

"Oh. T-that... makes more sense. I think I need some help getting it up. Uh... Oh, shit! Uh... Getting myself up." 

WHAT THE FUCK DID I JUST SAY?! Dylan screamed inside his mind. 

"Uhm... I... I... OK... I'll help you up." Fluttershy's thoughts turned to surprise again. 

My goodness! He... did he? No. There's no way... 

She put her hooves around his shoulders, which was hard to do, seeing as he still stood a six inches taller than her even when she stood up on two legs. They walked rather awkwardly back inside Fluttershy's cottage. He opened the door weakly, trying to summon up a small bit of strength. 

Did we just... Never mind. 

He closed the door behind them with an exhausted, bleeding hand. 

> Chapter 5.5- Living Nightmare
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"The Other Side"- Living Nightmare

Dylan was in a dimly-lit room, and two figures were standing in front of him. He recognized them as his mother and father, and that the room was in his home back on Earth. They were both yelling, his face father's face was red with anger, while his mother's was filled with outrage. 

"How could you?! You bastard! You went to a fucking whorehouse! You don't love me at all, you sick son of a bitch! You've never loved me! All you've ever loved was yourself! How the fuck can you live with yourself?!" 

Dylan's mother was furious, her hair was wild, and her face was wet with tears. She was pointing one hand directly at Dylan's father, her pointer finger extended. He roared his reply. 

"YOU BITCH! DON'T YOU TELL ME THAT AFTER ALL I'VE DONE FOR YOU! UNGRATEFUL FUCKING WITCH! I'VE GIVEN YOU ALL YOU'VE EVER WANTED!" 

"No. You haven't. You never gave me a husband! You're just a damn child! You've never taken responsibility for anything in your entire life! You don't deserve love, all you do is take it away!" 

He bared his teeth inches away from herc face, spit spraying from between his teeth. 

"YOU TAKE THAT BACK! NOW!" 

She shook her head, her eyes full of defiance and disgust. 

"NO." 

She said the word at the lowest pitch that she could. Dylan now noticed the cell phone clutched behind her back. The screen had three numbers displayed on it, along with three words. 

911... Call in progress.

She tried to hide it, but he caught on quickly.

"What's behind your back? What are you hiding?!" 

"Get back! Don't come any closer!" 

Dylan's mother backed away, only to have her arm wrenched out, so the phone was in front of her husband's face. He looked at it for a moment, then growled. 

"You're gonna pay for that." 

He pulled a long hunting knife from his belt, then looked at it with a grin. He plunged it deep into his wife's stomach. She screamed. She groaned out in pain, tears spilling from her eyes as she fell to the ground now bloody ground.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"He screamed at the top of his lungs, charging directly at his father. Dylan's soul felt like it would burn forever. His eyes were weeping bitterly, and they were full of the darkest rage that his father had ever seen. He smashed into him like a freight train. His father flew backwards, tripping over a coffee table before slamming into a wall. He half crushed it, so fast had he been thrown into it. He stumbled back up to his feet, only to have a booted foot crack his jawbone viciously. He screamed in pain and fury, swinging the knife wildly at Dylan. It sliced along his arm wickedly, the steel coating itself in red. Dylan gritted his teeth and yelled again, grabbing the wrist of his father which held the knife. He twisted with as much strength as he possibly could, and he the knife dropped to the floor as he heard a hollow pop sound out. As he twisted with one hand, he lunged and swung his elbow at his enemy's face. The blow struck his target in the jaw once again. This time, a sickening sound like eggshells being crushed emanated from the bone. The scream coming from his father only served to make Dylan's rage burn hotter. 

Dylan was taller and more muscular than his father, but his father was bigger and heavier. Years of gluttony and neglect had made him fat, but it was hard, almost like muscle. He swung a meaty fist into Dylan's gut, his yell a mixture of agony and anger. Dylan doubled over, groaning angrily. He received an uppercut to his forehead which made his skull ache and his vision spin. Punching someone in the forehead is not a good idea. His father cried out again as he hurt his hand, his screams causing him further pain, as his mangled jawbone sent waves of agony rushing through his head with every movement. Dylan was bleeding, his arm dripping his vital fluids out and onto the floor. He looked down at the spots of red and immediately back up. He kicked sideways into his father's knee, his heavy boot hitting hard into the vulnerable joint. As his opponent teetered off balance as his knee dropped, Dylan threw his right hook, which slammed into his father's temple. This knocked him further off balance, but Dylan wasn't done. He punched with his left hand, his knuckles breaking his father's nose with a crunch. With that, he fell to the ground. His vision was a blur, but it was good enough for him to see his bloodstained knife. He crawled as fast as he could to it, grabbing it and spinning to his feet with a wordless look of malice. He ran at Dylan, the knife raised behind his head, poised to strike. Dylan whipped his booted foot upwards into his opponent's ribs, which resulted in a loud cracking noise. He sidestepped the blade narrowly, the vicious tip passing inches from his chest. He shoved his father away, who skidded across the floor. He turned and charged again, the knife glinting in his hands. Dylan reached down, gripping what he sought in a steel-like grip. As his father closed in on him, Dylan twisted his hips and shoulders in the opposite direction of his father, then spun them back again towards the man rushing towards him. The glass-topped coffee table slammed directly into his father, breaking teeth and bone. Shards of glass showered him, their jagged edges ripping into his flesh. He flew backwards, landing on his back limply.

He sat still for a few seconds before groaning. Dylan stepped on the broken glass, the sound of it crunching beneath his feet completely ignored. He walked slowly over to where his father lay, a look of bottomless rage and determination on his face. His father stirred and reached for the knife, but his hand was crushed beneath a treaded boot sole. He screamed again as Dylan leaned over and took the knife in his hand. 

"S-son... I'm sorry... You don't have to do this! I didn't mean to do it! Its all just some sick joke! You... you know I would never hurt her. I... I can make this right! Please, mercy!" 

Dylan's eyes were literally spewing fire, and his teeth were bestial fangs. His face was demonic. his glare enough to make his father piss himself. The floor between his father's legs now pooled with liquid. 

"W-what the fuck?!" 

There were only three words that came from the Dylan-Thing's mouth, and they sounded like they came from the darkest pit  in existence. 

"BURN IN HELL." 

His stare seemed to burn his father's very soul. His father screamed as the blade of the knife crunched through his breastbone and into his heart. He looked at it for a moment with disbelief and utter dread. The Dylan-Thing twisted it with a macabre smile, the sound of his father's death the best thing he had ever heard. The man's face took on a mask of endless pain before it became frozen, his eyes as wide as they could ever go.

After a minute, Dylan looked up, his eyes red with tears as he looked at his mother's body. He couldn't bear to look at her for more than a moment, so he turned his gaze downwards. The floor was covered in blood, coming from all three bodies in the room; His mother's, his father's, and his own. The shards of glass glinted in the dim light. Looking to the window, Dylan knew it was night. He saw the moon high overhead, as if it was staring down at Earth, watching it intently. In the window he saw his own reflection, hunched and bloody, crying tears of misery. That was where his memories ended, and something he hadn't noticed before was revealed to him. 

In the window's reflection was a man. He was bald, had a white beard and wore a suit. He was twisting a cane in his hands, playing with it carelessly. What was disturbing, however, was that he was laughing. Laughing. Laughing at him. Laughing at the death. Laughing at the horrible misery that Dylan was experiencing. Dylan's rage lit again, the tears replaced by a murderous glare. He turned to face the man behind him. There was no one. Dylan froze, chills racing through his as he realized how nightmarishly wrong this was. He could feel him there, laughing, twisting his cane, looking at him with a devil's red eyes. Dylan spun back to the window, staring straight at the man in the window. The man simply began to clap, as if he had just performed a beautiful symphony. The points of his eyes seemed to burn the stuff of his very soul, filling him with an eldritch dread. 

Without warning, there was an explosion of sound as two holes erupted in the floor to either side of Dylan. A pair of black chains seemed to materialize out of nowhere and wrap around Dylan's ankles. They dug in sharply, grating against his skin, pulling viciously. A moment later, two identical chains burst out of the roof and grabbed his wrists. They were pulling Dylan in two different directions, and he felt his joints began to crack and pop. His muscles felt like they were tearing, and his skin felt like it was taut across his entire body. He screamed in pain, his eyes staring straight at the roof. With a flourish, the man tapped his cane against the window, and impossibly, it began to ripple like water. He stepped through, defying all laws of physics with such a simple thing as a step. His polished shoes clicked as he stepped towards Dylan, his smile stretching from ear to ear, literally. His teeth were as sharp as needles, and he drew his tongue across the with anticipation. Dylan looked down, his stare locked at the center of the man's eyes. The man raised his cane ever so slowly to touch Dylan's chest. As he did so, he burst entirely into flame. His skin, flesh and organs all burned off of his bones within moments, falling as ashes to the floor. The pain was indescribable. Impossibly, he could still see his reflection. He was only bones, wreathed and clothed in a dark, unholy looking fire. Without command it to, his skull contorted, the bone warping into a scowl that would have made the bravest man break into whimpers. He roared, though he had no lungs to do so. He shook as he bellowed out his roars of fury and rage, fire licking his skeletal form. Then all was blackness.

His eyes flew open with a start, locking on the first thing he saw, which appeared to warp itself into the man's smiling face. He tried to crush the life out of his enemy, his rage giving him a newfound energy. Then he knew what he had done. He wished he was dead.
> Chapter 6- Recovery
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"The Other Side" Chapter 6- Recovery

As soon as Dylan entered the house, he was guided towards the stairs by Fluttershy. 

"You need sleep... and a washing up. After you get some rest, I'll help you get a bath ready. Now, be careful on the stairs." 

Dylan wobbled clumsily upstairs, clutching the handrail (or should I say hoofrail.) with a tired hand. The effort to move his legs was excruciating; his bones felt as if they were made of lead. He was escorted into a small bedroom, which was next to a larger, better furnished one, which he assumed was Fluttershy's. The room he was led into had one low-sitting bed, a dresser, a mirror, and a small table. The blankets and pillows on the bed were neatly and carefully set up, just as if Fluttershy was always expecting guests. She did enjoy having guests, but she was so shy she rarely asked anyone over. The room also had a circular window that looked out towards Ponyville, which was currently brightly lit in the night. Dylan assumed that there were a few establishments and buildings that still bustled, even in the dark hours.
He felt like visiting some of them, after he was healed, of course. If there was one thing you needed to know about Dylan's sleeping habits, it was that he slept and woke up late. This was due to the fact that he was an insomniac of sorts; writers tend to find it hard to sleep, with their over active imaginations and such. A slightly less pleasant reason for his insomnia was the large amount of painful and sobering memories of his last few years. Dylan pulled back the covers, nodded his thanks, and slid into the bed. He pulled the blankets around him snugly, resting his throbbing head on the pillows. Needless to say, his sheer exhaustion was enough to overpower his sleeplessness, and he began to drift off to sleep slowly. There was one thought on his mind as his eyes closed shut: 

I killed her with my bare hands...

As Dylan fell asleep, Fluttershy went back down to the kitchen to clean up the mess on the floor and put away her healing supplies. She paused to grab a broom and a cloth, then began to sweep the shards of teacup into a waste bin. As she swept, she began to think. 

What happened with Dylan? Why was he torn up like that? He was definitely in a fight, but with what? It looked like some kind of giant bird attacked him. I don't know about any birds that big in Ponyville... So what could have  done that? I don't know, I'll ask him later. 

Fluttershy finished brushing up the last of the shards, and began to wipe up the tea with the cloth. Her face was full of worry. 

What did he see in his nightmares to try and hurt me like that? Did someone try to hurt him? Oh, I hope not... Why is he afraid of himself? Is it because he  thought he hurt me? He didn't recognize me at first, either. Who did he think I was? And where did he think I was? He might not want to tell me... 

Fluttershy stood up, her cleaning finished. She put away the broom and began to wash the cloth in her sink. She wrung it out with her hooves then placed it on the edge of the sink's basin. 

Fluttershy lay in her bed, with her hooves resting at her sides. She breathed softly, the day's memories passing through her mind's eye with rapid succession: Being attacked by a manticore, then seeing it killed in front of her eyes by the most unusual creature she had ever seen; Chasing said creature after it jumped through a hospital window; Having her stare backfire for the first time in her whole life; Finding out how dangerous the thing -named Dylan- really is; Almost trampling him down in the dark; Seeing him bloody and broken, calling for her to help him; Having him survive the completely fatal injuries inflicted upon him; Seeing him experience some unknown and probably horrible nightmare in front of her very eyes; Being attacked by him, insanity burning deep in his eyes; Watching him mourn what he had done and blame himself for it; Feeling the strangest emotion she had ever experienced as she comforted him; Having him surprise her with a similar feeling to what she felt. All of these things seemed to snap into focus for a moment, only to merge with the swirling, raging storm of questions that plagued her curious mind. After a few minutes of hard thinking, she closed her eyes and let out one delicate, hushed breath. She fell asleep with the soothing feeling of the cool night air on her skin. 

Her dreams were anything but. She seemed to be standing in the middle of a massive conflagration. The fire twisted and roiled oddly, as if the very air were distorted. The ground was black, volcanic rock. It was cracked and scarred, and the flames seemed to pour upwards from the cracks, wrapping around each other and twisting in the air. The sky was red, and sorcerous energy crackled in the churning grey clouds above. None pf these things were the source of her fear. What had her heart seizing in her chest were seven figures. All of them were monstrous, hell-spawned horrors that would 
make the bravest soul flee like a coward. They were floating in a circle overhead, with one figure in the center. They were all peering at her with eyes full of hate and malice. Fluttershy was petrified. She was too horrified to make any sound at all. She was so completely overwhelmed that her mouth didn't even move open to let forth the scream that she could not make. The figure in the center drifted downwards, his chaotic combination of body parts immediately identifying him as a draconequus. He was the draconequus. Discord smiled. His teeth looked like knives had sprouted from his jaws. He bowed mockingly, lowering his head do that it was inches from Fluttershy's face. The darkness in his eyes caught her gaze. It was as if she was staring into two black holes. His eyes were no longer red, their entirety was the color of an abyss, cold and unloving. His tongue darted out, licking his dagger-like teeth as if he was about to savor a fine meal. 

"AH, YOU REMEMBER ME... GOOD." The words echoed inwardly, the sound like the growling and roaring of an earthquake. 

"I'LL MAKE SURE YOU NEVER FORGET." 

A hand bristling with crooked talons wrapped around her body and began to squeeze. The strength of Discord's grip was enough to make Fluttershy cry out in pain. As she cried out, tears of suffering streamed down her cheeks. He lifted her above his head, dangling her by a hoof, his jaws wide open. She screamed as he dropped her into his gaping maw.

Her scream wasn't just in her mind, however. Her piercing cry of dread echoed through the house. She sat up with a start, her heart beating like the rapid fluttering of wings. She barely had time to wake up before Dylan charged into the room, screaming bloody murder. His eyes were full of anger, and his teeth were gritted. He stood with his shoulders hunched, and his chin tucked close to his chest. He looked like he was about to bludgeon something to death with its own limbs after ripping them out of their sockets. His chest heaved as he breathed furiously. His breathing sounded like a low growling hiss coming from deep in his throat. Fluttershy looked completely surprised at Dylan's appearance. 

"Wh-what are you d-doing in my room?" 

Fluttershy spoke quietly and gently, as if she were talking to a dangerous wild animal. Dylan turned his head to look at her, the snarl leaving his face at the same time that the anger left his eyes. He spoke softly as well, as if he was afraid that he would scare her by talking at a normal volume. 

"You screamed, so I thought something happened. You're not hurt, are you?" 

Dylan looked at her, trying to determine whether or not she had been harmed. 

"N-no. I just had a bad dream... that's all. And you're the one who's hurt! You shouldn't be out of bed." she looked genuinely angry that he hadn't. 

"You need to get some rest." 

Dylan smiled, shaking his head. 

"I was never one for sleeping. There was always really scary-ass shit on my mind. And I mean fucking scary." 

He looked melancholy for a moment, then his face was full of concern again. 

"So, you had a nightmare?" Nightmare. It was funny how that sounded in a world full of talking ponies. 

Fluttershy nodded, looking downwards towards her hooves. 

"Y-yes." That was the only word she could muster. The fear was so powerful that she could barely talk about it. 

"What was it about?" 

Dylan was now standing directly beside Fluttershy's bed with his arms crossed on his chest. His hairy, muscular arms seemed to look even more imposing folded over each other. 

"S-someone I thought I'd n-never see again..." Fluttershy trembled as she recalled the sound of his voice. 

Dylan was quite the masculine figure, and he preferred to look it. His caring, sensitive personality was at complete odds with his appearance, and Dylan rarely let it show. This was one of the few times that he did. He leaned over on the bed and wrapped his strong arms around Fluttershy, pressing his neck against hers. He closed his eyes and stayed like that for a few seconds. 

"I won't let anything or anyone hurt you. They'll have to deal with me first. I'll stay up all night if that's what it takes to get you sleeping peacefully." 

Fluttershy froze, her heart skipping a beat. She cried again, her eyes glistening with tears. They were not tears of sadness, not of fear, not of pain, but tears of joy. 

"T-thank you. I..." 

Dylan stopped her, putting a finger to her lips and looking into her eyes. 

"Don't say anything. I understand. If you hadn't done what you did when I arrived here, I'd be dead. Dead. You saved me again tonight, and I can't stop thinking about how I... snapped when I woke up..." 

Fluttershy looked like she was about to speak again, but Dylan looked into her eyes and shook his head slowly. 

"You forgave me. The way you did it... it reminds me of someone I know. Someone very important to me. I see how important he is now. I wouldn't be here talking to you right now if he wasn't." 

Dylan embraced her again and then stood up and walked to the door. He stopped and looked back at Fluttershy, 

"I'll be right in the other room. Good night." 

Fluttershy tried to hide her tears, brushing them away with one hoof. 

"Good night, Dylan." 

the corners of his mouth turned upwards almost invisibly. He closed her door. She heard his footsteps as he moved back into his room, closed his door, and got into bed. She pulled the covers back over her and closed her eyes. She was asleep in seconds. Fluttershy didn't have any more nightmares that night.

Dylan woke up the next morning to the smell of oatmeal. He fucking hated oatmeal. He wished it would come alive, just so he could kill it. That's how much he hated it. 

Fuck. All right, then, oatmeal it is. Just be grateful you're even having breakfast at all... I hate non-solid breakfasts... yogurt... cream of wheat... damn disgusting. They're a disgrace to breakfasts everywhere! 

He got out of bed and looked down at his ruined clothes. 

Shit. Gonna need some new ones. I don't really feel like wearing trashed clothes, so I'll go naked this morning. She's already seen me naked, so it's no big deal, right? 

He walked out of the bedroom, heading downstairs with a rather uncomfortable look in his face. As he neared the kitchen, he saw Fluttershy stirring a pot full of something on her stove. Getting closer, Dylan knew it was unmistakably oatmeal that was being cooked in the pot. He shuddered in disgust, twitching slightly. 

"Good morning, Fluttershy." Dylan said, stretching his neck, which was stiff. 

"Good morning, D-" 

Fluttershy had turned and begun to stare, her mouth apparently trying to form words. 

"Y-your clothes, where are they?" 

"Trashed, remember?" 

She tried to look away from Dylan, but couldn't. 

"Oh. Y-yes. Um... Uh..." 

Dylan smiled warmly, a sudden thought striking him. 

"Hey, what's wrong? Every time I've seen you, you've been naked. Nothing to be ashamed of." 

She was. She blushed, as if she had realized something obvious for the first time. Normally, nudity wasn't a problem to ponies, but apparently realizing that she was nude made Fluttershy somewhat  embarrassed. 

Uh... She's a friggin' pony... ponies walk around naked... and she's embarrassed... Screw logic.

He awkwardly sat down at the kitchen table, which was strange seeing as he had almost been a corpse lying on it just the night before. Admittedly, he was completely frustrated at getting injured over and over again. Fell from the sky, hit some trees, stabbed by a manticore, fell from a window, punched in the face, kicked in the crotch, clawed at, bitten... His first day in Equestria was painful, to say the least. Sitting down in the chair was even more uncomfortable, the wood feeling strange on his bare skin. 

"Uh. What's for breakfast?" 

"Oatmeal. It's good for you!" 

"Yeah... got anything else? Maybe bacon?" 

"Bacon?"

"Uh, nevermind... it's not something ponies eat."

"What is it?" Dylan scratched his head, looked sheepish and smiled nervously. 

"Hey, Fluttershy, do you like pigs?" 

"Oh! Yes I do! They're so cute, with their curly tails, and their widdle bellies and snouts. And that adorable snorting thing they do! I love pigs!" 

Dylan looked like he was about to regret saying his next words.! 

"Bacon is pig... Pig meat..." 

It took a second for it to sink in, but Fluttershy's jaw caught up quicker than her tongue. She looked completely taken aback, her eyes completely wide and her mouth wide open. 

"P-p-pig... meat?! You eat pigs?!" 

Dylan gritted his teeth and looked at the table. 

"Pigs and cows and chickens and turkeys and fish... didn't I explain this yesterday?" 

"Cows?! Cows talk!" 

"Not in my world. Cows talk here?!"

"Yes! Why do you eat animals?!" 

"It's just the human diet. Would you get mad at a cat for eating mice? Or a mongoose eating snakes? If it makes a difference, I don't eat equines."

"It doesn't." 

"Oh. Can I have some... oatmeal?" He said that last word with disgust and venom, cringing inwardly. 

She walked over to the table with a bowl of the unappetizing mush and placed it in front of Dylan, along with a spoon. 

"Eat up."

"Sure... thanks..." 

Dylan picked up his spoon, gulped, and looked down at the bowl. 

"What are you waiting for? Dig in." 

Dylan raised the spoon and scooped up a bit of oatmeal. He brought it up to his mouth and tasted it. He smiled, but the gesture was fake. Inside his head, he mentally vomited all over the kitchen, then threw the oatmeal to the floor with a splat. 

"Good, now eat the whole thing." 

Dylan's fabricated smile stretched wider as he ate another spoonful of the slop. 

"It's... very good!" 

Dylan said this with a nod, at which Fluttershy smiled and turned back to the stove. 

"For feeding pigs..." this was whispered so that Fluttershy couldn't hear. 

She was humming a tune, bustling around the kitchen as Dylan tried to choke down the oatmeal. He literally had to slam his mouth closed so he wouldn't spit oatmeal all over the table. Needless to say, breakfast wasn't enjoyable for Dylan.

"So, did you sleep well last night?" Dylan said as he finished the last of his meal. 

Fluttershy looked shocked at how fast he ate it, as it had only been thirty seconds. Dylan did not want to spend ten whole minutes shoveling down something so disgusting to him. 

"Uhm, good. I didn't have any other dreams like that one last night."

"You did dream though?"

"Y-yes." Fluttershy blushed, and looked as if she was remembering something private. 

Dylan had no idea why she was so embarrassed. 

"What did you dream about?" 

"Um... I dreamt about last night... Uh, yeah, that's it. Last night. Wait a moment, aren't you hurt? How are you looking so healthy? You were almost dead last night!" 

Dylan shrugged, looking just as puzzled as Fluttershy. 

"Guess I'm just a tough sunnavabitch. That, and you must be very good at what you do."

"What do you think I do?" 

"Take care of things. Animals, mostly. It's hard not to notice." He felt a sudden tickling sensation at his feet, as if something was moving under the table. He looked down to see a white rabbit standing on top of his foot and staring straight at him. 

"Uh... Hi." 

Dylan grinned, looking down at the small furry mammal. 

"What're you doing down there?" 

The rabbit somehow crossed his front legs and looked at Dylan with a mixture of jealousy and frustration on his face. 

"Angel! Come get your breakfast." 

Angel frowned at Dylan before kicking his foot and running over to Fluttershy. 

"Ow. Little fucker... You sure you shouldn't change his name to Demon? He just kicked me." 

Fluttershy looked down at the little rabbit now staring up at her with innocent, sheepish eyes. 

"Angel, did you kick him?" 

He shook his head in the negative, looking at Fluttershy with a hurt look on his face. 

"Angel..." 

Fluttershy leaned close to Angel, her eyes open wide and staring at his with raw, savage intensity.

"Did. You. Kick. Him?" 

Dylan cringed a little, remembering how Fluttershy had stared at him in a similar way. 

Oh, shit... he's gonna get it. Dylan thought, trying to look like he wasn't the slightest bit nervous. 

Angel tried to look away, bit he ended up looking into her eyes anyway. He twitched and squirmed, trying desperately not to look guilty. It didn't help. 

"Did you just kick Dylan?" 

Angel tried not to, but he nodded nonetheless. Angel hung his head shamefully, his frown deepening. 

"Don't you do that again, mister! What did I say about hitting?" 

"It, uh... wasn't that big of a deal, I mean-" 

She turned her stare to gaze straight at Dylan. Without warning, Dylan sprang up and ran for the door. "She's gonna eat me! AGAIN!!!!!" 

Fluttershy stopped in place for a second, then chuckled to herself. Dylan turned around and laughed as well. 

"I need to wash up. I'll be back."

"I have a bathtub, you know... um... If you want." 

"Oh. I guess I don't need to bathe in the river then. You sure? I'll probably just stink it up with my masculineliness... shit. That ain't a word. Oh well." 

"Uh... okay. Its no problem, you are my guest after all." 

"Is it upstairs or down here?"

"Down here. Just over there." Fluttershy pointed a hoof towards the main room. 

"It's around the other side of the house. I can... run the bath for you..." 

"Oh. Thanks, that'd be nice. Hmm... how many other animals do you have running around the house?"

"Just Angel. All the other animals are outside in their homes. They're happier out in the fresh air."

"Ha. Don't get much of that myself. Or sunlight... I'm pretty much a basement dweller. Damn you, Skyrim..." 

"Skyrim?"

"A game. Got dragons in it." 

"What do you do?" 

"You kill dragons. Wasn't that kind of obvious? You know, fire-breathing, massive, princess-stealing, savage, monstrous lizards? What else would you do with em'? Have a tea party?" 

Fluttershy was silent for a moment, then nervously whispered. 

"They're not all bad, you know." 

"Well, you let me know when you find one that doesn't want a Dylan burger, and I'll buy him a damn drink. Otherwise, I'll make some nice boots outta the scaly wanker." He laughed heartily.

"Um... I'll run your bath." 

"Cool. Hey, you got any booze? My friggin' shoulder is hurtin' again." 

"What's 'booze'?" 

Dylan looked a little bit nervous, as if he was giving a young child a talk about something that they shouldn't know.

"Uh. Alcohol? Fermented stuff? Wine? Beer? Vodka? Whiskey? Rum? Gin? Tequila?" 

"Oh! I have some wine, yes." 

"I'm more of a beer man, but wine is good." 

"Dylan... do you... wanna talk about what how you got hurt last night?" 

Dylan swallowed, scratching his beard anxiously. 

"I uh... got in a fight." 

"With who?" 

"Gilda." 

"G-Gilda?! Why?"

"The bitch blackmailed Applejack and threatened her sister. That and I heard how she made you cry. So I beat the living fucking shit outta her. I got bit. I think I won, though. Last I saw of her, she wasn't in any state to come back and bother anyone." This last sentence was said in a grim and withdrawn voice. 

He leaned against the wall, running a hand through his hair. 

"No one... Hurts my friends. That's the rule that's most important to me. And if they do, I make em' wish they never crawled out from under their damn rock. And then I beat em' with it." His face was a half-snarl, and he seemed to look inwardly, contemplating the action. 

"I don't have many friends, most of them are gone now. Those I do have are more important to me than anythin'." 

"Th-that's... very loyal. You're a lot like Rainbow Dash." 

"We seemed to... hehe... get along well enough when we first met. She's stubborn like me, at least from what I've seen. I'm definitely not as cocky as her, figuratively of course..." 

He laughed nervously at this, unintentionally making another dirty reference. 

"Well... I'll get the bath started." 

"Sure. I'll just um... not sit on these couches." 

As Fluttershy walked out of the room, Dylan remembered the night. He remembered the running, the words he spoke to Gilda, the blood, and finally, the fire. Where had the fire come from? He looked at his hands. 

What the fuck am I?

> Chapter 7- The Kill
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"The Other Side" Chapter 7- The Kill.

What the fuck am I?

That's what echoed in Dylan's head as he stood there waiting for Fluttershy to finish preparing the bath. He could smell a sweet aroma coming from the bathroom. It was like a cool spring breeze; refreshing, chilling and subtle at the same time. He brushed his fingers along the skin of his chest. It felt grimy, dirty and it was caked with blood in some places. His bandages were dirty as well. The cloth was stained red, and the grime from his skin had rubbed onto it. Falling into a forest, passing out on the ground, working for hours and fighting a griffon in the same day tend to make someone dirty. He felt dirty as well; What he had done last night still haunted him, as did a strange feeling lurking in the back of his mind. The feeling was like a dull hum of energy, giving him strange feelings and urges which he could not explain. He felt it was as if he wanted to do something, but he didn't, if that made any sense. He couldn't explain most of the feelings, but he knew he had wanted to kick that rabbit clean through the kitchen window. He probably would have shouted "It's good!" As much as he didn't like being bullied, he hated bullies more. He wasn't about to become what he hated. 

He walked to a small table with various small objects. One of these was a framed picture. He picked it up and looked closer at the photograph. He now wondered whether ponies had cameras. The photograph was of a small yellow pegasus and a red earth pony stallion. They appeared to be playing together on a hill. He knew that the pegasus was Fluttershy, and assumed the stallion must've been her father. They were both smiling contentedly, their faces open with cheerful laughter. Dylan put the picture back down, a single tear forming in the corner of his eye. 

Both dead. Mine are both dead. I'm... I... 

He couldn't seem to organize his thoughts, and they seemed to congregate in a jumble of wild emotion and vague memories. He held his face in his hands, shaking noiselessly. His nails dug into his scalp, sending needles of pain racing through his nervous system. He didn't care. The physical pain was nothing compared to the mental, the emotional, the spiritual. He felt as if he would fall to his knees there on the floor and weep. He wanted to, but he couldn't. He had to be strong, if not for himself, then for her. When everyone else had abandoned him, left him, ignored him, she had cared for him. 

She didn't even know me. She didn't know what I... what I had done... what I had become. She helped me without knowing. And you... YOU... You would sit there and cry? NO. I will stand. I will not give up. He gave up. He hurt his own family... his own wife... I will not be weak like him. I will be strong. Strong... for her. 

His thoughts were put to rest for the moment when Fluttershy returned to the main room. A cloud of mist followed her from the bathroom, floating lazily through the air. It was relaxing, and the feeling of cool moisture on his skin started to relax his tense, aching muscles. 

"The bath is ready." 

Fluttershy looked at Dylan, whose face was still determined and full of passion. His mental conversation with himself had been strongly felt, and it left him looking grimly set on accomplishing some unknown goal. Dylan tended to look like that quite a lot, as he was not at all adept at hiding his feelings. He would rather let them come flooding out than bottle them up inside. 

"Are... you okay? You look worried." this shook Dylan rudely back into the present moment. 

"I'm fine. Thank you for doing all of this. So far, I still owe you one." 

"What?"

"Remember? I saved you from the manticore, then you brought me back to your home, and now you've saved me again. That's two for you and one for me, if I'm not mistaken."

"Oh! You don't... need to repay me, it's not a problem... I mean... Unless you want to, that is. Now, you need to go have that bath. You're filthy!"

Dylan smiled at that, shaking his head from side to side. 

"You're just saying that." He winked jokingly, then shrugged his shoulders. "That's just me, babe." the last word was chuckled. He rolled his eyes in mock embarrassment. 

Fluttershy just blushed. 

"Um... O-okay... babe." 

She tried to force a friendly smile, but it was hard. She was embarrassed, and she knew it. Her wings shot out, rigid and stiff with excitement. 

"Uh... what's with the wings? Something wrong?" 

Dylan looked puzzled. He was now running a hand through his beard, the scratching noises caused by this made it evident that Dylan was completely in need of a wash. 

"N-no! I mean... um... everything's normal! Yeah!" 

Fluttershy was trying to hide her face now, which was as red as a beet. 

How the fuck can ponies blush through fur, anyways? Once again, screw logic.

Dylan though that as he stepped closer to Fluttershy, reaching out a hand. 

"Naw, somethin's up." 

He brushed his hand gently along one of Fluttershy's wings, careful not to hurt her. The feathers felt like silk, presenting almost no resistance to Dylan's touch. They were possibly the softest things he had ever touched. The limbs that supported the feathers, however, were taut and rigid, stuck in place. 

"Wow... they're really soft... and hard. Uh, you okay?" 

Fluttershy recoiled, trying to suppress a sigh of contentment. 

"Aah! Don't touch them!" 

"Gah! Did I hurt you?" 

Fluttershy looked even more flustered, and she had crossed her back legs. She jumped back slightly, trying to avoid Dylan's touch. 

"N-no! No. T-they're... sensitive..." 

Dylan looked puzzled, one of his thick eyebrows raising in curiosity. 

"Sensitive? How sensitive, and... sensitive in what way?" 

Fluttershy's face now looked as if it was on fire. 

"U-uh... um... V-very s-s-sensitive... in w-wh-" 

Her sentence stopped when she realized the look on Dylan's face. It was of embarrassment, disbelief and a quiet satisfaction. 

"They're not... oh... shit... I... didn't mean to... uh... fuck... uh...Wow. I um, hope that uh... damn it... sorry, sorry, sorry! I have to have that bath now!" 

He had his hands over his crotch again, and for good reason. Sufficed to say- although unintentionally on Dylan's part - Fluttershy's wings weren't the only thing becoming more rigid. He sprinted for the bathroom and slammed the door shut as soon as he was inside. Fluttershy was too stunned to speak, her jaws wide enough to -unbelievably- fit a basketball between them. She stared at the bathroom door for a minute, then ran upstairs to her bedroom, her hooves clicking on the wood floor. 

Dylan's mind was again almost unintelligible. 

Oh shit... shitshitshitshitshit. I just touched... what the fuck?! She just took me in, and now... damn! You're blowing it Dylan.

Another voice in his mind spoke up. 

You're going to lose her. 

Dylan's face twisted in anger. 

No. No I'm not. She saved my life. She cares about me. She wouldn't just kick me out for that! 

The voice spoke again. Yes, she would. You've been rejected and shunned so many times before for so, so, so much less. Be careful. 

Dylan snarled at himself, honestly believing these thoughts were his own. He was disgusted, at the memories of lost friends, and at the same time, his own thoughts. 

No. She wouldn't. She... wouldn't do that.

Dylan tried to quell his dissenting thoughts, to block out the nagging sense of undeserved guilt that was gnawing on his brain like a blood-drenched steak. He walked slowly over to the bathtub, looking at its hot, steamy waters. It was made of wood, with iron bracings securing it together. He stepped over the rim, gingerly placing his foot to the water's surface. It was hot, but comfortably so. He sighed with pleasure, placing his leg fully into the water. He lifted his other leg up and over the side of the tub, placing it in the water as well. He clutched the edge of the tub as he lowered himself slowly into the bath, moaning softly as he felt the warmness spread throughout his body. He let his arms hang from the sides of the bathtub, as if he was too tired to hold them up. He squinted sharply as he felt a stinging pain in his arm. He had cut himself on a splinter, and blood was trickling out of the cut flesh. He stared at the small red droplet intently. His eyes rolled into the back of his head as he remembered something. Something with blood. He remembered everything about how he had killed Gilda.

*

His thoughts were transported to an open plain. It was night, and the moon was bright overhead. He could hear the sound of wind sweeping across the grasslands, their blades of green swaying and rippling like ocean waves in the moonlight. The sound of crickets chirping ceaselessly bombarded his ears. He could see where the grass had been trampled by something large. 

Gilda.

He heard the sound of his own breathing, rapid and excited, like the breathing of a predator stalking its prey. He felt the crunching and the bending of the stalks under his feet as he ran. His legs and arms pumped energetically, propelling himself ever closer to his target. 

He knew she had to die. He didn't just know it, he felt it. With every fibre of his being he wanted her dead. He wanted to smash her into a hundred broken pieces. He knew he would kill her no matter what she said, no matter how she pleaded. She had done the stupidest thing in her entire life: She had hurt those who Dylan loved. She would regret the day she was born. She would know how she had failed, how she had made the worst decision of her life. He would make sure that she knew. He would write out the message in her blood. He would kill her. Nothing would stop him. If the Devil himself had stood in his way, he felt as if he would kill him too. It was a powerful feeling. It was just as strong as how he felt when his mother had died. He would have fought God himself for the right to his vengeance, such was the power of the rage he felt inside.

The smell of blood and fear crept into Dylan's nostrils. He knew he was getting close. He didn't know how he could smell what he did, but it didn't matter, he only cared about one thing: Gilda's death. He crept up silently along the side of a small hill, his body low to the ground. He was hunched over, his head lower than his shoulders, his feet wide behind him. He knew the griffon was stronger, faster, could fly, and knew the land better than him. But he was smarter, more determined, the better fighter, and full of burning rage. He didn't have the slightest fear in his mind that he would die. He could feel the pure rightness of the power surging through his soul.

He looked eagerly over the top of the hill, searching the dark for his enemy with bloodshot eyes. He saw her in the moonlight, her white feathers strikingly alien when compared to the green and brown of the landscape. Dylan's black clothing blended his shape with the dark, unlike Gilda's feathers. She was limping, walking on three legs, similar to how a wounded dog walks. Her fur and her pinioned were both soaked in blood; mostly Dylan's. Gilda looked angry, and he could tell she was thinking about him. He smiled darkly. It was more a look of pure unadulterated malice than one of amusement or happiness. His teeth shone in the dark, their pearl-like faces sparkling in the moon's beautiful light. His deep ocean-blue eyes were pointed straight at the wounded Gilda, full of ire and vengeance. They were half-closed in a killing stare, as if the eyes themselves could destroy their target just by staring hard enough. 

His muscles flexed and tightened as he stood up from his crouch and walked confidently towards Gilda, his hands curling into claws. He shrugged his shoulders, rolling his arms forward with murderous expectation. He could almost taste the blood in the air. It was sweet like wine. Its scent only drove him further into his desire for brutal violence. His footsteps were heard by Gilda, who turned and stared in shock. She spoke, but it would make no difference to her survival. He listened, but only with a passing interest; he knew what he was there to do. He tossed his clothes to the ground carelessly, which made a slight rustling noise as they touched the grass. 

His mind filled to the brim with four words. Four words that burned with the surest certainty and the greatest belief that he could muster. Four words which would chill his prey to her very soul, black as it was. "I CHANGED MY MIND." 

His body exploded with pain as he felt it change. He felt his bones grow and twist, his muscles harden and writhe, his blood boil. Most importantly, he felt the fire. He felt the rage physically manifesting itself into the world. He knew he wasn't human, not any more. 

He leaped through the air with his bladelike claws splayed out before him. Gilda's scream was met with sharpened points, which dug into her sides like hooked knives. She tried desperately to claw at Dylan, but he slammed an elbow into the side of her skull, snarling like the animal he appeared to be. She writhed in pain, her wails of agony only strengthening Dylan's desire for her demise. He slashed with a clawed hand at her face. The wickedly edged blades ripped jagged holes in the feathered flesh of Gilda's cheek. One of the claws dragged across her beak with a screech, leaving a deep scar. He swung his other claw for her injured leg. He wanted this to last. The crack of shattering bone followed the strike, echoing in Gilda's ears like a gunshot. 

The bone jutted out of her skin, covered in her blood and pieces of flesh. She was in so much pain that her scream seemed more like a groan, ragged and unbearable. She scratched him across the face, cutting thin marks into his fiery canine head. He bled, but it was not like blood. It would have looked like napalm, had a human described it. His blood was on fire, burning viciously hot as it splattered on Gilda. It burned her. It burned so hotly that she could hear the fizzling, popping noise of her flesh cooking. He swung his fists wildly at Gilda, furious at the new wounds she had given him. They slammed into her with the strength of several men, cracking bones and bruising muscles. He battered her mercilessly, beating her to the ground under a tirade of blows. The feelings of impact in his hands made his smile widen, the sheer visceral physicality of the fight filling him with savage glee.
Gilda whimpered and squealed with each blow, trying desperately to escape. 

As he watched Gilda try to crawl away pathetically, he laughed. It sounded like it came from a pit, full of darkness and hate. He stomped on both of her hind legs with bone-crushing force. They snapped like twigs. She screamed again, the desperate cry piercing the night air like a knife. She was twitching and trying to reach with her one good arm, continuing to try and pull herself forward. Dylan's canine form bent low to breathe on Gilda's neck, sparks and flames licking at her flesh gleefully as they poured from his open jaws. He snapped his teeth down on her uninjured arm, twisting and shaking his head back and forth. He could feel her meat rip between his teeth, and he could taste the succulence of her body on his tongue. She continued to wail as he picked her up by her waist with both hands, looking into her eyes. The terror in her eyes was complete, the unimaginable horror staring into her very soul shattering her mind like glass. He chomped down on her shoulder and pulled, tearing off chunks of muscle and skin and tendon with rabid enthusiasm. She sprayed blood all over the ground, the demonic hellhound biting her flesh like an oversized, living steak. He worried and rent the griffon's flesh with little resistance, as it was hard to fight back with four wrecked limbs. 

She bit Dylan's neck, her beak slicing awkwardly into his throat. He roared with bloodthirsty rage as more burning blood covered Gilda and the already soaked ground. The grass was burning fiercely, the sickly smoke rising from it disappearing into the night. He threw her to the ground and braced both of his feet on her shoulders. He bent low and bit furiously at her chest, trying to rip the skin off of her ribs. She screamed, but it was so strangled that it could be barely recognized as her voice. He looked up at her face again and grinned. He placed both of his hands under her head, their fingers cradling it in a iron-like embrace. She stared at him in disbelief. The stare didn't stop when he pulled, roaring a cry of fury so powerful that it echoed across the plains. She heard and felt the vertebrae in her neck pop and crack. Her were nerves on fire, sending unimaginable pain shooting through her mind like a bolt of lightning. He continued to pull, snarling and howling like a mad dog. She didn't feel anything anymore... not in this world, at least. He knew she would burn, writhe in the fires of hell itself. Gilda stopped moving suddenly.  It was unmistakably clear why. The splattering, ripping noise coming from between Dylan's hands was like a beautiful song to him. Gilda's head was literally ripped loose from her shoulders, with arteries, tendons and all still attached to her head. Blood literally sprayed like a fountain from her open neck, drowning the ground in red. Her spine was ripped with her head, the nerves still jutting from the vertebrae. The whole of it was thick and coated with blood, and Dylan licked at it with a burning tongue. He raised Gilda's desecrated head above his own, howling with the righteous, perfect fire of vengeance burning in his heart. He bent back down and feasted, ripping Gilda's body to shreds. His howls continued until he was finished.

* 

Dylan blinked, the memories he had just experienced had made him perfectly still. He looked down at the water of the bath, again seeing his reflection. It was ablaze, and it's canine head was smiling insanely. He looked back up, closed his eyes, and leaned back.
He let the waters relax him, if he could even feel relaxed after what he had just recalled.

AUTHOR'S NOTE
Gory enough for ya?
;3 

Some of you wanted this, and now you have it. Gilda's death in its bloody glory. Simply to say: If you hurt Dylan's friends, you're dead.

And Metall Kant, Tanning will be introduced, don't you worry.
> Chapter 8- A Late Welcome
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"The Other Side" Chapter 8- A Late Welcome

Fluttershy was in her room. She was trembling with excitement and confusion. Fluttershy talked to herself quietly, whispering from behind her locked bedroom door. 

"He... he... I... can't believe it! Why did he touch my wing? He probably doesn't know... Oh, this is... I don't know what this is! He probably didn't know what he was doing... he was just curious. Yeah, that's it. Now what do I do? Do I tell him?" 

What Fluttershy was trying to decide was whether or not to tell him the significance of touching her wing. In pegasus culture, it was among the most intimate of gestures, usually only performed by... mates. It was a romantic and sensual gesture, only done in the most private and consensual of times. The feeling it caused wasn't quite sexual, but it caused a kind of warm, cloudy pleasure to wash over the recipient's body. 

Fluttershy was still feeling Dylan's hand on her wing. She was reveling in the ecstasy still coursing through her like a warm tide. She thought it was strange that Dylan ran right after he touched her. She was intrigued as to what had caused him to rush to the bathroom so quickly. She hadn't seen when he covered himself, but she had her suspicions. 

"I... should tell him! But what if he takes it the wrong way? What if it drives him away? Ohhhhhhhh, this isn't good. It's bad. Very, very bad. I just met him... and if I tell him what touching my wing actually means... Cud!" 

Once again, Fluttershy swore. It was not characteristic of her, but she was different when she was alone. Even she was surprised at her foul language. 

"Oh my. Where did that come from?" 

Fluttershy pawed at the floor with one of her hooves, staring sheepishly at the ground. 

After a few moments, she took a deep breath and unlocked the door. The click of the lock's mechanism felt unusually loud in her ears. It wasn't only the sound of the door unlocking that seemed sharper and clearer; everything felt as if it was being experienced at twice the intensity. She turned the doorknob with a quivering hoof, slowly pushing the door open. She leaned around the corner of the door and looked down the stairs, listening intently. She didn't hear Dylan. In fact, she heard almost nothing. The only sounds she perceived were her own quick breathing, the creak of the wood under her feet, and the groan of the door opening. It was as if the whole house was still. 

Normally, birds were singing and chirping, pigs were snorting, and her animals were starting their morning routines. This morning, however, there was only complete silence. The quiet was unnatural, as if something had hushed all life nearby. She put her hoof on the staircase's guardrail and descended slowly, the sound of her steps echoing like thunder in her mind. 

"D-Dylan? H-h-hello? Are you finished with your bath?" No one answered. 

She walked slowly towards the bathroom. Steam was still creeping under the door, reaching out like cold amorphous fingers. Fluttershy breathed heavily, reaching for the bathroom door with a trembling hoof. She almost collapsed under the sheer amount of adrenaline in her system. Her knees buckled halfway, the uncontrollable tension in her muscles sapping her strength. She took a hold of the door's handle and pulled herself upwards, trying to steady herself on weak legs. When she got up into a standing position, she swallowed nervously. The combination of her strange feelings for Dylan, her fear of rejection, and the waves of pleasure rolling over her senses made it hard to speak. 

"D-Dylan! Are you done in there? C-can I... come in?" Once again, no reply. 

She heard the sound of steadily dripping water and a faint breathing, but that was all. 

She slowly opened the door, inch by inch. What she saw was Dylan's back, as he was facing away from her. It was scarred and covered in hard muscle from his countless fights, a testament to his vicious reputation back home. She crept forward, step by step. Time seemed to slow as she walked, images blurring and twisting as if they were distorted by heat. She moved, but it took all of her energy to do so. She reached towards his shoulder, trying to lay her hoof on it to get his attention. As she moved to touch him, she saw something in the corner of her eye, reflected in the water. Time seemed to stand still. 

She didn't see what it was, but only the smallest sliver of an image; Fire... fire and a pair of burning eyes glaring at her. They seemed to look through everything that was Fluttershy. They bore through flesh, through bone, and into the very essence of who she was. Her soul trembled as what felt like fire washed over her skin. 

Fluttershy couldn't speak. It was as if her lips were made of lead. She simply stared at the water for the half of a second that the image burned itself into the water. It disappeared, changing into the reflection of Dylan's haggard face. The reflection turned. Dylan was now looking into Fluttershy's eyes. The look in his was one of emptiness; His eyes were full of death, and a cold certainty. He blinked and the look was gone. It was replaced a gaze brimming with compassion.

The fear he saw in Fluttershy's eyes almost made Dylan cry. His mouth opened, parting to let forth words full of concern. 

"What is it, Fluttershy? Why are you afraid?" 

She stared at him for a few seconds with her jaw wide open before answering. 

"N-no reason. I... I must be hallucinating. The nightmares I was having last night must have something to do with it. A-are you done with your bath?" 

Dylan's forehead creased as he answered her the next question, "Yeah. How's about we have that wine now?" 

Dylan hauled himself upwards to the edge of the tub, then swiveled to face her. He looked at Fluttershy's face, which was blushing again. He grabbed a towel from the wall and wrapped it around his waist. He felt up and down his arms and back, trying to determine if he was truly clean. Despite the amount of filth he had accumulated the day before, he had washed most of it off. 

"Um... Its only the a-afternoon... I-Isn't it a little early to be d-d-drinking?" 

Dylan looked at her with chilling knowingness. 

"We need it now. I can tell." 

He turned and walked over to the bathroom window, looking through the portal out into the world beyond. 

So much joy, so much peace, so much... purity. I can't begin to comprehend what would happen if this world became like mine... I wish it could stay like this... but now I'm not so sure it will... Blood speaks louder than words. I can feel the death in the air.

"O-okay. Are you coming?" 

Fluttershy was tilting her head, thinking intently. What is he thinking about? And what did I see? It was... horrible... 

Dylan rubbed his eyebrows with his pointer finger and thumb, then turned around. 

"Yes. Just forget about whatever's making you upset. I'm here. I won't let anything hurt you. I told you, remember?" 

He breathed out, as if he was trying to push the darkness out of his chest. The sound of animals resumed, and the world seemed alive again. 

"I... I do. Thank you. Now, let's drink."

*

They were halfway through the bottle of wine, laughing and talking like old friends. The two of them told stories about their lives, but Dylan had to withhold many of his, as they were too dark. 

"So, this one guy comes up to me and asks 'Hey, kid. You got a light?'. I turn and look at him, then I say 'Yeah, what about it?'. He says 'Light me up.' I smile and whip out a flashlight, then turn it on in his face. He gets angry, 'Why, you little punk!' I smile and say to him, 'Naw. I'm more into metal.' I ran away laughing." 

Fluttershy giggled, then looked confused for a moment. 

"What else would he need a light for?" 

"Smokes."

"Smokes?" 

"Oh... You don't have them here, I take it?"

"I have no idea what they are." 

Dylan scratched his thick beard, trying to think of an answer. 

"Hmm... well..." 

Suddenly a strange thought popped into his head. 

Are ponies... they must be... only one way to find out... besides, I don't think she'd like the idea of smokes, anyways. That chick with the rainbow hair might, though. Back to business...

"What is it? Why are you taking so long to think about it?" 

Dylan now grinned like a complete idiot, the alcohol in his system making him giddy and impulsive. His eyes lit up with mischief and glee, looking straight at Fluttershy. 

"Um... Dylan... why are you looking at me like... tha-" 

Her sentence was cut short as Dylan launched himself towards her, his arms outstretched. He grabbed her, wrapping his arms around her torso. 

At first, Fluttershy's eyes filled with surprise and shock. They quickly were filled with uncontrollable joy and amusement, as did her voice. The reason for this was what Dylan was doing with his hands. He was tickling Fluttershy playfully, his fingers twitching and skittering along Fluttershy's soft belly. 

She was giggling and squirming frantically, trying to escape from Dylan's hands. She was enjoying it immensely, and it took her mind off of her current stressful thoughts. 

Dylan was snickering between his teeth, spasming in wild the wild throes of his drunken hilarity. He was thoroughly entertained as well, and he felt like a young child again. What he would have given to gain back his childhood... The most of it was pleasant and uneventful, a haze of warm and comforting moments wrapping around his mind gently, like a warm fog. 

Some of it however... Was a dark and maddening pit of memories best left forgotten. He had tried to throw them out of his mind before, but with little success. They always came back, bringing with them their images and sounds of arguments... of fighting... of violence... and most importantly... of rage.

His father had never seen his own anger in him, rather believing his son to be calm and passive. He was completely and utterly wrong. Where his father had let his anger pour forth like a faucet, constant and predictable, Dylan had done something completely different. He had let his anger grow and strengthen inside him, feeding it thoughts and feelings of violence, of hatred and of rage. His rage was constantly being twisted and worked inside him; A living weapon, forever poised and readied to strike. When he chose to let it explode forth, destruction and death were right there with it.

Dylan's peaceful, kind beginnings as a child had matured him into what he was; He was a warrior. 

Some men say that a warrior does not seek war, he strives to prevent it. Dylan knew how much of a lie that really was. One did not simply train and forge one's mind into a machine of violence to simply ignore its very purpose... 

Man has made itself into a being of war; without it, man grows weak and loses its will to defend its beliefs. War, and the warrior... that was what man was.

War was part of man since the beginning. Ever since he first denied his master... his creator... in the Garden of Eden... Ever since he shed his fellow man's blood... Ever since family turned against family, clan against clan, nation against nation... Man has known nothing but war, and will know nothing else while we still live in this mortal world. 

All these thoughts and memories fell upon Dylan's mind, even in this most wholesome of moments.

His laughter could not be brought back to him at this moment, for he was too absorbed in his own thoughts to continue with his merriment. This particular train of thought happened across his brain often enough, and the solution was simple. More wine.

He stopped his hands, pulling them back to his sides with a sigh. He then sat down on the couch, reaching for the wineglass as he leaned his head forwards to stare down into the red liquid.

"Dylan... Why did you stop? Is... is something on your mind?" 

He bit his lip thoughtfully, then wrapped his fingers around the glass. He raised it up to his eyes, where he stared at it for a moment. He said his next words from the back of his throat. 

"Old memories. But not old enough to die yet. Nothin' ya' wanna hear about." 

He drank the glassful of wine in one quick throw, swallowing only once. 

He pressed his lips together tightly in reluctance as Fluttershy asked her next question. 

"Why wouldn't I want to hear about it?" 

Fluttershy looked like she sincerely cared, her eyes full of maternal goodwill towards Dylan. 

"Well... It has to do with why I fight so much. You see, my father wasn't much of a father at all. He yelled, he complained, and he fought. He fought with people at work, at the bar, on the street, and... My mother and myself." 

Fluttershy stared at Dylan, feeling a deep sympathy for him, and a revulsion for his father. 

"He couldn't stay calm for more than an hour before blowin' up about something, or someone... He'd push me and and my mother around, because to him, we weren't important. He was the man of the house; no one told him what to do. He more or less... did nothing. He'd tell my mom to do all sorts a' things that he shoulda done himself. When my mother would tell him how tired she was, or how she didn't have the time to do it, he'd get mad again... Real mad. He'd break things, he'd swear, he'd yell, he'd walk right up to her and strut like he was the almighty himself. She'd normally try and avoid his... anger... but the last time... well, she stood up to him. He was seriously mad, and he didn't like that defiance from her. Didn't like it one bit." 

His muscles tightened, tensing as if he was about to get in a fight. In his head, he was. Dylan looked like he was going to smash the table in front of him to splinters. His face took on a grim look, and he poured himself another glass of wine. He was well inebriated by now, and he spoke easily, the words coming to him of their own accord. 

"Wh-what d-did he d-do?" 

Fluttershy's face was a mask of worry and fearful anticipation. She trembled lightly in her seat, ignoring the glass of blood red wine clutched between her hooves. She had her eyes frozen on him, waiting for an answer with nervous light shining in her eyes.

"He killed her. Right there in our house, right in front of me. I'm glad my brother didn't see him do it. But that isn't the end. Not... even... close." 

Dylan looked to his yellow friend, who was now a sickly pale shade of her former self. He saw her wide-open mouth, her terrified eyes... he knew how much fear she must have felt in her heart. He felt a small spark of regret for telling her this dark part of his past. 

He raised the glass up to his lips, but moved it away. 

"Then... then I sent him straight to hell. Killed him, even though he begged me not to. Coward. Always knew he was. The truth is, if there had been a way for him to make amends... to repent... I wouldn't ever want him to. I'd sell my soul to make sure that bastard burned for eternity. There wasn't anything I wanted more in my entire life. Not... one... damn... thing...."

Dylan drank, the wine appearing like blood as a trail of it ran down his chin into his beard. 

It might as well've been his father's blood he was drinking in that moment, because as he did, he realized Fluttershy had dropped her glass on the floor. It had shattered, and the wine had pooled out between the shards of glass. 

It looked exactly like that night. The glass and blood scattered around his father in a corona of destruction looked almost identical to the wine and glass on the floor of Fluttershy's cottage. 

Fluttershy was wholly horrified, and she was now quaking on her couch, staring at Dylan. Dylan was smiling, oddly enough. It was a smile of evil, a smile of murderous glee. But he cried at the same time, his tears dripping to the floor almost silently.

"I... I... I'm... S-sor-" "No. You have nothing to be sorry about. It's my past, it's not your fault. I shouldn't have told you... but you should know, this story was the nightmare I had after I passed out last night. I hope this doesn't make your nightmares worse."

Dylan stopped staring at the ironic and familiar sight on the floor and looked up at Fluttershy's fear-filled cyan eyes. 

"I-it... it won't... That is horrible. I... didn't know." 

"How could you? There's no way you could've. I just hope you understand how bad life in my world is. Things like that happen every day... every hour... every minute..." 

The true darkness of the prospect finally sunk in to Fluttershy. 

"How do you keep on living?" Dylan thought about this for a moment. A melancholy smile parted his lips as he found his answer. "We're all already dead."

*

The day had passed with a fair amount of tension afterwards, but the two of them managed to agree on needing to get outside. While Fluttershy tended to her animals, Dylan had gathered up what he could find of his clothes and carried them outside. He stood there with them folded in his arms.

"I think I need these fixed. Either that, or new ones altogether. The coat, jacket and shoes will probably be fine, though." 

Fluttershy turned from a sick beaver she was treating to look back at Dylan. She looked dissapointed and relieved at the same time. 

"That's too bad." 

"Too... bad?" 

Dylan had confusion in his voice as he contemplated the pegasus' words. Fluttershy looked embarrassed for a moment, but then answered somewhat confidently, "Um... You just got them. It's... too bad they got wrecked so quickly. Yes! That's what I meant." 

"Oh... Okay..." 

Dylan didn't look completely convinced, but he seemed satisfied enough. The real reason for Fluttershy's answer was thus: She liked seeing him with his clothes off.

It took a few minutes for Fluttershy to finish caring for her animals, but  when she did, she was quick to run over to Dylan. 

"You ready to go?" Dylan said with a sideways glance, resting his hands on his hips. 

"Yes. I need to buy some things in town."

"And I need to pick up my cash, n' uh... gessum' new clothshes." 

"Sure. But... um... when you're... finished, go to Sugarcube Corner... that is... if you want to, I mean."

Fluttershy looked slightly nervous at this, and she glanced down at her hooves shyly. Dylan quirked an eyebrow, smiling reassuringly. 

"Ah, s'no problem. I'll go. But Fluttershy..." Dylan spoke to her with a serious tone in his voice. "Please, don't tell anyone what we talked about. I... I trust you. I'm jus' not sure I want yer' friends to know my past jus' yet." 

He was drunk, he knew that much. But he wasn't drunk enough not to think straight. 

"Now come on, off we goes! To Poneeefilllll! Yessir! We're walkin' ta' Peonyvale! Err, wait..." Scratch that. He was that drunk. 

"Freedom!!!" Dylan charged down the road, carrying any imaginary flag and sword. For some reason, he had just thought of the movie Braveheart. He loved that fucking movie. "Mel Gibshen... IIIIIII've gat' cher' back! Hehehe. Ya' hairy crazy man, yeh. Yesh. Down wif' da' engleeesh! Huzzah! Fer' Shcotlund! Come on, ya' tea drinkin' panshies! We're hairy n' mean n' we're bigger'n all of ya! We're moonin' ye, you crook-toothed wusses! FREEEEEEEEDOM!" 

Dylan stumbled and lurched down the road, spitting insults at imaginary foes. Fluttershy simply giggled and followed after him, she herself swaying gently back and forth.

It was only around six o'clock when the pair wandered into town. Dylan received quite a few surprised glances and amused looks from ponies on the streets, along with some disapproving ones. 

"Whatsat? Yer' all ponies! Ahahaha. I loves poniesh... I wuvs em', I does. Ther' shorter'n horshes, but der' cuter! Hehehe... Ah... I'm so drunk. Ahoy! Island ho! That's me port in th' starm', bay'." 

His accent was now a slurred Newfoundlander, as if he was a sailor traversing treacherous waters. He was stumbling towards the Carousel Boutique, wearing nothing but a loosely wrapped towel hanging on his waist and a pair of shoes. He walked up to the front porch, but tripped on the edge and fell face first into the wooden planks. 

"Arrrgh! We be landin'!" 

He slowly picked himself up and rubbed his stinging face. He looked completely haggard and unshaven, despite being reasonably clean. This was not how one should look when entering Rarity's place of business. He literally fell half against the front door, and opened it clumsily. 

"Oh my! Are you all right, Dylan?" Rarity looked at the drunken redhead with deep concern. 

She was in the middle of sewing a dress together, but she looked up immediately when Dylan bumped loudly into her front door. 

"Aye, Cap'n highpansch! We're fit fer' fine weather! Cept' I'm in need uf' sum' new fasshen schtatemints."

"Sweet Celestia! Are you drunk?! Yes! You are! What happened to your clothes?! Where'd you get alcohol?" 

Rarity looked completely shocked. The high-class fashion pony was not used to having inebriated persons in her shop. 

"One questchin' at a time, M'lady, I'm not moving' with all sails, ya know. Drunk I'm yes. Vodka and me drank Fluttershy together! Wait... That's na' right... It was Whiskey an' me! No... Ah! Wine an ' me." 

"WHAT?! YOU AND FLUTTERSHY WERE DRINKING TOGETHER?! WHERE?!" Rarity's yelling shook the room, and she appeared very, very angry. Her horn was glowing faintly, casting purplish light around the front of the boutique. 

"Hey, calm down Ruritee! Itsch dokey okey! We was at House's Fluttershy." 

"FLUTTERSHY'S HOUSE! WHAT DID YOU DO?!" The white unicorn tackled the much larger human with ease, as he was off balance and uncoordinated. Dylan grunted drunkenly as he slammed heavily to the floor. Rarity sat atop him, pinning him to the ground. She was glaring at him with a searing look of indignation, baring her perfectly polished white teeth. 

"Hey. What wush' tha' fer'? Wait... ya' like meh dontcha Raritree? I shee how it ish." 

Dylan smiled like an idiot, his voice practically dripping with humorous glee. Apparently, it wasn't funny to Rarity, as a hoof slapped him roughly in the face. He sat there stunned for a second, and then his face was full of rage. 

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO FLUTTERSHY?" 

Rarity boomed again. He stood up with no effort at all, his muscular bulk lifting the indigo-maned pony with ease. He held her up with his hands under her front legs, as if she were a child. 

"DO NOT HIT ME." 

His voice was deep and authoritative, and his teeth were flashed in a gesture of dominance. Rarity simply looked at him with wide eyes, too surprised to speak. 

"I WOULD NEVER HURT HER. NEVER FORGET THAT." 

His voice changed back to one of slurred drunkenness. 

"She's mah' best mate! She lifed my save! Twicely! We jus' talked bout' stuff, and then we walkie-doodled the way down ere' to Po-poland! Ponyton? Ponyshire? I'm so drunk..." 

Dylan put Rarity down gently, putting his face in his hands and rubbing it vigorously. 

"Pull yourself together, Dylan. C'mon... Ah! Yes. The clothes! Here, lemme jus' pay-" 

Dylan reached for a nonexistent wallet, then remembered he should've went to Applejack's first. "Oh. Forgot to pick up mah' moolah from Applebutt's. Heh heh. Applebutt's. HAW HAW HAW HAW! Ahh....." 

Rarity had been trying to compose herself while Dylan went on. She was now relatively calm, and she began to speak. 

"D-Dylan... Are you sure you're alright? How much wine did you have?" 

Dylan counted on his fingers awkwardly, his eyes gazing upwards as he thought with a large amount of effort. 

"Well, lessee... Fluttershy had about three glasshes... And I had about... Shix." 

"Six! How're you still walking?!" 

"How're you walking? You're the one with four legs. That'sch gotta be hard fer' ya' to walk, seeing as ya've got two too many! Hahahahaha! Oh, uh. About my clothes... Did Applejack Daniels tell you what happened?" 

"AppleWHAT? Yes, Applejack told me you got in a fight with that barbaric ruffian Gilda."

"Ah. She tell you ah' won?" 

"Along those lines, yes. Now, I can't have you drunk and half naked here in my boutique. I'll fix your clothes up for you, free of charge." 

The clothes in question were lying on the ground, after they had been knocked out of Dylan's hand when Rarity tackled him. 

"Oh my! Are these... Burn marks?!"

"Wha- Ah. Yeah." 

"How did that happen?!"


"I have no idea." He, as a matter of fact, did. But telling someone you burst into flames and murdered someone with your bare hands was a surefire way to get sent straight to the nearest mental hospital. 

"Well, that is completely bizarre." 

"Life is pizzeria... I mean Byzantium. Shit... Bizarre. Yeah, that's the ticket." 

Rarity was holding the clothes up before her with magic, surveying the damage. 

"What happened to the pants and shirt?" 

"Toasted. JAM!!!! PEANUT BUTTER!!!!" 

Rarity stared at him incredulously for a moment, then shook her head and walked into the back room. 

"Such a peculiar creature..." 

Rarity whispered this to herself as she crept into the workroom. 

"I prefer gentleman, your highness. My hat's off to you." 

He reached up to the top of his head, and finding it bare except for his short-cropped hair, squinted his eyes in suspicion.

"Already off. Hmm..." 

He now looked along the floor of the shop, searching for his imaginary hat with a look of intense seriousness. 

"My hat... My hat... Wherefore art thou, hat? Dost thy hide behind Lady Rarity's curtains?" 

"DON'T TOUCH MY CURTAINS!!!" 

Rarity remembered what happened to the last curtains the human touched. 

"Aww... I'll get you, Mr. Hat!!! I'll get you, if it's the last thing I do!!! After I get some pants..."

Dylan's drunken antics continued for some time before he received his repaired clothes, along with some replacement pants and a shirt. Rarity made sure he was out of her shop immediately after getting dressed.

He stumbled his way to Sweet Apple Acres, passing by the Town Hall and one extremely confused looking old mare. She wore a pair of glasses and had her mane done up in a professional manner. She was the mayor. Upon seeing the inebriated Caucasian man pass by the town hall, she promptly asked what he was doing. 

"Hello, there. I don't think we've met. I'm the mayor of Ponyville. What are you doing out here looking so... rough?" 

"I'm takin' a stroll ta' see mah' good friend Jackapples... Wait... Pappjelack... Uhhh... Snappleback? Bapjackle? OH YEAH! Applejack Daniels!" 

"Oh... My... Well you take care of yourself... Mr?" 

"MacLauchlan. But just call me Dilly- uh... Dylan!" 

"Alright, Dylan. Hmm... Have you been-" 

"Yeah, a lot. You gots no idea, Mrs. President." 

"Mayor."

"Sure thing, your Majesty." 

"I'm no queen... But thank you, I'm flattered."

"You look relativamally shapely-like. Don't look like you've bin' flattened at all."

"Oh, no no. That's 'flattened', dear." 

"Oh. You're welcome for the complacent!"

"What? Are you sure you're okay, Mr-... Dylan?"

"I most certainly do play croquet. Would you like to play sometime?" 

"Oh, why- You're not yourself, are you?" 

"A'course I am, Lady Prime Minister. I's me, an' I knows it. Absolution." 

"Uh... Have a wonderful night, Dylan." 

"What?! A thunderbolt?! I didn't hear anything!" 

"O....K...." 

"Croquet again? No, I have to get some Applejacks cereal. Wait... Damn... Gotta go see Jack Sparrow... Wait... Grr... Damn you, brain. You work for me, remember! Oh! You want a raise? I don't remember you showing up for work yesterday! What?! Yes, I do have a meeting tomorrow! No. No. No. Chipotle! For a tea party?! You cad! Come at me, sir!"

Dylan was now boxing an imaginary opponent, and the mayor took this opportunity to run home. 

"Good night!" 

"Bye, Duchess! Take that! And... Wait... We've gotta pick up the celery... Wait... No." 

Dylan looked around suspiciously. 

"Ponies don't use celery for money! They use lettuce! Hey! Of course I'm sure! You traitor! I threw you an office party! Come on, let's get to Snapplecracks... Dammit, brain. Applejack, here I come." 

Dylan finally came up to the farm's gate, walking slowly and surely, -albeit disorderly- towards his destination. The apple trees swayed in the evening winds, rustling gracefully in the half-dark. He unlatched the gate and skipped merrily towards the house, tripping multiple times on the way. The whole way there he sang off key, his voice groggy and his words slurred. 

"Old' MacDonald had a farm! Eeyai eeyai o! And a restaurant chain... On this farm he had a duck! Eeyai eeyai o! Wabbit season! Duck season! Wabbit season! Duck season! Wabbit season! Wabbit season! Duck season! And that's final! Boom! Hahaha... Looney Toons... Eeyai eeyai o! Ha ha... I love Bugs Bunny... What a bugger! Hehehehe. Oh! The song! On his farm he had a... Pony! Hey Big Mac! Wait..... Old MacDonald had a Big Mac!...." 

Dylan smiled like he had discovered the greatest thing in the universe, taking a deep breath.

"....I got nothin'..... Howdy dere', Big Mac! Buckin' all those fine young mares, yet? Hehehehe... I'm off to get laid! Wait... Paid... CURSE YOU MR. BRAIN! Sunday brunch is off!" 

Big Macintosh simply stared as Dylan skipped by. 

"...Eeyup..." 

Dylan walked up the porch steps, holding the rail tightly as he ascended. Once he reached the front door, he looked at his hand. He had drawn a watch on it with a marker he had borrowed from Rarity when she wasn't looking. 

"Hmm... It's... It's..." 

He stared at the fake timepiece for a moment. 

"IT'S CLOBBERING' TIME! Wait... Fuck me... Adventure time! Shit... Copyrights... Hmm... Epic mea-... Bacon strips... Mmmmmmmmmmm.... Dammit Mr. Brain, I will knife you in your sleep. Wait..................... You're a Pisces... Knives don't work on you... Damn. Oh! The time! Lunch time? Killin' time? Sexy time? Oh yeah!!! Money time..." 

Dylan smiled, looking like a complete imbecile now. He knocked on the door, grinning to himself. 

"Money money money money money!" 

Applejack opened the door, not realizing who it was standing on her porch for a moment. Her face was one of worry and deep melancholy. She looked like she had been up all of last night. When she did notice, her face lit up like a Christmas tree. She squeezed Dylan in an affectionate hug, squealing with joy, which was uncharacteristic of her. 

"Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou! I'm so glad you're OK!" 

She was crying, the tears running down her face like rivers. Dylan had to work hard to get a word out because her embrace was so tightly wrapped around his chest. 

"I'm h-happy to s-see you too! Wh-why w-wouldn't I be? OK, that is." 

Dylan looked like he was in a moderate bit of pain, but the alcohol numbed it somewhat. Applejack wiped her tears away before answering. 

"A-after ya left... Ah' realized how badly y'all were hurt! I was stupid ta' let y'all just run off like that! I thought you wouldn't come back!" She was staring at him with guilt written all over her face in wrinkles. She was exhausted, and her eyes were red from crying. "Ah' ran out after you, but Ah'... I jus' couldn't find you... I'm sorry." 

She began crying again, fresh sobs and shakes rocking her body. 

"Hey, hey... I'm fine. Don't you worry bout' ol' Dylan. Fluttershy patched me up. I almost bit the dust, but she fixed me up just in time." 

"Oh, thank goodness." 

"Twice now that little angel saved my life."

"So... You've been at her house?" 

"Yeah, why?" "Is that... Liquor I smell on yer' breath?" 

She broke the hug, stepping back slightly. 

"Uh-huh. We had a few drinks." 

"Alone?! Are you crazy?! Y'all don't know what could happen with the two of you drunk outta yer' heads!" 

Dylan thought about it for a second. He knew he couldn't live with himself if something were to happen to Fluttershy, even though he just met her. That didn't seem important when considered next to what she'd done for him. And what he'd done for her. 

"I wouldn't be able to live on if I... Hurt her... Or... Well... You know... I just... I'd probably kill myself before I let something like that happen to her..." 

"Don't say that!" She looked at him, considering his words with utter shock. Her sense of telling people's honesty was second to none. Even drunk, she could see that he cared for her and that his words were truthful. 

"I... believe you, sugar... Thank you fer' doin' that fer' me last night. It was... Mighty honorable of ya." 

She smiled at him, patting his shoulder with a hoof. 

"Is there anythin' I kin' do fer' ya?" 

Dylan grinned. 

"You got that pay that I... postponed yesterday?" 

Applejack nodded, obviously happy he had remembered. 

"Hold on a minnit'. Y'all can come inside, hon'. Ah' don't want you catchin' cold, now." 

"Where I come from, this is as hot as it gets. I mean, hothothothothot. Tobuscus." 

"What?" 

"Nuffin'." 

"Oh. Um... Okay then." 

Applejack and Dylan walked inside. Dylan closed the door behind them, wiping his shoes on the doormat as he walked deeper towards the interior of the house. He could immediately smell that baking and food preparation had occurred recently. The aroma of baking apples and cinnamon made his tongue stick comically from between his lips. He was drooling, and he realized how hungry he was. His stomach commented on his hunger with a low growl. All he had eaten this day was that hell-sent oatmeal. Thinking about the slop almost made him lose the large appetite he was feeling like a knot in his guts. 

"Baking again? Anythin' I can have? Om nom nom nom..." 

Applejack shook her head emphatically. 

"Sorry, sugar. That's fer' a... special occasion." 

"Oh? What's that? A... party?"

"Erm... Uh... Did you say tarty? I was making tarts! Apple tarts, that is." 

Applejack glanced frantically around the room, sweating nervously. She smiled sheepishly as she searched for a way to escape. 

"I... Ah... Here! Meet Granny Smith!" 

"Whuh? What're you doin', missy? I was watching mah' stories!"

"Say hello, this is Dylan. He's our new farmhand." 

"New farmhand..." 

Dylan smiled. He thought it was just a one-time job, just some odd work to make it by another day. Apparently Applejack liked him enough to keep him around. 

"Ah' gotta go get somethin', Dylan! Ah'll Be right back, y'hear!" 

Applejack disappeared in a flurry of movement, running out of the room with commendable speed. 

"So uh... You're Applejack's grandmother? I bet you've had this farm quite a long time." 

"Yessir! I've been 'ere since Ponyville was founded! I tell ya', makin' this town was hard work. There was crops to plant, an' buildings t' construct, an' ponies t' take care of! Come to think of it-" 

At this moment, Granny Smith's head fell forwards and she began snoring. Loudly. Dylan waved a hand in front of the old farming mare's face, checking to see if she was awake. She was out like a rock. 

He shrugged and looked around the living room. There were some pieces of furniture, including a coffee table -If ponies even drank coffee- a rocking chair, and a couch. There were also rows upon rows of family pictures hanging from the walls. There were dozens of faces, each belonging to a different family member. 

Dylan's family was never so large, and definitely never as closely-knit as the Apple family seemed to be. He felt a twinge of loneliness, and he pulled his arms around himself, staring at the pictures and shaking his head. He turned when he heard Applejack come up behind him. His eyebrows raised and his jaw slackened slightly at what he saw. Applejack was carrying a giant bag of gold coins. He had never had more than one small piece of gold jewelry on him at one time. This bag was literally filled to the brim with pounds of gold. He was utterly astonished. 

"B-b-but that's gold! I just worked here for one day! I-I can't possibly deserve this. I ca-"

"After fightin' off Gilda last night, an' helpin' keep mah' lil' sis safe, I think you deserve a lot more'n this. It's the least Ah could do, sugar." She walked up to Dylan and placed the bag in his hands with her hooves. She winked playfully. 

"Jus' don't spend it all in one place, y'hear." 

Applejack grinned joyfully, her green eyes radiating gratitude at the speechless man before her. 

"Uh. I... I won't. Spend it all in one place... Wow... How does an apple farm make so much money?"

Applejack scratched her neck with a hoof, trying to look modest. 

"Well... We do have the best darn apples in all a' Equestria... And some of the hardest workers..." 

She looked at Granny Smith and snickered to herself. 

"Oh. Well I guess that does makes sense. But... who exactly is in charge of the farm?" 

Applejack tried to look proud, puffing out her chest and standing straighter. 

"That'd be me! Granny Smith supervises over the Zap Apples, and Big Mac is Mah' right hand stallion... Even if he is a few spokes short of a wheel sometimes." 

Applejack snickered again, shaking her head at her brother's simple way of thinking. 

"Now, Dylan, Ah need you ta' accept this gift a' mine. If not for you, then for me. Can ya' do that, hon?" 

Dylan felt the weight of the burlap bag in his hands, considering for barely half a second. 

"For you, no problem. I'll make sure to buy you somethin' nice. Like maybe some earplugs..." 

Dylan smiled as he looked at the loudly snoring Granny Smith. 

"Aaah... The banshee wail! Hahaha. Oh! I've got to get to Sugarsnap Cafe or something... Wait... Sugarcube Corner!" 

Applejack's face lit up with a mixture of dawning realization and worried panic. 

"Uhm... Ah' gotta go, seeya!" 

Applejack ran out the front door ahead of Dylan. She grabbed a cart full of sweet smelling treats as she darted past him. She nearly knocked him over in her rush to get outside. Dylan stumbled slightly as she bumped into his side, spitting out a low curse. 

"Asscrackers!" 

Applejack half-turned to apologize, but didn't slow down at all. Her southern drawl was barely recognizable over the sound of Dylan's curse. 

"Ah'm mighty sorry bout' that, sugarcube!" 

She ran off the farm to leave Dylan stumbling slowly after her. He stuffed the bag of coins into his coat before he began to run after his blond-maned employer. 

It was pitch black by the time he walked up to Sugarcube Corner. It wasn't much of a problem to him, as he excelled and cherished the nightlife. He still felt the effects of the earlier alcohol, but to a lesser extent. 

"I can see em'... You bloody Twi-hards sitting' there in the dark with your disgusting emo soft porn! Mary Sue! Mary Sue! I call foul on lack of good characterization, shitty monsters, and a lame-ass love story! And I haven't even read the book! Damn emos... Oh, and don't forget about the soccer moms. Go team BEDWORD. Go team JAYKUM. Durrrrr... 'Look at me me, Jacob, Bella's pregnant!' 'How the fuck does that even make any sense?! You're dead! You're a spermless white trash emo poser! Now, excuse me while I take my shirt off and stand her for ten minutes. Oh, and your unborn baby turns me on for some reason.' 'WHY?!' 'It's in my contract, sparkledick.' 'Up yours, you flea-ridden boyband lovin' punk nudist!' HahahahahahahHAHAHAHAHA! God, I hate those cartoons." 

He gave a dopey look as he said that last sentence.

Dylan lurched up to Sugarcube Corner, which was completely dark. No lights were on at all, and the windows' blinds were shut. He stood at the door, scratched his beard, and knocked. 

"It's the pizza guy!" Dylan shouted.

"Oh boy! I love pizza!" The voice was obviously Pinkie Pie's. 

"Quiet, Pinkie! We didn't order any pizza!" This was Rainbow Dash's raspy tomboyish voice, which sounded slightly annoyed at Pinkie. 

"It's getting cold!" Dylan said, shifting his stance.

The door swung open with a flash of light, blinding Dylan before he could shield his eyes. 

"SURPRISE!" and "AHH FUCK! MY EYES!" were both yelled simultaneously. 

Dylan stumbled backwards and faceplanted into a patio table. He slammed his nose into the table hard, and the inwards pain shot up into his brain immediately. 

"Fuck! By dose!" Dylan was holding his stinging face in his hands, and his voice was distorted because of the pain. 

"My goodness! Dylan! Are you okay?" Rarity spoke up, raising a hoof to her mouth in shock.

"Fuckin' son of a third-rate transvestite prostitute, this hurts like a bitch!" 

"Uh... I don't think he is." Rainbow Dash said with a hint of frustration at the obvious question. 

"Oh! I'm sorry! We were just trying to surprise you." Twilight's voice sounded regretful and slightly shocked. 

"I think ya' did. Ow! Tits! Shit! Balls! My nose is hurtin' like a sunnavabitch." 

"Dylan! Come here, let me take a look at that. It's okay, I won't hurt you." 

Fluttershy calmly took Dylan by the cheeks and looked at his nose, which was slightly off to one side. "Oh! I... Uh... Your nose is broken, Dylan. Don't panic." 

"Really? Oh. Hold on a sec. Just like in the movies..." 

Dylan took his chin in one hand and his nose in the other. He twisted his nose back in the right direction with one smooth motion. A sickly snappin and popping sound was heard loudly by all present. 

"GAH FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!!!! Shit! That really fuckin' hurt. D-damn it!" 

Dylan's nose was back into its normal orientation, but it was red, blood flowing to it readily. 

"You ready to partaaaaaay?!" Pinkie Pie squealed excitedly, bouncing like a jackrabbit on coffee. 

"Shit. Yeah. I'm gonna need more booze after this... Mishap... ME BOTTLE O' SCRUMPY! OW! FUCK! MY NOSE AGAIN!"
> Chapter 9- Nightlife
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"The Other Side" Chapter 9- Nightlife

"Your bottle of whatnow?" Pinkie Pie seemed like she was genuinely interested. She raised an eyebrow curiously, her teeth shining in one of her trademark smiles. If she had been smiling any harder, her face would have ripped in half. 

"Shcrumpeh," Dylan slurred, a goofy grin spreading across his thickly bearded face. 
He shrugged just as if it was the simplest thing to understand in the world. "Yeh know... Hooch? Boosch? A-Alchamerhaul? Nuffin'? Wait... s' tha' a cek? Cuzzif thass a cek... I'm gurna et it. Mmm... Cek. I luffs cek! S' not a lie dammit! Jus' an Eashtur egg.." 

Dylan rambled on aimlessly for a moment before Rainbow Dash spoke. 

"What the hay is this guy saying?!" The light blue pegasus' face was quirked in a look of incomprehension. "Is he-" 

"YESH I'M DRUNK YA WALKIN' WEATHER PATTERN! Don't get yer' uh... wait... Poniesh dun wear underpansch... yeh dun really wear much... wait... Yer' all nekkid!" At this, the inebriated redhead burst into a fit of deep, boisterous laughter. 

Pinkie Pie chuckled, Fluttershy blushed, and the rest just rolled their eyes. 

"Come on, we need to get you indoors," Twilight Sparkle said with a small smile. 

Fluttershy quietly urged Dylan to do the same. 

"We don't want you catching cold..." 

He looked at her for a moment. "Woman, this ain't cold. Coldsch when mah' hairy-ass nuts start growin' icicles. Thass cold. This... This is American weather. They got it sooooooo nice. Frickin' 'mericans.. Come up t' Cananananada an' they'll turn red white and blue fer' sure... Hehehe... Blue... Such a funny word... Blueblueblueblueblueblueblue... Hehehehe..." 

Dylan walked inside, taking off his coat and folding it over his arm. 

"That cake looks delicious. Demolitions. What? Demolitions?! Where?! THEY'RE GONNA BLOW UP THE CAKE! EVERYONE GET DOWN!" 

Dylan dropped to the floor and covered his ears. His eyes were squeezed shut tightly, and his teeth were gritted. 

"Leave the cake alone! It's Mr. Brain that you want! Damn you Mr. Brain! Damn you! You know I wanted to pack my bomb defusal kit to happy funny pony land, and you told me to pack the sandwiches! What good are sandwiches now?! You stupid stupid stupid organ! You're stupider than Mr. Tonsils! Don't. Get. Me. Started. On. Mr. Tonsils... Wait... The cake hasn't blown up?" 

Everyone was snickering except for Pinkie Pie, who was attempting to break the sound barrier with her laugh. 

"Damn you, Mr. Brain. Damn you." 

"Come on, let's eat, sugar." Applejack lay her hoof on Dylan's shoulder, still snickering. "After a few drinks, yer' kinda like Pinkie." 

"Whazzat supposed to mean, Applejack? I brought my bomb defusal kit... and my portal gun," Pinkie Pie said, completely serious.  

"What in Equestria is a portal gun?" Rarity's question only made Pinkie's next answer even more confusing. 

"It's an Aperture Science Handheld Portal Device, silly! You see-" 

Pinkie Pie explained the workings of the device, to the complete confusion of everyone else present, excluding Dylan. Dylan was listening intently, his attention fully fixed on Pinkie Pie. 

"How do yeh know all this?" Dylan asked, truly interested. 

Pinkie Pie grinned, putting her hands on her hooves with pride. "GLaDOS told me after I baked her a cake!" 

"B-but... That's a video game!" 

"And we're a TV show. What's your point?" 

"What?! The fuck are you talking about?"

"Nevermind. Chuckles! Get back on track, or I will kick your furry ass back to Canada!" 

What the fuck... I didn't write that...

"CHUCKLES! NOW!" 

OhshitohshitohshitohshitohSHIT. I knew this day would come. Initiating fourth wall defense system. ALL SYSTEMS GOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Pinkie screamed, twitching for a second before returning to normal. 

"What the fuck just happened to Pinkie?" Dylan's eyes were completely wide. 

"TIME FOR CAKE, EVERYPONY! Yay!" 

"I'm not a pony! I get no cake!" 

"What? Of course you get cake!"

"I don't have hooves, a tail, a mane, or four legs. According to you, it is not my allotted cake time." 

Pinkie sighed, shaking her head. "Fine. Cake time everybody!" 

"Hoooo yeah. Cake ti-" Before Dylan could finish his sentence, he barely had time to notice the blur of motion streaking towards his face. The next thing he saw was the inside of a pink, wet mouth. Something had clamped itself around his head, and was sucking on his face. "OH FFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUCK! I seen this movie! Get this fucking thing offa me! It's gonna lay eggs in my stomach!!!! Aaaaaaaaah!!! CUNTMUFFINS!!!!!!!" Dylan's voice was muffled by the green amphibian's mouth that was firmly gripping his face. He thrashed and ran around the room like a madman, knocking into tables and kitchen appliances. He was frantically trying to dislodge his attacker from his cranium, pulling with all of his might. "SAVE ME RIPLEY! SAVE MEEEEEEEEEEEEE! I AIN'T HOSTING NO ALIEN BABIES!" 

Pinkie Pie was laughing uncontrollably, rolling around on the floor, along with the rest of the ponies, except for Fluttershy, who looked genuinely concerned. She gave her friends an angry withering stare, her eyes full of disgust. They flinched, then looked down at their hooves, realizing how insensitive they were being. Dylan was genuinely terrified. Something attempting to eat your face would do that to somebody. With a roar, Dylan ripped Gummy from his head and threw him violently away from him. Gummy landed harmlessly in a tub of flour nearby. 

Dylan looked like he was about to kill something. His face was covered in sticky saliva, and his hair was no longer neat, but disheveled and unruly. He picked up a nearby rolling pin and glanced around, holding the implement like a baseball bat. He spied the flour-covered alligator and immediately shouted out a battle cry. "DADDY NEEDS A NEW PAIR OF BOOTS!" He ran towards Gummy with his rolling pin above his head. He was about to pulverize the scaly face-eater when suddenly Fluttershy jumped between them. 

"Stop!" 

He was so shocked and so determined not to hit her that he literally threw himself out of the way. He slammed to the floor and rolled a few feet before stopping. He groaned in pain before trying to stand. He slowly rose, the rolling pin still clutched in one hand. 

"What do you think you're doing?!" Fluttershy yelled this into Dylan's slime-covered face. He did not seem pleased. 

"I'M TRYING TO KILL THE DAMN THING THAT TRIED TO EAT MY FACE!" He spat this, grinding his teeth in agitation. He was now standing fully, and he towered over the Butter-colored pegasus. 

"That's Pinkie's pet! You can't just kill it!" 

"She keeps a crocodile as a pet?!" 

"ALLIGATOR!" Pinkie's interruption momentarily stunned the two, who looked at the obviously crazy pink pony for a moment before continuing. 

"Yes. Now stop trying to kill him! He's just a baby!"

"A baby killing machine!"

"He doesn't know any better!"

"That doesn't change any-" 

The alligator now made his way towards them, who turned and looked at him. He sat at Dylan's feet, staring up at him with pleading blue eyes. 

"See! He's apologiz-" 

Gummy shot upwards towards Dylan's face again, jaws open wide. 

"FUCKNUTS!" Dylan yelled as he swung the rolling pin, his muscles tensing as his brought the rolling pin directly into... Gummy's jaws. The alligator clamped onto the pin with a wet thuck. 

"HE TRIED TO EAT MY FACE! AGAIN!" He swung the pin frantically, eagerly trying to remove his toothless adversary. "Get off! Git! Dang varmint! Leggo a' my eggo! Shit! I mean rolling pin!" 

"Oh... I guess he wasn't apologizing..." 

Pinkie Pie began laughing again, holding her sides as she giggled raucously. "Get him Gummy! Get him! Eat his face!" 

"STOP ENCOURAGING THE LITTLE BASTARD!" 

After a minute of this, Dylan sagged noticeably, his energy depleted. Gummy looked tired as well. Both of them collapsed to the ground wordlessly. Dylan kicked the fiesty alligator away with a tired leg as he tried to devour his shoes. "Can we... Have... That... Cake... Now?" Dylan panted, barely able to speak over his exhaustion. "I could eat a hors- HORSERADISH! Yeah! Horseradish!" He chuckled nervously. 

They finally settled down for cake, much to Dylan's delight. The disgusting oatmeal was all he had eaten that day, and that was in the morning. Needless to say, he was hungrier than he had been in a long time. His family hadn't been poor, but the atmosphere was. Every day felt like a war against his father's hurtful words, his laziness, and how disgusting he truly was. He was glad his father was dead. He was even more pleased that he had killed him. But for the moment, he simply wanted to eat. A lot of his "drunkenness" was just him trying to be funny, to act stupid or to make people laugh. Most of it anyways... 

Pinkie Pie set a plateful of cake in front of him with a smile, "Eat up! Yum yum yum! You deserve it!" The cake was the same cake from the day before, and the words in the icing were still readable. He smiled for a second, then almost without warning began snarfing down the cake. He literally sent pieces of his slice flying across the table, eating feverishly.

The cake tasted amazing. It was one of the best cakes Dylan had ever eaten, actually. It was moist, not too sweet, and it had just the right texture. Dylan groaned in pleasure, murmuring with his mouthful of cake. 

"S' GUD! S' RLLUH GUD!" 

Rarity looked at Dylan, scoffed, and shook her head. 

"Such manners!" 

Dylan turned to her, stood, and put on his best Scottish accent. "Meh apologies, lassie. It weren't meant t' offend yeh. Aye simpleh' kinna' wait any longer!" 

Rarity raised an eyebrow, reconsidering the red haired human. "Apology accepted. But please, don't talk with your mouth full, if you will. It's quite impolite." 

"Aye. I'm sorreh'. T'wont appen' agin', yer' ladyship." He bowed somewhat comedically, then proceeded to inhale the rest of his cake. He made sure to swallow before speaking again. 

"More! Its the best cake I've ever eaten! I swear, Pinkie, my mouth is having an orgasm!" 

"It's... what?!?!" Rarity answered before Pinkie Pie could. 

"It's havin' an orgasm." 

"I... I heard the first time. Why that word?! It's hardly a word to use while eating." 

"Well... Let's see... Hmm... I lost control of my taste buds, my mouth is secreting stuff everywhere, and it feels so good." 

"Well, I never!" Rarity gasped, humphing in irritation.

Dylan mockingly raised his hand to his mouth and gasped. 

"Dear God! You've never orgasmed?!" 

He leaned in to whisper, although he knew they would all hear anyways. 

"I can help you out with that... If you like." He winked, grinning mischievously. 

Rarity gasped, her hoof slapping Dylan across the face. 

"Ow. Oh..." He grinned even wider. "You like it like that... Interesting. I never expected this from the fancy one." 

Rarity's jaw dropped and she began to splutter incoherently, trying to think of a comeback. There was a sproing sound from across the table. Everyone was laughing. Pinkie Pie and Rainbow Dash were complete maniacs, totally unable to control themselves. Applejack and Twilight were snickering quietly, trying to contain their laughter. Fluttershy had ducked under the table for some reason, but a quiet giggling could be heard from under the table. Dylan looked under the table to see what Fluttershy was doing. Apparently she was having another - for lack of a better word - 'wingboner'. Dylan raised his head from under the table, smiling again. "That. Was. Awesome!" Rainbow Dash squealed between laughs, rocking back in her chair with glee. 

"I am awesome..." Dylan stated, crossing his arms and resettling in his chair. 

After the joke at her expense, Rarity was annoyed and embarrassed at first, but now secretly found the whole thing funny, quietly snickering to herself. She smiled as she watched Applejack and Rainbow dash arm wrestling at the table. Fluttershy was quietly sitting in her chair, sipping at a cup of hot chocolate, quietly fantasizing about something. She was blushing to herself; at whatever she was thinking about. Pinkie Pie was dancing to some music with Gummy, who was moving his tail from side to side in enjoyment. Twilight was talking to Dylan, asking him more questions that she hadn't had the opportunity to before. She had her notebook and pen levitating in front of her, and she scratched down notes from time to time.

"I'll never get used to that. Never." 

"Oh, well... I could stop if you wanted."

"No. No, that's fine. It just... Weirds me out. Anyways, what's your next question?" 

"Hmm... Where are you from? In your world, that is." 

"Canada. It's cold, it's wild, and it's big. I lived in the west, on the plains. I miss the plains... So wide, so open, so... free." 

"Hmm. Okay, got it. Sounds amazing! Anything interesting about Canada?"

"Well... we're generally considered one of the nicest countries in our world. We tend to say 'sorry' to just about everything. We get made fun of quite a bit, but it's alright... We know that they're just jealous cause' we're the best country in the world."

"Alright, then. What do you like?" 

"Books." 

"Really! I'm a librarian, you know!" 

"We already went over this. I'm a writer, remember?" 

"Oh... Whoops. Hmm... How long does your species live?"

"We can live to be about a hundred, but that's rare. We usually live to be about eighty or so."

"That's a lot longer than ponies! How old are you?" 

"Eighteen. How old are you?" 

"Twenty-one. Wow... You look... Old for your age."

"Everyone tells me that. Seriously. Is it the beard? I dunno. I think it might be how I speak. People don't generally associate words of wisdom with teenagers."

"Humans must mature faster than ponies." 

"They must... How old is Fluttershy?" 

"She's twenty-two." Dylan looked like he was thinking about that for a moment. 

Four years older than me?! She doesn't seem that old...

"Next question. How many humans are there on your world?" 

"Seven billion." 

Twilight's jaw snapped open so fast that her tongue lolled out. 

"Seven billion?!"

"Yeah. We, uh... breed fast, I guess. How many ponies are there on this world?"

"Only a few million..." 

"Well that's a good thing. Overpopulation and too much resource demand is fucking up my world bigtime. Not to mention that seven billion angry people that hate each other ain't a pleasant prospect, either." 

"Wha... Wow. I guess you're right. Uh... So, what's your family like?" 

Dylan's eyes narrowed, growing dark and morose. He turned his head away from Twilight, raising a hand to shield his face. 

"I... Don't wanna talk bout' it." 

Twilight gave him a curious and excited expression. "Come on, you can tell me!" 

"I said I don't want to talk about it."

"Are you sure? I really need to lear-" 

"No." 

"Wh... Why can't you tell m-" 

His next response was a growl, and it didn't sound human. 

"NO!" 

He looked straight into her eyes as a flash of rage erupted across his features. His knuckles gripped the table so hard they turned bone-white, and his teeth were bared viciously at his equine interrogator. He stood, pushing his chair backwards with a loud creak. He leaned across the table towards Twilight, snarling like a mad dog. Everyone had turned in shock to look. Twilight herself lurched back in fear, her eyes those of a prey animal just before the hunter struck. She tried to speak clearly, but all she could do was stutter. 

"I-I-I-I d-d-didn't m-m-mean t-to u-u-upset y-you!" 

Dylan glared at her for another moment, then sat back down. He continued to watch her intently, but the rage left his eyes. 

"I... I'm sorry. Just... Don't ask about my family. Please..." 

Everyone looked shocked, but they continued their activities after a moment, except for Rainbow Dash, who got up quickly and walked up to Dylan. 

"Hey! You don't get to yell at her like that! You... You jerk!" 

Dylan's head snapped towards Rainbow Dash, and the growl came once again from his throat. He stood, towering over the rainbow-named pegasus by at least a foot. He looked straight into her eyes, glaring into the ruby-red orbs with fury in his own ocean blue ones. 

"You wanna start something?" He said this slowly and deliberately, letting his words sink in. He smiled; it was not one of happiness or amusement. "Or... Are you gonna mind your own business?" 

"Oh, it's on! Bring it two-legs!" Dylan was about to send his fist hurtling into her chin, but he felt something grab his arm. He turned, expecting Twilight to have stepped in. It wasn't Twilight. It was Fluttershy. She had her hoof on his arm, and was looking into his eyes pleadingly, the beginnings of tears forming. 

"P-please... Don't." 

He started to bring his other arm up to swing at her. Dylan was about to growl again, but his heart lurched in his chest. The fury drained from him, like poison from a wound. His face stared in What... What was I about to do? Oh... Oh... God... He  shook her hoof from his arm and sprinted out of Sugarcube Corner. He barely stopped to open the door. 

He ran through the streets of Ponyville, dodging around frightened residents, who were taking their nightly strolls. He barely registered them, giving only one thing his unmitigated focus: GETTING AWAY FROM HER. GET AWAY! GET AWAY! RUN! You... You... It's... What... What am... I? His every muscle ached, screaming in protest; at his rapid movement, and what he had almost done. 

He was out of town within a minute, panting and shaking at the top of a hill overlooking the town below. He stared at the lights below, at the townsfolk unknowingly living in the vicinity of... 

A monster... That's what I am... That's... That's what I am. I'm a monster. A MONSTER! 

There was a tree on the top of the hill, and he turned to it with a snarl. He struck out at it, his scream of anguish breaking the silence of the night. His first blow simply bruised his hand, cutting jagged lines into his flesh. He yelled again, saliva flying from between his open teeth. The second sent several pieces of bark pirouetting into the darkness. He bellowed, the tendons in his neck tensing and bulging at the sides of his throat. The third sent a web of cracks shooting up and down the treetrunk. He roared as loud as he could, his human lungs warping and twisting into something... inhuman. His fourth punch literally split the tree in half, the top half fell backwards down the hill, the sound of cracking branches and rustling leaves filling the air. He stood and panted, staring in shock at the two halves of the tree. Dylan's heart seemed to skip a beat.

 I AM.

He looked down at his hands. The flesh was torn and ragged, exposing the flesh beneath. He felt broken bones, ripped muscles, torn tendons. He watched them all form back into place. Skin knitted back together, bone fused as if it had never broken... It was as if it had never happened. He stared intently at his hands, turning them over to inspect them; They were perfectly healed. 

He quickly threw off his coat, jacket and shirt. He could feel the cool night air wash across his battle-scarred skin. He ripped away the bandages to see the unbelievable happen once again; his wounds regenerated before his very eyes. Flesh grew where none should have, the cells multiplying impossibly. He stood there frozen for a moment. 

He looked up into the sky, searching for something. Something urged him, commanded him to look, to find it. He saw it; The moon. He took a breath, deep and long, then released it forcefully. He howled. He howled like a beast, pouring forth his emotion towards the beautifully pure whiteness of the moon. He slowly looked back down towards the town below. He redressed himself and headed back towards the town. He knew what he was now, and he had accepted it.

Fluttershy was miserable. After Dylan had stormed out, she had explained that Dylan didn't want to talk about his family. 'Did he tell you?' Rainbow Dash had asked. Fluttershy told her she had, but that she was the only one Dylan had wanted to tell. Rainbow Dash pushed and prodded, but Applejack defended Fluttershy and Dylan. She was still extremely grateful for what he had done. After a while, Rainbow Dash became silent. Twilight felt horrible for pushing him too hard, trying to ask Dylan a question he didn't want to answer.

Everyone was feeling terrible by the time the door to Sugarcube Corner opened again. When it did, Dylan stepped through, looking completely calm. 

"I'm sorry." 

Everyone jumped at the sound of his voice, turning to stare at him. His hands were dripping blood on the floor. "Y-you're bleeding!" Twilight stated, pointing a hoof towards his hands. 

"Oh my gosh! You... You hurt yourself! Let me help!" Fluttershy was no longer miserable, but concerned. It took only moments for her to fly over to Dylan and examine his hands. She found no wounds, only blood. "N-no cuts?!" 

"Huh? I didn't realize there was still blood on my hands." 

"From what?" 

"Oh. I had a few cuts." 

"That's a lotta blood fer' a few cuts, hun," Applejack spoke up, trying to make sense of the situation.

"That's horrid! You simply must tell us what happened, darling!" Rarity's statement was answered almost immediately. 

"I had to vent my anger on something... It's better than someone." He looked at Rainbow Dash irritatedly for a moment; she backed away and hung her head in shame. 

"I... I didn't know that... Twilight was bugging you. I just thought-"

"Don't jump to conclusions. It's all right now, but don't do that again." 

"Are you okay? Are you sure you don't need cheering up?" Pinkie Pie quirked her head, gazing at Dylan with a knowing look. 

"I could use some cheering up, yeah. How about... Rainbow Dash arm-wrestles me?" Rainbow Dash looked incredulous for a second, then eager. 

"Don't you mean hoof-wrestle?" 

"Do you see any hooves?" Dylan stretched out his arms, turning them in front of her. 

"I... No... You think you can beat me?" 

"Yeah. I just gotta wash my hands." 

He washed off the blood, then sat back down at the table. He faced his opponent. The lithe, well-toned cyan pegasus looked cocky. 

No one beats me at this... No one. He doesn't stand a chance. Rainbow Dash thought confidently.

Dylan reached out his arm, bracing his elbow on the table. Rainbow Dash extended her hoof, a smile stretching across her face. 

"Ready?"

She barely took a second to answer, "I'm always ready!" 

Dylan grinned, grasping her hoof in his calloused fingers. 

"Alright. On three. One... Two.. Three..." Rainbow Dash immediately began to flex her foreleg, pushing against Dylan's grip. His arm stood completely still. Rainbow Dash's hoof was trembling, shaking under the massive effort she was putting into pushing her opponent's arm down. She looked up at his face as she continued to strain. She saw that he was smiling. There wasn't a single drop of sweat on his forehead. His grin grew larger, and he gestured with his chin towards himself. 

"Come on. That all ya got? I thought you were 'always ready'? Should we do this another time?" 

"Nnngh... No! I haven't even started yet! And you're not even trying!" 

"Oh?" Dylan smirked, then winked at the weathermare. He threw her arm down so quickly and so forcefully that she rolled out of her seat and fell to the floor with a thump. Everyone watching looked dumbstruck; They were completely silent. "Trying now?" 

She looked furious. 

"Y-you... You cheated!"

"How?" Dylan shrugged, raising his hands up into the air as if asking the Divine. "How'd I cheat?" 

Rainbow Dash mulled this over for a moment, biting her lip in desperation. 

"Y... You put something in my cake!"

"What?! So... I put something in your cake... Even though it was baked when I was unconscious in a hospital? Even though I didn't plan to arm wrestle you? And even though I didn't know what slice of cake I was gonna get?" 

"Uhh..." 

"I guess I won fairly." 

"Well butter me up an' call me a biskit'! He actually won!" Applejack sounded surprised but pleased. 

"Nugget, biscuit, nugget in a biscuit!" 

"Pardon?"

"Dip it all in mashed potatoes?" 

"Sugar, you ain't making' any sense..." 

"Dip the mashed potato covered nugget in a biscuit in the barbecue saaaaaaaaaauce! WHEEEEOOOOOO!" 

"Ya' lost me..."

"Heh. It's an Earth thing. I'm still hungry... Hey Pinkie, got any more stuff to eat?" 

"Hey! I want a rematch!" Rainbow Dash yelled, putting her arms on her hips.

"Pffft... Sore loser." Dylan grinned, crossing his arms. 

"Yep yep yepperoo! We got lots of goodies!" Pinkie Pie was bouncing happily, gesturing to a table at the back of the restaurant. 

"Sweet."

Dylan ate with a vigor that once again made Rarity cringe. Once again, he couldn't help it. Pies, cakes, doughnuts, cookies, pastries, cupcakes, danishes; all were consumed ravenously by Dylan. Pinkie Pie and the Cakes seemed very happy that Dylan liked their food so much. 

"Oh mah gawsh. Thisch id shum a' da bhest food ib ebber tashtid," he said through a full mouth. 

"Oh, why thank you dearie!" Mrs. Cake said pleasantly. 

Her husband smiled and spoke up as well. "We're glad you enjoy it!" 

Dylan swallowed, then shot an apologetic look to Rarity and mouthed I'm sorry. I forgot.. He turned back to the Cakes and smiled warmly. 

"I'd be happy t' come back again an' actually pay for it, It's definitely worth the money. I'm just glad I got something to eat; I was starting t' think my ribs'd start showin'." The Cakes smiled and nodded. 

Mrs. Cake spoke again, "We'd be happy to have you back any time, sweetie." 

"Oh oh oh! Would you like to try out my new recipe!?" Pinkie Pie seemed to almost teleport directly in front of Dylan. He jumped in his chair, twitching in surprise. 

"GAH! Uh... What's your recipe?" 

The Cakes looked concerned, staring at each other with knowing expressions. 

"You don't have to-" Mr. Cake started to say, but was cut off by the hysterical pink party pony.

"Eee! It's my superchocolatefivealarmcupcakesupreme!" 

"Five alarm... Cupcake?" 

"Oh yeah! Hot sauce! I love hot sauce! It's awesomeamazingfantastic!" 

"I like hot sauce! I crave spicy foods like crazy!" 

"Oh good! I'llberightbackwithyourfoodanditwillbesooooooooodeliciousthatyouwillgocraaaaaazy!" 

"Breathe, Pinkie. Breathe." 

Pinkie Pie returned with the cupcake. It was chocolate with chocolate icing, with a cherry on top. The whole thing was drizzled with hot sauce. Hot sauce. Dylan stared at it for a moment, then grasped it and held it up to his face. He stared at his chocolatey adversary, wondering what he had got himself into. Without hesitation, he chomped a large bite out of the cupcake. He chewed for a moment, then his eyes flew wide open and began to water. He opened his mouth wide... And began stuffing the rest of the cupcake into his mouth. He groaned, laughing between bites. A crazed look passed between Pinkie Pie and Dylan before he spoke.

"You got any more hot sauce?!" 

"Of course, silly!" She produced a large bottle from her mane. It had a large black label on it with a whit skull and crossbones, but in cartoonish style. She passed him the bottle, grinning happily. Dylan held the bottle in his hands for a moment, then twisted the lid off. Everyone thought he would pour more hot sauce onto the cupcake. They were shocked when he raised the bottle to his lips and began to chug it down. Their eyes almost popped out of their heads, except for Pinkie Pie, who would've made a good substitute for the Cheshire Cat. Dylan downed the last of the bottle, slamming it down on the table with a clunk noise. He sighed, the corners of his mouth turning upwards. 

"HAWT SAWSSSSSSSSSSSSSS! EEEEEYEEEEEEAAAAAAAAH! I put that shit on everything." Everyone except Pinkie Pie and Dylan stared on in utter amazement.

After a few minutes, Dylan migrated towards the punchbowl. He didn't really need to wash down the hot sauce; he was just thirsty. Upon arriving at said punch bowl, he took a glass from beside it and ladled spoonfuls of punch into his glass. He turned and began to walk back to his table, but stopped when he heard a large splash. 

"Hahaha! The punch has been Spiked! Again!" 

Twilight was laughing and pointing at the punchbowl, in which sat a purple lizard, who had a disappointed look on its face. 

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I don't get it..." Dylan said, scratching his neck.

Dylan walked towards the finned lizard, took a sip from his punch, and leaned in to look closer at it. "Twilight, is this your iguana? Iguaaaaaaaaanaaaaaaa! Hey! Yooooohooo!" 

"AAAAH! WHAT'RE YOU?!" 

"I iz your worst nightmare." 

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGHHHHH!" 

"Naw. Just kidding! I'm a human. "A... A... Human?" 

"Yeah. What might you be, my scaly compadre?" 

"I'm a... I'm a dragon!" 

He puffed out his chest when he said this, trying to look imposing. 

"A dragon? Hmm... Strangely enough that's not as unbelievable as talking ponies." 

"What?" 

"Nothin'." 

"Uh... What's your name?"

"I'm Dylan. Dylan MacLauchlan."

"Funny name... Dylandylandylandylandylan-" He was quickly cut off by a hand being clamped over his snout. Dylan shook his head before removing his hand. 

"That's really rude, and annoying." 

"Oh... Sorry..." 

"Your name?" 

"It's Spike!" Dylan stood there for a second, deep in thought. He ran his hand through his beard, his face a frown. Spike was about to ask what he was thinking, but Dylan broke out laughing. 

"HAAAAAAHAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I GET IT! But seriously... Alcohol." 

Sugarcube Corner wasn't especially known for its alcoholic beverages, so the group proceeded to migrate out of the restaurant. Spike was told by Twilight to go back to the library. 

"Awww... Why?"

"We're clubbin', ya wee lizard," Dylan smiled, playfully tousling the dragon's head-fins with a chuckle. "and I'm pretty sure you ain't old enough to drink." 

"T-Twilight! I wanna goooooo... Please?"

"Sorry, Spike. This is adults only." 

"Grr... I wish I wasn't so young..." 

"Kid, you won't be sayin' that when puberty hits... If dragon puberty is anything like human puberty..." 

"Pu-pubertree?"

"Puberty. You know, the acne, the growth spurts, the voice cracking, the attraction to the opposite sex?"

"Eww... Girls?!" 

"Uh... Yeah... Unless you float the other way, there ain't any other way to go." "What's that mean?" Twilight shot Dylan a disapproving look, to which he shrugged and scratched his neck. 

"You're telling me there's no sexy lady-dragon you've got the hots for? Nobody?" 

"I... Uh..." 

"Oh you horny little bugger! Who is she?" 

"I don't have horns..." 

"Yeah... What's with that? You an aquatic dragon? That would explain the lack of wings." 

"I don't know..."

"Wait a minute... Back to the important stuff. Who you got a crush on, lover boy?" 

"Err... Um... I..." 

"Aw, I'm just yankin' yer' chain. You don't have to tell me! Seeya, Spike." 

"Uhh... Yeah! Seeya!" Spike walked away, heading in the direction of the library.

They arrived at the club, laughing and talking amongst themselves.
The building that housed the club was large, but short, and a single line lead to the front doors of the club. At the doors stood a massively-built stallion who checked names off of a list attached to his clipboard. He was just in the act of kicking a scrawny-looking colt out of the line when they arrived at the front doors. The stallion pushed the smaller pony out of the line and turned to the group. His voice was low-pitched and grumbling, 

"Names, please..." 

"Pinkie Pie! Me and my friends have reservations!" 

"W-wait... You're Pinkie Pie! Why the hay didn't I recognize you? Go right on in." 

The ponies walked inside, Dylan following. The stallion stepped in his way before he could enter. He gave Dylan an angry look, gritting his teeth. 

"Where do you think you're going, freak?" At the last word, Dylan snarled, his hands curling into fists. 

"I'm with them." 

"You? No way. Get outta the line." 

"Make me, jackass. I'm friends with them, you know... The ones you just let in?" 

"You're a liar. I don't like liars..." The stallion snorted angrily, pawing at the ground with his hoof. 

"I'm no liar... Move." Dylan's word was a growl, rolling from deep in the back of his throat. 

"I said, GET OUTTA THE LINE FRE-" The stallion didn't finish, as he was launched three feet into the air, a handful of teeth scattering outwards from his face. He landed hard against the earth, sending clumps of dirt flying as he hit the ground. The stallion didn't get up. Dylan lowered his fist, which was pointing upwards. The uppercut he had just thrown into the doorman's jaw didn't hurt his hand at at all. He barely even felt it ache. He smirked, spat at the stallion lying on the ground, and proceeded inside. 

Inside the club, music was pounding from a network of speakers on a stage to one side of the enormous room. On the stage was Vinyl Scratch, whose DJ name was "DJ PON3". She was working a pair of turntables and bopping her head to the music. The rhythmic electronic beat pulsing from the stage was mesmerizing. Almost all of the club's occupants were bopping their heads, dancing, pumping their fists in the air, or otherwise enjoying the music. 

On the other side of the room was the bar. It was fully stocked; bottles of every alcohol imaginable  lined the shelf on the back wall. A tall black unicorn with a blue mane was the bartender. His cutie mark was a glass with a pair of ice cubes inside. He had what looked like a soul-patch on his chin. He smiled as Pinkie Pie and the others walked up to him. 

"Ah, Pinkie! How's my favorite party animal?" 

"I'm fantabutastic!" 

"Can I get you girls anything?"

"Yes please! We'll have the usual. And my new friend will have..." 

"The strongest you got." 

"Ah! A real stallion! I'll get it-" The unicorn now saw Dylan, as he had spoken to him without looking. "Uh... I'll..." 

"What?! Just cause' I'm not a pony, everyone thinks I'm some sorta freakjob or something?!" 

"Wha... No! It's just I haven't seen one of your kind before. What's your name?" Dylan warmed up somewhat, smiling and reaching out his hand. The unicorn and human shook, Dylan's jovial grin returning. 

"Dylan. Yours?"

"Top Shelf. I'll get you your drink. I just hope you can hold it back, though." 

"Oh, I can. I can." 

Top Shelf levitated a number of bottles and glasses off of the back wall. Fluttershy, Twilight and Rarity had lighter drinks, fruity cocktails and the like. Pinkie Pie had some strange colored drink that Dylan had never seen before. Applejack and Rainbow Dash had hard drinks, although not as hard as his. Top Shelf levitated a large glass of clear looking liquid towards him. 

"Vodka?" 

"Yeah. Straight from Stalliongrad." 

"St... Wait... Not Stalingrad?" 

"Uh... No." 

"Huh..." 

"Let's see if you can take it."

"How much do I owe you?" Dylan fished around in his pocket for the bag of bits, but Top Shelf shook his head. He grinned, laughing heartily. 

"I like you. First drink's on the house." 

"Thanks!" 

How the hell does anyone in this town stay in business? 

Without another thought, Dylan grabbed the glass and raised it over his head. 

"To friends." 

The six mares echoed him, raising their glasses. 

"To friends!" 

Dylan threw the vodka back like it was nothing. He gave a slight twitch, then grinned. His throat burned, and his teeth were chilled, but he enjoyed the sensation. He gave a grunt of approval and a hearty chuckle. 

"How's that?" Top Shelf looked on with a pleased expression. 

"Like I said, a real stallion." 

"Man. A real man. I'm a human." 

"Ah! So that's what you are. A real man." They smiled at each other, and Dylan reached into his pocket. He put a pair of bits in front of top shelf. 

"S'a tip."

"Thanks, man. You're all right." Top Shelf took the bits and put them into a cash register on the other side of the bar.

"Heh. Guess so." Dylan grinned, nodded at Top Shelf, and walked towards the dance floor.

After about an hour of dancing, talking and all-around partying, Dylan headed back to the bar. Pinkie Pie and Fluttershy were dancing, although Fluttershy's movements were less energetic than the pink earth pony's. Twilight, Applejack and Rarity were all chatting with Vinyl Scratch, who had taken a break and let her backup DJ play onstage. Rainbow Dash was sitting at one of the barstools, sipping on what appeared to be a glass of cola. Dylan sat down on the stool next to her. 

"Hey, why're you sittin' by yourself?" 

Rainbow Dash turned and looked at him with nervous eyes. "Oh... I was just tryin' t' think, you know." 

"I didn't see you as the contemplative type. You seem more like the 'kickin' butt and gettin' stuff done' kinda girl, er... Filly." 

"Hehe. Yeah, I guess you could say that." Her eyes twinkled with pride and she placed a hood on his arm. 

"I... Uh..." He saw now that a bottle of rum rested next to the glass of cola. "Are you... drunk?" 

"W-what makes you say that?" She wobbled in her seat, giving him a playful smile. "I'm too awesome to let a couple a'... Glasses... of... Um... Yes. I'm drunk. Whasscha problem? Neverrr talked to a drunk filleh befirr?" 

"Uh... Yeah. I'm not completely sober myself." He was right; his vision was blurry and his thoughts came slowly to him. He had drunk more than one glass of vodka, coming back for a few more drinks. His pocket felt a little lighter, but he'd get more money tomorrow, anyways. 

"How's yer... mane all those pretty colors?" 

"I was... born with thisch colorful work of artichoke on my head. Isn't it aweschum?" 

"Itsch pretty awesome... Hey, you know what? 

"What?" 

"I know all of yer' friends jobs...- REST IN PEACE, STEVE!- ... except yours. What do you do? Do you arm wrestle for a living? Cause if you do, you're doing it wrong." Dylan grinned mischievously, winking at Rainbow Dash. She hit him in the shoulder playfully, giving him a cocky look. 

"Oh, we'll have a rematch... When I... Sober... Up. Ah... Aren't the lights in here pretty?" She was looking up at the multicolored spotlights that danced around the room. They played across the crowd inside of the club;  the already colorful ponies complementing and blended beautifully with the light. 

"Yeah... Wait... What do you do? You didn't answer my question." 

"Oh... I'm in charge of Ponyville's weather." 

"COOL! You mean you make it rain and snow and shoot lightning and stuff? That's awesome." 

Rainbow Dash nodded sheepishly, slightly embarrassed at the complements. She took another sip of her rum and cola, glancing out of the corner of her eye at Dylan. 

He's... Cool... I like him...

Her thoughts made way for her to speak again. "Thanks. I am awesome, aren't I?" 

"If Chuck Norris had a pony, you'd be the one." 

"That's cool!... Who's... Chuck Norris?" 

Dylan looked reverently towards the ceiling, a look of awe on his face. "The greatest mortal man to ever live... Besides you, Jesus! You my main man, bro!" 

"Sweet. What's he good at?" 

Dylan turned to Rainbow Dash with joy and wonder. His eyes went wide with excitement and he smiled. "Everything!" Rainbow Dash's jaw dropped, and she lifted her drink up to her mouth. She took a slow sip with her straw before speaking. 

"That's..." 

"Yeah. I know. AWESOME." 

"Exactly!" The two laughed, and Rainbow Dash began to tip backwards. Her arms flailed as she realized she was going to fall. 

"Aah! Hel-" 

Dylan caught her, his arm shooting out instinctively. He pushed her back into her seat gently. She sighed, shuddering gratefully. 

"Th-thanks..." 

"No problem." 

She stared into his eyes for a moment, a warm feeling burning in her chest. 

He... Wow... 

She could barely think, her brain still recovering from the near-fall. 

At that moment, three ponies -all pegasai- walked up to the bar. They all had shaggy hair. It was so unruly that you couldn't see their eyes. 

"Well if it isn't Rainbow Crash! How are you, ya' big klutz?" 

As soon as he heard his arrogant, pompous voice, Dylan hated him. Insulting his new friend only made Dylan hate him more. 

"Yeah! What're you doing here? Shouldn't you be flying into a mountain somewhere?" The second one said. He was obviously not the leader. 

The third one patted him on the back with a hoof. "Good one!" 

Rainbow Dash shrunk towards the bar, trying to move away from them. 

"L-leave me alone, you guys..." 

"Or what? Are you gonna fall on us?" This resulted in some laughs from the trio. 

"Hey, you. The Justin Bieber lookalikes. She wants you to leave her alone."

"Ooooooh! Hey guys, Rainbow Crash's got a coltfriend! And he's a freak!" 

"I didn't realize she was like that... I thought she liked fillies!" 

"Heh, yeah. Move it, creep." The leader moved closer, motioning for Dylan to leave. 

"No. Fuck off, asshole." Dylan growled, swiveling in his stool to face the three of them. 

The leader's mouth opened in disbelief for a moment, then closed, becoming an angry frown. 

"What'd you call me?" 

"An asshole. I'd say from all that shit coming out of your ugly little mouth that I'm right." 

Rainbow Dash looked fearful now. She tugged on Dylan's sleeve, trying to get his attention. 

"Let's just go... Come on..." 

"No. I got this." Dylan got off of his stool, standing at his full hieght of 6'3". His muscles tensed and twisted under his clothing, preparing for what he was sure would happen next. 

"Hey, look! The freak is standing up for Gaybow Trash!" All three laughed at this last sentence. 

Dylan roared furiously, slamming his fist into the side of the leader's face. The pegasus literally hurtled like a rocket across the floor - at least twenty feet - and struck the wall. The other two jumped backwards. 

"Oh buck! Get him!" They both rushed him at the same time, but Dylan jumped, his powerful legs propelling him upwards and forwards. He landed directly on top of the surprised heads of his attackers. He rolled over them, coming to a rest several feet behind them. 

"What the hay?!" 

Before the one who said this could react, Dylan kicked him viciously from the rear. The face of the Pegasus slammed directly into the side of the bar. He heard teeth shattering and cartilage cracking. The other pegasus whirled and swung his hoof at Dylan, yelling angrily. The blow connected squarely with the human's face. 

He simply smiled as the blow did absolutely nothing. His attacker struck out at him again, cursing at the top of his lungs. Dylan caught his hoof, grinned malevolently, and then squeezed with all of his might. He heard bones crack. The Pegasus cried out in pain, right before Dylan pulled him close and swung his head directly towards his opponent's face. Dylan's forehead slammed into his enemy's snout, which drew another cry of pain from his victim. Immediately after headbutting him, Dylan lifted him up with both hands and threw him angrily towards a cluster of tables. There was a shatter and a crack as the wounded Pegasus crashed right on top of a table fully-laden with glasses and plates. This incited the wrath of a rather brutish-looking earth pony. He pushed the pegasus off of the table and charged at Dylan. He bellowed furiously. Dylan charged as well, roaring like an animal. He lowered his head and shoulders, preparing to slam into the large equine barreling towards him. 

What would have been expected was for the earth pony to knock the human clear across the club. What happened was entirely unexpected; The earth pony was sent flying backwards, the angry human ramming him away like he was nothing. The pony landed among even more tables, angering more club patrons. The fight was was now a full-on bar brawl. Ponies were fighting everywhere, overturning tables and sending glasses crashing to the floor. The air was filled with the sound of fighting, of breaking glass, and angry yelling. Dylan turned his attention to the leader of the trio who had insulted Rainbow Dash. 

"RRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!" Dylan's yell echoed throughout the club, his deep, low voice rising above the clamor. 

The pegasus was just beginning to stand up when Dylan kicked him in the stomach. The kick lifted him upwards, sending him crashing back down to the hard floor. Dylan slammed his foot down on the downed pegasus repeatedly, yelling with each strike. The pegasus was crying and screaming for help, trying desperately to get away. His friend - the one who had been kicked into the bar- ran towards the two. His face was bleeding badly, and his teeth were cracked. His face looked like a jigsaw puzzle. He kicked Dylan in the back, who stumbled over the pony he was kicking on the floor. He fell to the ground, grunting out a curse. "Bastard!" He rolled away from the broken-faced pony, barely evading a sharp kick to the top of his head. He spun to his feet, his foot whipping around horizontally. It snapped across the face of his attacker, breaking even more teeth. Before he could react, the pegasus found himself flipping backwards. He struck his head against the floor, unconscious. Dylan's punch had taken one of his opponents out of the fight. 

Where is the other one? 

Dylan's thoughts were answered when he barely ducked under a chair being swung towards his head. The one he had been kicking on the ground had picked up one of the club's chairs and was now wielding it like a club against Dylan. He dodged it the first time, but the second swing struck him in the chest. Pain shot through his head as he felt his ribs cracking. He lurched backwards, growling at his attacker. 

He was about to strike back, but the remaining pegasus -who had been thrown into a table- rose and ran towards him. Dylan was so focused on the leader that he didn't see his other opponent coming towards him. He was brandishing a switchblade, and he planned to stick the knife deep into Dylan's guts. Just before he could, a multi-colored blur streaked towards him. A half-full bottle of rum crushed his jaw with a sickly snapping noise. He fell to the floor, blood pooling from his mouth. Rainbow Dash brandished the her bottle of rum angrily, holding the bottle by its neck. The leader saw his friend drop to the floor, his face twisting into a mask of horror. This distraction was enough for Dylan to send his foot brutally up into the pegasus' crotch. A disgusting /pop/ was clearly heard. The pegasus' head shot upwards, giving a clear view of his eyes; they were full of indescribable pain. His mouth opened wide to let forth a scream, but his wailing was cut short by a human fist striking him on the nose. It was followed by at least half a dozen more. 

The pegasus had dropped the chair and was now being pinned against the club wall. Punch after punch sprayed blood in every direction. His face shot from side to side with each punch, twisting and turning painfully. His face was a bruised, bloody wreck. He had lost most of his teeth, along with a fair portion of skin and fur on his face. Dylan pummeled the stallion against the wall, throwing punch after punch like a machine. 

"NO ONE... FUCKS... WITH... MY... FRIENDS!" Each pause was another blow rocketing into the pegasus' face.

The stallion collapsed, sliding to floor. His eyes had rolled back into his head, and his tongue hung from between what remained of his teeth. Dylan panted, shaking and holding himself up against the wall. 

"Dylan! Let's go! We can't stay here!" 

He turned and looked at the light blue mare, a fulfilled look on his face. 

"All... All right." 

They both ran out of the club. There were screaming ponies everywhere, and fights had broken out even outside. Dylan gave a vicious kick to the face of the doorman, who was just waking up. He fell back to the dirt with a groan. He wouldn't wake up for a while. Dylan and Rainbow Dash disappeared into the night, not looking back to the mayhem they had left behind. 

> Chapter 10- Mayhem's Aftermath
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"The Other Side" Chapter 10- Mayhem's Aftermath 

Dylan and Rainbow Dash barely stopped to check behind them. When they did, they saw the others fleeing the chaotic establishment, darting between fighting and running patrons. They looked quite distressed; Fluttershy and Rarity most of all. They rapidly caught up with Dylan and RD, panting with effort. 

"What the hay's goin' on?" Applejack said in a bewildered tone. "One minnit' everypony's dancin', and the next they're all fightin' each other!" 

"It was... It was horrible..." Fluttershy shuddered, looking at the ground with shock on her face. 

"Those ruffians wouldn't know how to be civilized if you beat them over the head with a book about etiquette! Rarity scoffed, tilting her chin upwards. 

"I don't think fights like this have broken out many times before... Well, not in Ponyville at least..." Twilight looked nervous, scanning around for any threats. 

"Uh... we should get outta here. Ya' know?" Rainbow Dash spoke up, trying to get her friends to follow her. 

"Yeah. Shit's not over yet. We're right next to the fucking club. Brawls can break out anytime. So... Where are we going?" Dylan felt at his chest, then internally winced, pain shooting through him like lightning. He squinted his eyes and gritted his teeth, but gave no other indication that he was in pain. 

"Oooh! Ooh! I know! I know! We can show Dylan the present we got him! It'll be grrrrreat! I know you'll lovey dovey loooooove it!" Pinkie Pie rubbed her two front hooves together in excitement. There was a hysterical look on her face, the kind that meant something very unexpected was going to happen. 

"Uh... O... K? Let's get movin'." 

The group followed Pinkie; Everyone but Dylan wore a knowing expression. 
They half-ran towards the center of town, looking out for any ponies that were in the mood for a scrap. Luckily, they did not encounter any aggressors. If they had, they probably would've ended up bleeding and broken on the ground, courtesy of the fiery red-haired human. They came upon the center of town, the moon shining its pale light upon the cobblestone streets. 

(All Minecraft jokes may now commence.) 

Pinkie stopped abruptly, skidding to a halt directly in front of a small house. She turned and smiled energetically at Dylan, who was stumbling slightly, cursing every time he almost fell to the ground. He stopped and looked at her, one of his eyebrows moving slowly upwards. 

"Why... are we here?" 

"It's a surprise, silly! Now close your eyes!" 

Dylan grunted and shut his eyelids. His shoulders were sagging, and he held his head with one hand, which was now aching. Almost no sleep for days, work on Applejack's farm, countless fights and injuries, running... He. Was. Fucking. Tired. He growled to himself at his lack of energy. He could feel a burning behind his eyes, and his vision was blurred. 

He was guided blindly by Pinkie Pie, who led him inside the house. He felt and heard his footsteps creaking on the wooden stairs, followed by a soft plodding on carpet. He had no idea why he was here, and he was about to ask Pinkie what in the flying fuck was going on, but was beat to the punch. 

"Open your eyes! Welcome to your new home! We all pitched together to buy it! We sure hope you like it here! There's a mini-bar-" 

"FUCK. No more alcohol... Please. My fucking head hurts..." 

"-A fully stocked library, a-" 

"Wait... YOU BOUGHT ME A HOUSE!?" Dylan was literally blown away. He fell on his ass, completely shocked. 

Holyshitholyshitholyshitholyshit! Sweet Mother Mary's sacred titties! Are these ponies ever going to stop getting better?! Jeez! 

"-study, and a nicely furnished living room downstairs!" 

"Where's... The... Bed?" 

"Oh, it's in that room over there!" 

"Thanks for everything. I'm out. I can't do any more tonight... Peace." The door slammed behind Dylan as he entered the bedroom. He wasted no time; he spotted the bed, walked two steps towards it, and fell facefirst on the covers. He was asleep within seconds. 

(I'm about to sleep now, that's about how I feel. PEACE OFF! Boop.)

(I am back. Let's do this...) 

***

The starry, moonlit sky was completely obstructed by a thick layer of black cloud. This cast eerie, strange shadows across the plains around Ponyville. The lights of the town could be seen faintly in the distance, like tiny fireflies in a sea of blackness. 

A number of large shapes shrouded by the darkness made their way out of the clouds. Wings could obviously be seen, and they glided and pushed the forms through the air. They were traveling in a loose formation, and there were at least ten of them. They flew low to the ground, trying to stay as hidden as possible. They were heading directly towards the town in the distance. 

The lead form spoke, a low screech. It was audible only to his companions.

"Ssisster... We're coming..." 

At that moment, moonlight shined upon the the speaker, illuminating his face. He was wearing a dark hood, which obscured most of his features. The only recognizable thing was a pair of black avian eyes, and a long crooked beak, which had a long scar running along its side.  

"You'll be ssso happy to see me..." 

***

Two figures were crouched on the ground below, watching the winged shapes fly overhead. They wore cloaks, which billowed and writhed slowly in the slight breeze of the night. They were leaning over what appeared to be a pile of ash and dirt. The pile was smoldering slightly, thin black smoke coiling into the air like snakes. The smell of the pile was enough to make someone vomit; it was sweet and smelled like rotten meat mixed with vinegar and charcoal. Maggots and flies were congregating on scraps of rotting flesh among the pile of ash, feeding upon the meat greedily. 

One of the figures gagged and shuffled back slightly, raising a hand to cover his face. He was smaller than the other figure, and his lithe form looked malnourished under his cloak. The folds of cloth managed to hide this somewhat, but it was still obvious that he was unhealthily thin. 

"Fuck! Gah! Why the hell does it smell so bad?" His voice was of an average putch, and it was obviously American in accent. His tone was one of disgust and annoyance. 

The other figure turned and looked at him, shaking his head slightly. 

"Zavali yebalo... you trying to get us killed, American? Oh yes, that's right... You never been around rotting body... Damn California boy..." The larger figure sighed, looking at the pile intently. 

"Piece of shit communist." 

"Russia not communist any more, zhopa. Focus." 

The larger figure's voice was obviously Russian, and thickly accented. He sounded cold, jaded, and he spoke like someone who had seen too much. His speaking was interspersed with hacking coughs, like those of a smoker. The coughs were muffled with one of his gloved hands. He reached down with his other hand, moving it through the ash pile. He grunted as he took hold of a long, flexible object. He pulled it out of the pile, holding it up. 

"Oh, fuck me!" The smaller one said, trying to hold back his vomit. "It's a head!" 

The other figure looked at him in irritation, scowling. In the dim light only the lower half of the Russian's face could be made out. He had a goatee, and there was a thick red scar running along the side of his lip to his cheek. He looked at the head. The head was still attached to its spine, nerves dangling off it like tiny hairs. It was obviously avian; the skull made that clear enough. 

"No shit, smartass. I think its griffon." The Russian said this with a hint of anger in his voice. "Fucking griffons." 

The American was trying to look away from the pile, but he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. He turned back and look closer, which caused his long black hair to sway in front of his face. He pushed it away from his eyes with the back of his hand. 

"Russkie, come look at this." 

"What eez it?" The Russian sounded tired; not physically, but rather mentally; the Californian's whining had worn down on him. 

"Bites. They're big ones." 

The Russian looked at the chunk of flesh with tooth-marks that the American was looking at. His next words were said as if it was completely simple. 

"Wolf. Big one." 

The American shot him a look of disbelief. "A wolf?! Fucking wolves aren't this big! They ripped of a griffon's head, for chrissakes! What kinda shit are you on, man? It's gotta be a bear or something!" 

The Russian growled slightly, pointing back at the bite markings. 

"Look. Not bear. Bear head eez short. Wolf head eez long. Bite eez long. It is wolf." 

The American groaned, shaking his head. 

"How the fuck did a wolf do /that/?!" He pointed at the head that the Russian still held. 

"I have no idea. Wait... this eez not a campfire... these burns did not come from ground." 

The American looked completely shocked at this, his hands dropping to his sides. 

"He is one of us. He is gifted." The Russian stood as he said this, reaching into his pocket. He pulled out an antique lighter with the shape of a naked woman engraved into it. It had the name Vika engraved above the female form. He also retrieved a pack of cigarettes, which he opened. He pulled out one of the long white sticks, and then put it between his lips. He flicked open the lighter, causing a small flame to lick upwards. He held it up to the cigarette and lit it. He inhaled, then puffed the smoke out of his mouth after removing the cigarette from his mouth. The smoke curled and twisted around his face before  rising into the night air. 

"What do we do next?" The American was poking at the body with his foot, smiling in a disturbing fashion. He looked up at the Russian with a frown. 

"Get rid of body. No evidence. We never here." 

"And... how do we do that?"

"I got it. No problem." The Russian extended on of his hands towards the corpse, then muttered a few words in Russian. "Prazdnik, druz'ya moi. Ostav'te nichego." 

As he said these words, a rumbling noise could be heard from under the ground. There were things moving in the soil, fighting to breach the surface. They came up from the hard'packed ground, chittering and screeching. They were rats, and there were dozens of them. They looked like they were dead; there were pieces of flesh hanging off of them and some of their bones were showing. They proceeded to devour the carcass - bones and all - with frantic speed. 

"Holy shit! What the fuck did you do?!" The American hissed, jumping backwards, desperately trying to get away from the rodents. 

The Russian's face was obscured by darkness; all that could be seen was a single circle of yellowish-orange light, which grew brighter with and dimmer with his breathing. The glow of his cigarette grew bright when he laughed. It was a deep, rumbling sound. 

"I called my friends to dinner." 

"Fuck! Warn me next time!" 

"Sure thing, trus." The last word was Russian for 'coward', but the American didn't know that. 

"What's that mean?!" The American said angrily, gritting his teeth. 

"It means you have big balls." The Russian stretched his hands out to show just how large. 

"Big balls? You're nuts, man. You're fucking nuts." 

"Yes. I said that. Big nuts." 

"Shut up..." 

"Let's go. Proshchaîte, tovarishchi." 

The rats burrowed back into the ground, dragging the last pieces of the corpse with them. The two humans began walking away from the site. The sound of their chittering soon grew silent. 

"Now we find one of us." 

> Chapter 11- Calm Before The Storm
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"The Other Side" Chapter 11-   Calm Before The Storm

Morning light passed across Dylan's face, causing him to stir. He groaned in discomfort, rolling to turn his back to the sun's rays. "Damn it. I hate mornings." Dylan mumbled as he swung himself halfway out of bed. He sat up, putting his hands on his knees, and looked at the room around him. 

He was still in disbelief of how well the ponies had treated him; free clothes, free alcohol, medical treatment and most unexpectedly, a /house/. It was absolutely dumbfounding to Dylan, who had spent most of his life being taken advantage of and ignored. Other than the fact that he had saved Fluttershy's life and helped Applejack with her... Griffon infestation. He did not think he would understand their reasons anytime soon. 

As he pondered these things, he suddenly realized something strange: I don't have a hangover. He thought for a moment, trying to determine how he wasn't holding his head in agony. The lack of muscular weakness and the fact that Dylan could assemble coherent thoughts only seemed to strengthen his theory. 

Dylan stood up and scratched his face; it was completely covered in a wild, unruly beard. "I really need a shave..." Dylan began to walk to where he thought the bathroom should be. He was correct in his findings, and proceeded inside. He looked at himself in the mirror with an expression of astonishment. He had appeared to have grown taller over the past few days by at least a few inches. He pulled up the sleeves of his shirt, looking at his biceps. His muscles seemed much more pronounced as well. Dylan began to run water from the sink into his cupped hands, letting the cool feeling wash over his skin for a moment. He then proceeded to splash water over his face, enjoying the refreshing blast of cold; it reminded him of home, which was nothing like the warm, green lands around Ponyville. He actually liked the cold and the snow. Winter was always one of his favorite seasons, as he found the spring too wet, the summer too hot, and the fall just wasn't the right atmosphere for his tastes. 

After cleaning up a bit in the bathroom, -without shaving, as he had no razor, and doubted that most ponies did either- Dylan made his way to the kitchen, as his stomach was already complaining earnestly. "Shut it. I'm getting food." His gut did not cease its rumblings. "Fuck you. Just wait, you ungrateful sack of crap! I'm getting the damn food!" Dylan frantically walked over to what looked like a refrigerator and opened the door. Inside were various types of foods. Luckily, they were all things that he could eat, as the ponies had learned that humans had quite a different diet than them. He pulled out a hunk of cheese and an apple. He got a large chunk of bread from the kitchen counter as well. He put it all down on a plate and began to eat. "Yeah, you've shut up now... greedy bastard..." 

***

Twilight Sparkle sat in her study, scribbling words down on a scroll with a magically-levitated quill. She was mumbling quietly to herself, trying to think of more words to write on the thick, rolled paper. When she finished, the scroll read: 

Dear Princess Celestia, 

My observations about friendship are going well, and I have learned quite a few things: 

I've learned that just because somepony is different than you doesn't mean that they can't be a good friend.

I've also learned that to be a good friend, you must stand up for your friends, no matter how large your fear is.

Also, I met a rather strange individual. His name is Dylan, and he says that he's a human from another world. It's all very exciting, learning about him and talking to him. He has a bit of a bad temper, but he's made up for it. 

The human world seems like an awful place to live, and I wouldn't want to be Dylan, because of all he's gone through. He seems like he's putting on a mask of happiness to cover up how he really feels. He has some things he won't tell me about; foremost being his family. I don't know what could have happened, but I know it's not good.

I eagerly expect your reply.

Your faithful student, Twilight Sparkle.

P.S. Do not give Pinkie Pie alcohol. Ever. Again.

Twilight sighed as she finished the letter, and opened her mouth to call for Spike. Before she could, there was a knocking on the front door of the library. 

"I'll get it!" Spike yelled.

Twilight began to walk down the stairs to the ground floor, hearing the sound of the front door opening as she did so. Standing outside the door was Dylan. He looked like he had cleaned up from the last night's party, except for a large bruise on his face, which looked like it was caused by a hoof. 

"Hello, Spike! How's your morning so far?" 

"Great! I just had sapphires for breakfast!"

"Oh that's- SAPPHIRES! YOU EAT GEMS?!" 

"Uhm... Yes? I'm a dragon." 

"Isn't that... expensive?" 

"Not really, they're all over the place around Ponyville, you just gotta know where to dig." 

"There are gems in the dirt?! Wow. No wonder you guys don't have poverty issues..." By this time, Twilight had arrived at the bottom of the stairs. 

"Hello, Dylan. How are you?" 

"Great!" 

Why does he seem so energetic? He was just in a fight last night,'... Shouldn't all the alcohol he had yesterday be- 

Twilight's thoughts were interrupted by Spike, who spoke up again. "Wow! You look... taller!" 

It was only after Spike said this that she noticed Dylan's change in size. He looked at least a few inches taller, and he appeared to look even bulkier than he normally did.

"Oh my gosh! You are! How did that happen?" After being asked this question, Dylan shrugged and frowned, not knowing the reason himself. 

"No bloody idea." He walked up to Twilight and smiled, something obviously on his mind. "I'd like to tell you more about my world, and maybe learn some about yours as well." 

Twilight smiled, an obvious look of satisfaction and anticipation on her face. "That's great! I can start making some coffee or tea, if you like." 

"No, I'll just have water, thank you." Dylan scratched his beard and looked around, staring in awe at the massive amount of literature lining the bookshelves on the walls. "Oh... Shit... You weren't kidding about being a librarian... This is a whole lot of books." His eyes went wide as he said this. 

"They're mostly from the last librarian, but a lot of them are from my personal collection." 

Dylan walked up to one of the shelves and pulled out a book. He read the title aloud, 

"The Mare's guide to Stallions: 101 ways to buck-" 

The book jumped from Dylan's fingers and into the air; it was glowing purple, as was the unicorn librarian's horn. A deep shade of red washed across Twilight's face. Her embarrassment was completely obvious, but she tried to hide it unsuccessfully. 

"Oh! I'm u-uh h-holding that for a f-friend! Yeah, that's what that's doing there!"  

Dylan raised an eyebrow and grinned, pointing at a plate with the genre of this section of bookshelves. 

Twilight Sparkle's collection.

"Shouldn't that book be behind that desk over there instead? I'm pretty sure librarians aren't supposed to display books that they're holding." Dylan chuckled, putting a hand over his mouth in an attempt to stop himself. Spike, on the other hand, laughed loudly and wildly, rolling around on the floor and pounding his fists against the wood boards as hilarity overtook him. The book floated behind Twilight's back, who was backing away, still bashful at having one of her 'private' books found out. Dylan gave Spike a questioning look, then spoke. 

"Why are you laughing? Aren't you a little young to know about that kind of stuff?" 

Spike shrugged, giving a small smile, "Well, this is a library. There are tons of books lying around, and some days are just so boring that I read them."

"Huh... So... Uh..." Dylan looked at the little dragon with an expression of pleased amusement. "Did you practice any of the things you learned in those books for your... special someone?" Dylan was grinning like an idiot, and looked like he was about to lose it. Spike stared in shock, his lips trying to form words, but failing miserably. "Well, I've gotta talk to Twilight. Talk to you later, lover boy." 

Dylan left Twilight's dumbfounded assistant on the ground floor, and proceeded to follow Twilight upstairs. He saw her frantically trying to find a place to hide the book; overturning boxes, opening drawers, pulling back bedcovers, and so on. "Hey, Twilight, about that... sorry I laughed. It just that... I didn't expect you to be that devoted to the... bedroom arts." He gave one small chuckle and then continued, "We can get started and talk now, I don't really need anything to drink." 

Twilight looked relieved, and turned back to the human, the beginnings of a smile starting to form on her lips. "Thanks. I... well... I generally only hang around with Spike or the girls, so I don't get much... male company." 

Dylan smiled and replied knowingly, "I know all about that myself. I seclude myself and write, or read, anything really. Don't see many females when that happens. In fact, I don't really see anybody. My best friend left where I live a while ago, and I don't have any other really close friends... But damn alive, do I sure know how to make some enemies. I swear, I make at least one a week. And recently, four in two days." Dylan looked at his hands, flexing his fingers into a fist, then uncurling them one at a time. He seemed to be remembering something private, as his eyes took on a glazed appearance. Twilight took this opportunity to speak, "You have friends here! We may not know you that well, but you're welcome in Ponyville anytime. All the help around town has warmed up... well, mostly just the Girls and I, and a few other ponies, but I'm sure everypony will like you soon enough."

"Maybe..." 

Dylan and Twilight talked for most of the morning, exchanging information at a rapid rate. Dylan told Twilight about as much history as he could remember, along with examples of Earth society. Dylan even drew maps -to the best of his above average drawing skills- to show Twilight Earth geography. Twilight told him about the shortened version of the history of Equestria, along with the Elements of harmony, the defeat of Nightmare Moon, and finally, the sealing away of Discord. 
The name stirred up something inside him, and he felt himself become immoderately more attentive, though he did not know why. 

"So... You're all basically the chosen ones? How'd that happen? Were you all born like that, or did you somehow change later on in life?"

Twilight shook her head, her face becoming serious. "I don't know. But for whatever reason, we have this responsibility, one way or another. The Elements are pretty much our last line of defense, and it's quite a lot of pressure on us..." 

"Whoa. Yeah, I can imagine. Uh, so is that about it?" Dylan scratched at his chin, feeling the coarse hairs of his beard between his fingernails. He looked like he was excited to get somewhere.

"Yes. You can leave whenever you like. Have a nice day, Dylan." Twilight tried to look happy when she said this, but a strange feeling at the back of her skull distracted her slightly. The feeling was painful, but it felt like it had a direction. She shook her head to clear the sensation.

"You too." With that, Dylan walked downstairs and exited the library. Twilight magically lowered her quill and notebook to her desk and began to search for something. Numerous objects floated around her, each surrounded by the aura of her magic. After a few minutes, she retrieved a large, dusty tome from a chest. It was ragged looking, and it appeared to be at least a hundred years old. She blew away the dust and read the title. In gold-edged black lettering were three words: The Old Ones.

***

Dripping. Constant dripping. That was what the diamond dog heard throughout his entire guard shift. The stalactites above him were slowly gathering water and letting it fall to the cave floor in a steady, monotonous pattern. He was completely irritated by the constant noise, and had tried to smash the stalactites with the tip of his spear several times; but he was too short, and couldn't reach the source of his unbearable annoyance. 

The diamond dog's face was covered in nasty-looking scabs, which he scratched at occasionally. There were stains of blood on his fingernails where he had scratched his wounds too hard. He looked like a greyhound; tall and skinny, with a thin mouth. His arms were strangely well-muscled for such a thin breed of diamond dog, but no one in his pack teased him for his muscles; they instead teased him because of his scabs. He was wearing a thick leather jerkin, a pair of half-finger gloves, and an iron helmet, which seemed a small bit too large for him.  Along with the spear he was holding, he had a club slung across his back by a leather sling, and a dagger in a sheath at his belt. The diamond dog growled and grumbled to himself quietly, "Scabs, clean the oil barrels. Scabs, go throw out the trash. Scabs, pick up those rocks. Scabs, go find us some booze. Scabs, guard the entrance... Damn taskmaster thinks he can boss me around jus' cause' he's bigger'n me! One a' these days, bitch. One a' these days..." Scabs jumped when he heard an unexpected sound; a whoosh, like air being displaced by something else. He swung his spear in the direction of the sound, readying to stab at whatever had made its way into the diamond dogs' caves. 

The diamond dogs had struck out from their cramped tunnels into a large cavern system, which they had fortified and turned into their base of operations. There were at least thirty of them, and they were armed to the teeth. Despite this, many cave creatures and denizens of the outside had attacked them. They had lost half a dozen of their group in the past month. Scabs wasn't about to become the seventh. 

"Rrr! Who's there?! I've got a pointy fing' and I ent' afraid to use et'!" To further validate his statement, he mock jabbed the air on front of him with his spear. He stood there shaking lightly for what seemed like half a minute, trying to listen for more sounds in the darkness. 

Suddenly, the sound of a number of rocks clacking together and falling down into a deep hole in the middle of the cave made him jump. The sound echoed and bounced off the stone walls. Scabs yelped and spun towards the noise, cowering behind the point of his spear. 

"Feck off! Either come out, or leave! I'm nat' warning yas' agin'!" 

Immediately, he was answered by the unmistakable sound of a dozen weapons being readied; the clink of chains, the hiss of drawn blades, the creaking of bowstrings, and the crack of a whip. 

"AAAAAAHHHH! GIT' BACK! OH FECK! FECK FECK FECK! " 

The diamond dog backed up against the cave wall  behind him and stumbled. He fell to his knees, awkwardly holding the spear out, trying to keep back whoever was about to attack him. A low voice rumbled out from the darkness, causing Scabs to yell out in fear.  

"Some guard you are." 

Another voice followed the first, but it was raspy and hoarse, unlike the deep boom of the first voice. 

"Damn cur! It's us, you stupid mutt! Stop shitting yourself and stand up!" As this voice spoke, a torch was lit in the darkness, immediately illuminating a dozen figures. They were all griffons. They wore black cloaks and carried a large variety of weapons, which they were holding readily in their talons. The one holding the torch towered over the others. He had old and ragged feathers, and looked like he had seen many battles. In the hand that wasn't holding the torch was a wicked-looking morningstar, the head of which dangled menacingly from side to side. The one next to him was the one with the rasping voice; he was missing an eye, which was evident from the large bandage visible from under his hood. He was holding a longbow with a broadhead arrow nocked on the string, and was pointing it towards the ground. He gave the griffon equivalent of a smile and spat an insult at the diamond dog. "Who's a brave little pup, eh? You are. I'm shaking just looking at this fearsome display of canine masculinity!" Sarcasm was obviously this griffon's specialty.. "Get up, you coward."

Scabs scrabbled to pick himself up and clumsily salute the new arrivals. The griffon carrying the torch looked down at the ground and shook his head. "Turvehk, ssstop ssscrewing around and get to the damn point." This came from the second-largest of the griffons, who had a long, ugly scar running across the side of his beak. He had a large whip in one hand and a finely crafted falchion in the other. He appeared to be the leader, which was made obvious when every other griffon tensed at the sound of his voice and turned towards him. 

The one-eyed griffon nodded nervously, fear for his commanding officer evident in his expression. It was plain to see that every last one of them feared their leader, and justly so. Turvehk coughed to clear his throat before speaking again. 

"We're here to speak with your pack leader. Bring us to him. Now." 

Scabs flinched visibly, then stuttered out his reply, shocked at how easily the griffons had snuck up on him. "Y-yes! R-r-right away! I-I'll j-jus' git' the d-d-door for yeh'!" He then promptly ran to the iron-reinforced wooden door that he had been guarding. He knocked on it hurriedly, glancing back nervously at the dozen figures behind him, who were now less than six feet away from him. An iron panel on the door slid open, revealing a mastiff diamond dog's face, which was mostly obscured by a visored iron helmet. His eyes were bleary, and by his voice it was obvious that he was drunk. "Scabs? I eard' yellin. Whass goin' on in there?!" 

"Its... It's the griffons! They're here to see the boss! Open up, Brutus!" 

The mastiff peered through the slit intently for a moment, jumped visibly and shut the panel. The clinking of keys being sorted through was heard from the other side of the door, along with feverish cursing. The door swung open with a groan, revealing the mastiff standing inside. He had a long-hafted axe held loosely in one hand, and a lit oil lamp in the other. A golden ring was pierced through his lip, which he licked at absent-mindedly as he stared in drunken amazement at the group of griffons standing outside. Scabs quickly ushered them further into the diamond dogs' hideout. They all passed the completely stupefied Brutus, whose mouth was now hanging open. He drooled on the floor as he watched the group head down the long hall to the main barracks. He closed his mouth with a snap, then turned and shut the door, fishing for his keys to lock it. He was relieved when the last of the new arrivals passed out of sight. He sighed, then reached for a tankard of ale which sat on a crate next to the door. He took a long slurp and shook his head. 

"Griffons... great... and I was gettin' used ta' jus' sittin' around, too..." 

***

Dylan walked with a spring in his step, nodding to any passerby. He was not quite accepted into the town, but he was tolerated, and a few of the townsfolk had begun to like the human. He was on his way to his second day of work at Sweet Apple Acres, where he was sure he would be appreciated. Applejack seemed quite fond of him, and it seemed very fortunate to have a boss that you got along with well. The feeling was mutual; He already considered Applejack a strong friend, along with her brother, Big Macintosh, who reminded him of himself. Big Mac; quiet, reserved, thoughtful... that was like Dylan a lot of the time. 

He strolled along the well-worn dirt path, taking in the countryside. The land was pleasant, green and beautiful to look at. But there was something that he thought about it, and it made him wince. 

Its so... artificial... 

The countryside looked as if each field, each tree, and each flower was controlled and regulated, the wildness of the world subdued. It was completely unnerving, the sight all too familiar; his own world had abused and exploited nature as well. Dylan shivered slightly as he opened the farm's front gate and walked towards the farmhouse. Granny Smith was sitting in a rocking chair on the porch and snoring, fast asleep. The front door was open, but Dylan knocked on it anyways, rapping his knuckles against the hard wood. "I'm back, AJ. Need any work done?" No one answered him, so he walked inside. He undid the buttons on his coat, then hung it up on a coat rack near the door. "Mac? AJ? You guys here? The door was o-" Before Dylan could finish, he bumped into something soft with his leg, which caused him to grunt out in surprise. He looked down into the screaming face of Apple Bloom, who scampered away from him and vanished around a corner. "Monster! Haaalp! Haaalp! There's a monster in the house!" Dylan quirked his eyebrows in a curious fashion, thinking to himself.

Was that Applejack's sister? Holy shit... as if ponies couldn't get any cuter... curse you feminine side. Curse you. 

Dylan leaned around the same corner the little filly had just disappeared around just in time to see a door slam. He heard at least three frantic voices behind it, and proceeded to sneak quietly up to the door, standing in the direction that the door would open. He planned to hide behind the door when the occupants of the room decided to come out. He was smiling mischievously, trying to suppress his snickering. The doorknob slowly turned and the door swung slowly outwards. Excited whispering could be heard, the voice of Sweetie Belle speaking quietly to her two companions."What do we do if we catch it?" 

"You mean when we catch it. It's not getting away from the Cutie Mark Crusaders!" Scootaloo said confidently, sure that they would catch the two-legged creature. 

"Ah think we should keep it as a pet!" Apple Bloom said excitedly.

"Weren't you the one who just ran away screaming from-" Scootaloo was cut off by a loud, guttural roar. All three fillies turned to stare in terror at the six-foot tall 'monster' standing right next to them. They screamed, running away from Dylan right back into the main room. He heard their hooves clicking on the wooden porch as they fled the house. He chuckled to himself and followed after them, slowly walking towards the large wooden barn near the house. 

He came up to the doors, which were also open. He saw Big Macintosh standing inside, pulling a cart of firewood. He walked towards him, and was about to say something, when a large and heavy object landed directly on the top of his head. "Shit!" Dylan grunted as he fell to the ground, his head spinning with the impact. He stared at the large bale of hay now resting a few inches from his head. Seconds later he heard what sounded like three little battle-cries just before the Cutie Mark Crusaders rushed towards his fallen body. They began to wrap ropes around him, trying to hogtie him like some kind of animal. Big Macintosh turned his head and looked at the commotion, raising an eyebrow. "Eeewhut?" 

Dylan struggled to turn his head towards the large red work-pony. When he was looking at him, he began to yell. "Mac! Mac! Help me! I'm being attacked my- mrrrrrphmmmmm!!!!! Mrphrfhker!" His muffled voice was due to a gag that had just been placed between Dylan's teeth by Sweetie Belle. "Bhhg Mrfntoff! Hrrp mh!" The three fillies dragged Dylan out of the barn, grinning to themselves and giving each other high-hooves (Pony high-fives). Their apparent victory made them ecstatic. 

"We'll get monster-catching cutie marks for sure! My sister will be so proud!" Sweetie Belle said, unable to contain her explosive excitement. 

Scootaloo smiled and nodded, "Yeah! We sure got that monster /good/!" 

Apple Bloom laughed, sounding strange because of the rope she held between her teeth. "Yuh! Ah can't wait till we train him! What should we call him?" 

Sweetie Belle shot Apple Bloom a questioning look, "What do you mean 'him'? It's a 'her'!" 

"No way, it's definitely a 'he'! Look at those muscles!" Scootaloo touched one of Dylan's biceps with her hoof. Sweetie Belle looked frustrated for a second, frowning slightly. 

"Look at that hair! It's way too nice to belong to a 'he'!" 

The hogtied human yelled in protest, "MMH HRR ID NUUHT
GRHHLY! Mrrf mhh hrr!" 

"Did it just say something?" Apple Bloom stared at it for a second, an expression of surprise on her face. 

"I think it said, 'I'm a nice girlie'." Sweetie Belle said as she lifted the human's legs to keep him off the ground. 

"THTS NNT WHH I SIDD! " 

"Hey! He said, 'let's go to that shed'!" Scootaloo pointed to a small, rickety-looking tool shed near the back of the house. Dylan began to shake, trying to get away, but to no avail. 

"To the shed!"

Apple Bloom's statement was fulfilled; the three fillies dragged Dylan into the shed, propping him up against the back wall. He landed hard on his ass, causing him to scream out in pain. 

"GHD DMMHT! THAT HURT!" 

His last sentence was only understandable because the gag had been removed by Sweetie Belle, who was staring at Dylan intently. "Why are you here, monster?" Apple Bloom yelled, leaning close to Dylan's face. 

"I was trying to get back to work on the farm, until you crazy little... uh... ponies started dragging me off! Just ask Applejack or Big Mac!" 

Scootaloo glared at the human in front of her, crossing her hooves in front of her as she leaned against one of the walls. The shed creaked with each movement the four of then made, as it was old and in a state of disrepair. "He's lyin'." Scootaloo said, squinting at Dylan in an attempt to intimidate him. "I know he is." 

"I'm not lyin'! Just talk to mmrrphamrrph- MRPH TH MRRPH!?!?" The gag was put back over his mouth. 

Scootaloo looked on the wall of the shed, all the various tools sitting on their racks or in boxes. She found what she was looking for. She reached for it and removed it off of the nail it had been hanging on. The thick leather strap dangled menacingly in her hooves, and she padded it slowly over and over again into her other hoof; it looked similar to how a thug might try to scare somebody with a bat. She smiled, looking down at Dylan, who looked back at her with a comprehending expression. 

"MRPH! HHHMMMMMMPH MH MMMPLMRPH!" 

"Flip him over... and pull his pants down." Scootaloo said, grinning even wider. Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle did as she asked, but looked hesitant for a moment. Scootaloo looked down at Dylan's hairy buttocks and raised the piece of leather above her head. "Its spanking time!" 

"MMMMMMMNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!"

The door to the shed burst open. A breathless-looking Applejack skid to a halt before speaking. 

"What the hay is goin' on in-" 

She saw the three fillies, the leather strap raised above Scootaloo's head, and the hogtied and gagged Dylan whose rump was fully exposed. The Cutie Mark Crusaders' heads all turned to look at Applejack. Her jaw dropped, and her pupils widened in complete shock. "What the buck?!" 
> Chapter 12- Discoveries
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"The Other Side" Chapter 12- Discoveries

"What the buck?!" Applejack blurted out, aghast at the scene laid out before her. It was not something she had expected, to say the least. 

"Hey, watch your language, sis!" Apple Bloom said, looking slightly irritated, which only seemed to make Applejack angry. The orange pony scowled at her sister, who then backed up and pressed against the side of the shed, suddenly aware of her sister's anger. 

"What're you doing to Dylan?!" Scootaloo nervously hid the leather strap behind her back, a sheepish expression washing over her face. 

"Oh, uh... we were just... uh..." The look on Scootaloo's face betrayed her guilt; there was no doubt what she was just about to do. 

"THEY WRPH GUNNH SPHNK MHH!" Dylan rolled over, his eyes staring at Applejack's with incredulous surprise. He began to worm his way towards the door, but Sweetie Belle put a hoof down on his shoulder, pinning him in place. 

"She was just playing a game with us!" 

Dylan growled and his eyes filled up with a burning annoyance. His voice was frustrated and desperate. "I'M NHHT A GHRRL!!!! I HFF A DHHK!!! WHNNA SEE?!" He stared up at the young unicorn, his  disagreement to her last statement unmistakable. She looked down at him, blushed, and looked back up at Applejack. 

"Ain't any kinda game Ah've ever seen! Untie 'im, right now!"

Apple Bloom looked at her sister, nervously trying to reason with her. "B-but he's a monster! He tried to eat us!"

"DHHD NHT!" 

Applejack looked at her sibling with impatience, her voice full of weariness. Her words were slow and deliberate. "He's mah friend... He'd never do any such thing." She looked at Dylan, who smiled with his eyes, as his mouth was currently obstructed from view. She returned the gesture of affection with her own. Scootaloo moved her gaze nervously from Applejack to Dylan, her face now uncertain. "Wait, he was actually telling the truth?" Dylan nodded, his expression changing from happiness to frustration. "YSSH! NH TKH THSH DHMN GHG OFF!" 
Sweetie Belle's magic pulled the gag off of Dylan's face, then dropped it to the floor. She shamefully looked down at her hooves. "Someone untie so I can pull my pants up... My ass is hangin' out like Bruce Willis." 

***

Twilight opened the book, which had a strange symbol on the first page; It was a pointed ring, inside which were a series of spirals that overlapped and crossed each other; inside these were strange symbols, which were angular and drawn in a scratched fashion. 

The symbols appeared to be words, but they were of a language that Twilight had never encountered before. This was both odd and unnerving to Twilight, as she knew every language in Equestria. She looked again at the symbols, frowning in concentration. She turned the page with her telekinetic magic. She brushed back her mane with a hoof, then looked at the text on the worn, yellowed paper.

If you are reading this, it means that you are one of the few that will ever know of what I am about to reveal to you.

What I know of the 'Old Ones' is very minuscule, but what I do is intriguing to say the least. They disappeared from all Equestrian records roughly a millennia ago, and there are no existing records before or since, as far as I am aware. They apparently surpassed even our great nation's size and power, as unbelievable a that might sound. The Old Ones had acquired an uneasy reputation with early Equestria, but I am uncertain as to why. The remaining text is almost undecipherable, and any spell I have attempted to conjure was unsuccessful in translating it. 

I know this sounds strange, but I am not exactly 'when' I'm supposed to be. 

If you can discover any information about the Old Ones that I have not already, it is of the greatest importance that the Princesses hear of it as quickly as possible. The ramifications of such knowledge are of the direst significance, and should be revealed only to Luna or Celestia herself. The security of our great nation depends on it! 

The blood of greatness runs where the nighttime is most brilliant. 

~Starswirl the Bearded.

Twilight gaped at the book before her, falling backwards in her chair. It slammed to the ground, causing her head to throb with the impact, her brain shaking in her skull. The pain was nothing compared to the awe that she felt.

To her, this was a holy artifact; Starswirl the Bearded was among the greatest magic users of all time, and she was in possession of one of his hoof-written books. She simply could not believe it.

Oh my goodness... This is... This is HIS! Sweet Celestia, this is absolutely bucking amazing! How did I even get this?! I don't remember seeing this in the Canterlot Archives... 

The unicorn mare stood up and practically threw her fallen chair out of the way. She had to read more. She needed to read more. She flipped to the next page, completely unsure of what she would read next. The next page was covered in those same angular runes, but with scribbled words underneath them. This page read: 

Du Solamei un Mhukan un Dharakeq h'wei tyrartus ahvel uuv adha. Tver haaf dehgladh varra utna ahvel uuv Thropas-kayin. Vei vahl fveita tun du morta. Dheiwae haela adha.

"What... What language is this?!" Twilight looked down at the bottom of the page, where more words had been hastily written.

I have only translated a few of the words. Here is the list: 
Tyrtartus= Betrayed
Adha= Us
Dehgladh= Declared
Varra= War
Ahvel= All
Fveita= Fight
Morta= Death

If any of this is to be  understood, it is that the Old Ones were betrayed by someone, and war ensued. This might be the reason that the Old Ones are not present in Equestria. Who started the war, and why? I must continue my research./

Twilight continued to read through the remaining pages, which all had the ancient runes on them. However, Starswirl's annotations stopped abruptly. The reason for this was terrifyingly obvious; the last page with annotations was splattered with blood. The red droplets were not consistent with a slow drip, but rather with a violent spray. Twilight half-screamed and half-gasped, her face a mask of horror. She almost knocked over the table in her haste to get away from the source of her fear. The last line on the page read: 

I do not have much time. I have found the reason that the Old Ones disappeared; Discord a-

The penmanship of the 'A' looked as if the quill had slipped, dragging downwards and off of the page. The blood almost made the text unreadable, but it was just barely legible. Twilight grabbed the book and turned as she fled the room. She ran. She didn't stop until she was out of the library and heading straight for the Everfree Forest. 

***

The clicking of canine paws and avian talons echoed forebodingly off the stone floor as Scabs lead the griffons deep into the diamond dog fortress. 

Whenever the griffons arrived at the fortress or sent the diamond dogs a message, it meant that there was serious business to deal with; either that, or Tanning was here to visit Gilda, who was in charge of collecting 'protection' money from Ponyville. Either way, Scabs was shivering and shaking in fear at the griffons behind him, who were twice his size; and in the case of Tanning and his lieutenant, three times. It was assuredly not easy to stay calm when a dozen well-armed criminals were breathing down your neck. Being an outlaw like himself did nothing to make Scabs any more confident; it only made him more certain of the danger a few steps behind him. 

Scabs and the griffons passed by two large wooden barricades, with one barricade on each side of the passage. There were slits in the barricades through which peered anxious canine faces. The guards behind the walls shifted uneasily as the griffons passed, hefting their crossbows and staring in comprehending anticipation. They only nodded to Scabs, giving no other clue as to their notice of him.
There were many more fortifications like these as the group continued, and all of the guards reacted in the same way: unease. 

Scabs and the Griffons passed by a large, reinforced wooden door, which had the word 'storeroom' on it in messy white paint. Next to the storeroom was a cluttered and filthy kitchen, where a corpulent Doberman with a giant cleaver -more than three feet long- was chopping and hacking away at the corpse of an unidentified animal. He wore an apron that was covered in blood, and his face wore a maniacal grin as he butchered the meat before him. Blood spattered in all different directions, leading the griffons to believe that the 'chef' was the reason that the kitchen was so incredibly dirty. Every so often he would scrape the chunks of meat into a bowl next to him. A ball of brownish-black fur on two legs -which presumably was a dog- stared at the bowl with a hungry look, then walked over to a large cooking fire and laid the cuts of flesh on an iron grill sitting over the flames. The smell of cooking meat was overpowering, and Scabs was starting to drool, but thenhe remembered who exactly he was leading into the fortress. He shook himself out of his hungry stupor and continued on his way to his pack leader. The two dogs in the kitchen glanced at the group for a moment, then went quickly back to their work.

"I see you dogs have... improved security since we last were here." These words came from the largest griffon, who looked up at small alcoves in the cavern walls high above, where more fortifications were positioned. Even more guards with bows, slings, javelins, and other projectile weapons were looking down at the thirteen figures walking past them.  "Oh yeah, Bregan. The door was really secure. I feel so safe right now." Turvehk sneered this, shaking his head in dissaproval. "If one of those... /things/... decides to come up from the caverns... it's definitely not going hungry." After Turvehk had finished speaking, one of the smaller griffons began to talk. He was short and thin, and he had a large bag slung over his shoulder. The telltale clinking of coins could be heard from inside. He was obviously the one in charge of handling the group's money. "Wh-what things?! I didn't hear about any things in the caverns!" It was obvious that he was scared, and from the looks that he was receiving from his fellows, he was also a new addition to the group. He gripped a spiked wooden club which hung at his waist, nervously looking at the one-eyed griffon sharpshooter. "You see, Devinn, my dickless friend, there are... well-" Bregan interrupted Turvehk, elbowing the smaller griffon slightly in his stomach. Turvehk grunted, turned to Bregan, and scowled. "Darkstalkers. Big things, hunt in the dark, kill, then vanish with no trace. Teeth like knives, bone plates over their bodies, razor sharp tail-blades; killing machines. Everything's scared of them, except us griffons." Tanning laughed, which sounded more like a growl than anything. This caused most of the griffons to flinch slightly, and Scabs to literally jump half a foot into the air. The griffon leader pulled back a cloth covering on one of his arms, grinning proudly. "Thisss iss what they did to me... one of them took my arm." 

In the place of Tanning's arm was an intricate network of metal and stone, along which was laid a handful of gems, which glowed faintly of bizarre magic. It moved a little too gracefully for something made out of what it was, but that surely had something to do with the magic coursing through it.
It was fashioned in the form of a talon, with four bladed claws in the same pattern as a griffon's own talons. The digits flexed, curling in on themselves and moving in a dexterous show of movement. "The bassstard looked pretty sssure of himssself... that iss... until I ssshoved my sssword through hisss open mouth." Tanning pulled his falchion out of his scabbard and made a gruesome thrusting motion in the air, his mouth gritted in a bloodthirsty scowl. He turned the blade over in his hand, running one of his artificial talons along its edge with admiration. The rest of the group, except for Bregan, was completely unaware of this part of Tanning's history. Bregan simply nodded and looked like he was remembering the moment. He spoke up after a few moments of contemplation. "Aye. And you killed a few more, if I remember right. I crushed quite a few Darkstalker skulls myself." He laid one of his talons hands on the haft of his morningstar, to which Tanning nodded and grinned wickedly. Scabs went cold, the talk about the Darkstalkers already making him scared. He had been outside, and the griffons could have just as easily been the Darkstalkers. He just continued walking.

They passed by the sleeping quarters, the training room, more storerooms, latrines, a workshop and finally wound up near the mines. The sounds of digging could be heard, interspersed with yelling and the cracking of whips. Scabs could smell the blood and the sweat in the air, putrid and foul. He placed a paw over his nose as they entered the mine tunnels. They passed ponies dragging mining carts full of gems, ores and precious stones. There were a few diamond dog guards with whips and clubs watching the ponies intently, blankly staring at them. There were ponies with picks and shovels excavating the hard earth, growling and grunting with exertion. These ponies were watched more closely than the others, as they possessed a weapon that could easily be turned against them. The guards watching these ponies had crossbows and spears with which to keep their distance. They seemed angrier than the other guards for some reason which Scabs could not understand. 

In the middle of the current mining area stood a gigantic diamond dog in chainmail armor, over which was a red surcoat; a mouthful of gnashing, black canine teeth in front of two crossed axes. On his head was a large steel helm with superimposed metal teeth and jaws. It had a plume of black hair atop it to signify his rank. He wore a cape of bear fur, which looked like it had been hacked off of the ursid's carcass quite brutally. He was holding a double-headed great axe in one hand, bracing it against the ground. He did not lean on it; he stood tall and proud, sweeping his gaze across the workings of the miners. In his other hand was a whip, which he cracked over the heads of workers or guards alike when their work grew slack. He was a Rottweiler, and Rottweilers were known for their brutality and ferocity. It was no surprise that the slaves working under him were intimidated by his fearsome looks. 

Scabs was sweating and shaking as he walked up to the armored figure and saluted. "R-Rex... ya've got some visitors t' see y-" The head of the giant Rottweiler turned to look at the frightened face of Scabs, who looked as if he was about to wet himself. The back of Rex's gloved hand struck across the greyhound's face, causing Scabs to stumble backwards and fall to the muck. "IT'S TASKMASTER REX, YOU FILTHY MONGREL! Now get up and try that again..." Scabs obeyed and stood up. He was covered in dirt and dust, and he was bleeding from his mouth, but he still tried to salute as dignifiedly as he could. "T-Taskmaster Rex... Sir... There's some'un who needs t' talk t' the boss... " Rex snarled through his crooked teeth and grabbed Scabs by the collar of his jerkin, pulling his face close to his. "Nobody talks to the boss! NOBODY EXCEPT ME! WHERE'S THE SLIMY PIECE OF SHIT WHO WANTS T-" Rex was cut off by Tanning's artificial fist slamming into the front of his helm. The metal bent and deformed with the impact, sending sounds of screeching steel echoing through the mines. All the guards tensed and turned as one to look at Rex, who was stumbling backwards. "Sssay that again, and I'll sssslit your fucking throat, you ssssack of filth." Tanning opened his scarred and twisted beak to hiss these words at the diamond dog taskmaster. His falchion now rested just under Rex's helm, the blade sitting lightly on his vulnerable neck. The sound of weapons being drawn came from every direction in the mine; both the griffons and the diamond dogs looked as if they were about to kill each other. Rex simply stared at the griffon holding a blade to his throat. Rex looked like his eyes were about to literally explode out of his skull with the amount of anger that was clearly on his face. His fingers tightened on his axe expectantly.  He was about to try and turn Tanning into another fine pelt for his gruesome collection. He was interrupted by a sickening voice; it was the pack leader, Rover. "What the fucking hell is going on in here?!" Everyone in the mine turned as one to the sound of the voice, locking their eyes on the newly arrived figure.

Rover looked considerably different since he had encountered those 'insufferable ponies' a year ago. His now well-developed muscles tensed, twisting and flexing as he walked. His face was obscured by a pointed-faced steel helm with a gold plume flowing from atop it. His plate-mail armor was adorned with all manner of valuable materials; from gold and silver, to rubies and sapphires. At his belt was a longsword, which looked like it had been crafted by a master smith. His black and gold cape rippled behind him; the image of a snarling golden dog's head embroidered into the fabric. He looked utterly furious at the spectacle before him, scowling in disgust and disappointment. 

"Rex! Damn you! Don't you know who you've got ready to slit your throat?! Have you no respect for your allies, you spineless traitor?!"

Rex looked like he was more scared of the pack leader than the blade at his throat. "Alpha! I... I have made a mistake! Lower your weapons!" The diamond dogs slowly and reluctantly let their weapons drop to their sides.

"Yesss you have, ssscum. On your fucking kneesss..." Tanning said, his face twisting in an evil smile. Rex simply looked at Rover, who nodded with a hint of confusion on his face. 
Rex got down on his knees and swallowed nervously. "Remove your helmet." Rex pulled the slightly crushed piece of armor, letting it rest in the crook of his arm. "Good." Tanning sheathed his falchion, the blade rasping back into its resting place. He then quickly grabbed the Rottweiler by the back of his head and thrust it downwards into the muck. His face was shoved into a muddy, filth-stained pool of water. He thrashed and struggled for a few moments as he began to feel the air leaving his lungs. They began to burn and sting, and began to feel the last of his life leaving him. A split second later his face was pulled out of the pool to look up at Tanning. He gasped for breath, coughing and spluttering as he struggled to regain his breath. "Drink it up, little puppy. Drink... It... Up..." Tanning shoved his face back down, but just enough so that he could breathe. He reluctantly began to swallow the foul water and felt bits of disgusting debris washing down his throat. Rex coughed uncontrollably, convulsing and hacking his lungs out. All of a sudden, he vomited explosively into the water, his face a mask of total shame and disgust. Tanning released his grip on the taskmaster's head and turned to Rover. "Now... On to busssinesss..."

***

Applejack and Dylan were in the barn when Applejack blushed and rubbed at her neck with a hoof.
"Sorry bout' what happened back there, sugar..." Applejack said, looking at Dylan with an apologetic expression. He simply smiled and shrugged. "Ah, s'not so bad. They're just kids, it's not like they knew any better." Applejack frowned, looking down at her hooves. "That's no way t' treat one a' mah friends." Dylan looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "Well, you've got them doin' all kinds of extra work on the farm. Ain't that enough? I mean, what are you gonna do? Spank- Oh... Uh... Never mind..." The two friends migrated from the barn to the rows of apple trees growing on the farm. "Maybe I should be getting to work now?" Dylan looked at Applejack with a grin on his face, happy that Applejack wasn't too mad with the fillies. "Uh... I don't think ah've got any work fer' y'all... Well... Nothing a human kin' handle, anyways." Applejack said this in a tone that indicated that she wished he could handle it. Dylan, on the other hand, knew that he could. "Pfft... I can do any work that Big Mac can do, trust me." The unsure expression coming from underneath the brim of Applejack's hat was testament to her doubt of Dylan's capabilities. "Are... Are you sure, sugar?" Dylan put his hands on his hips, looking straight into Applejack's eyes. "I can take it, trust me." She knew in her heart that she did. She trusted the human more than she trusted herself. "Ah... Ah do trust you. You're mah' friend, Dylan, don't forget it." He put a hand on her shoulder and looked into her eyes. "I won't." 

Dylan was lead by Applejack to the spot where Big Macintosh was working. He was pulling a large plow behind him, cutting through the hard-packed soil. He was strong, but not strong enough that he didn't look tired or strained. The muscles in his neck and shoulders were throbbing; the amount of strength that he was using to pull the plow was considerable, and a less muscular pony wouldn't be able to move the plow at all. Beside the plow that Mac was using was another of its kind, the harness lying on the ground next to it. 

"As y'all can see, we're plannin' on growin' more apple trees here. You can help by harnessin' me to that there plow." Dylan nodded and walked over to where the harness lay. He picked it up, turning it over in his hands. "Okay, Dylan, Ah'm ready." Applejack stood in front of the plow and looked back at her red-haired friend. He smiled and somewhat embarrassedly began to put the harness on Applejack. She chuckled and gave him a playful look. "Ah don't bite, Sugar. Ain't nothin' t' be embarrassed about." Dylan chuckled too as he ran his hand through his hair, still bashful as he did the clips and secured the harness on Applejack's belly. "I know that, AJ. But... You do kick." Applejack rolled her eyes and laughed quietly, then stretched her neck, trying to adjust herself into the harness. "It's not like us females are some kinda mysterious creatures or somethin'." At this, Big Mac turned and looked at Dylan with a big grin on his face. Dylan returned Mac's grin with a goofy smile of his own, then looked back at Applejack.

"What're you two smilin' about?" Dylan snickered, trying and failing to suppress his amusement. "Naw, naw. Females are sure easy to understand. Ain't that right, Mackie boy?" Big Mac nodded in response, trying to suppress a laugh of his own. He hid his amusement a lot better than Dylan, who was now holding his stomach and trying not to break out in full-on hysterics. Applejack giggled and shook her head, then began to pull the plow. It barely even moved. She looked at the ground behind her, frowning at the large metal blade she was pulling behind her. "Goshdarnit, confounded thing ain't workin' right." Dylan scratched his head. "It's a big piece of metal. How can it not work right?" Applejack huffed in frustration, trying to undo her harness unsuccessfully. Dylan rushed to help her, pulling off the harness so she could walk around to see what the problem was. After a moment of looking at the plow, she knew what it was; the earth was almost completely petrified where she was pulling. 

Her expression changed to one of disappointment, then frustration. She went back to the front of the plow. "Hook me back up." She said this with a determined look in her eyes. Dylan looked at her green eyes for moment, then quickly re-fastened the harness to her. She lowered her head, then pulled as hard as she could. The blade moved, but Applejack looked like she was straining herself, pulling muscles and tendons alike. She gritted her teeth and gasped as she fell to the ground in pain. Dylan scrambled to get to her side and unhook her from the plow. "You're gonna get yourself killed! Why the hell would you try that?!" Applejack looked at him, his concern obvious as it poured from his ocean blue eyes. "I... I jus... NGGGH!" Applejack grunted in pain; it was clear that she had injured herself trying to pull the plow through the cruelly hard soil. Her eyes were watering, glistening in the sunlight. "Mac! Help! Applejack's hurt!" The red working stallion turned and threw his harness off in an instant. He ran to his sister's side, who was holding her stomach and groaning painfully. "Sis, you overdid it." Big Mac kneeled and began to look Applejack over. She cringed and tried to look like she wasn't in any pain as Big Mac checked on her. Dylan looked at the plow and snarled soundlessly at the hard ground. He walked up to the farming equipment in question and stood there for a moment. "What's wrong with me, Mac? How did Ah- Dylan, what in tarnation are you doing over there?" 
Dylan slowly wrapped his hands around the wooden part of the plow and braced his legs. "Aw, no! Mac, Stop him!" Big Mac turned and looked at Dylan. He looked right back at him with a confident smile, then nodded. Big Mac smiled back and looked back at his sister. "Just watch." Applejack stared in concern, her eyes brimming with nervous doubt. Dylan whispered to himself, closing his eyes for a moment and bowing his head. "Lord... give me strength." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he yelled and shoved the plow with all of his might. 

For a second, it seemed as though nothing would happen and Dylan would only hurt himself like Applejack. But, as if by a miracle, the plow began to cut and tear through the earth as Dylan yelled again, pushing the blade along with renewed vigor. The plow split chunks of petrified earth like they were nothing, Dylan's legs now moving at a full run. He was leaning his shoulders into the plow and screaming out in satisfaction. "WOOOOOHOOOOO! YIPPIE-KAY-AY, MOTHERFUUUUUUUUCKER!" 

When he was finished, he returned to the two siblings, who had taken refuge under one of their apple trees. Applejack looked at Dylan in amazement once more, stunned once again at something she didn't think possible. Big Mac simply smiled and nodded. "Told ya' I could do it." Mac turned to him and did what he always did. "Eeyup." 

***

"Ssso... How isss the operation proccceeding?" Tanning was sitting at a long table in what appeared to be a meeting room. The room was cluttered with various maps, charts, documents, and ledgers. "We have excavated more of the caves, as planned. We've found /quite/ the haul of gems and ores down in the deeps." Bregan, who was sitting next to Tanning, and across the table from Rover, spoke. "But they're not the /only/ things you found /down there/, are they?" The large griffon stroked his beak with the tip of a claw, looking down at the diamond dog. Rover's helmet sat on the table in front of him, which he was looking at admiringly. He looked up fearfully and nervously at the mention of 'not the only things'. Rover scratched the back of his head and began looking down at the table."Well... No. There were... well-" He was cut off sharply by Tanning, who hissed and looked right at the pack leader. "Darksssstalkersssss...." Tanning's claws dug into the table, his artificial ones leaving large ruts in the wood. "W-we... Lost a couple guards, and a slave or two, but-" He was interrupted again, this time by Turvehk. "Oh. That's right, caves are completely safe. Nothing dangerous at all in them... Why the fuck didn't you call the rest of your pack back to the fortress so you could hunt them down?" 

Rover's fortress just over thirty of his pack, but that was far from how many he had under his command. There were at least a half-dozen outposts scattered throughout the tunnels, along with the above-ground teams gathering supplies. In all, there were eighty or more diamond dogs under Rover's command. Combined with Tanning's twelve elite griffons, they made a force that was not to be trifled with.

"Because every time we do, the damn things just vanish into the fucking dark! We can't kill them fast enough at this rate." Bregan looked at Rover with a curious twinkle in his aging grey eyes. "How many have you killed?" Rover looked down into an empty goblet sitting next to his helmet; it had once held wine. "Four... SLAVE! MORE WINE, YOU WRETCH!" Rover's yelling was quickly responded by the sound of hooves clicking on the stone floor. A grey pony with a black mane approached Rover carrying a jug. His mane had a peculiar white stripe running down it, indicating some zebra ancestry in his family. His cutie mark was a yin-yang symbol with chains on the outside of the circle. He had an angry look on his face, which he was using to carry the jug of wine. He held it between his teeth and poured it into Rover's cup. The pony was watched closely by a tall diamond dog with a pair of rapiers hanging off of his belt. He wore a black leather coat with metal plates sewn into vulnerable places on his body. Along with the coat, he wore a leather hood of the same fashion, metal plates also protecting his head. His fur was black, and he stared at the pony with cold and uncaring yellow eyes. He looked like he was more wolf than dog, which was most prominent in the way he stood; straight and completely still. The only thing that moved were his eyes, which tracked the grey pony's every move. 

Tanning looked from the slave-pony and back to Rover. He narrowed his gaze, letting his red eyes bore deep into the diamond dog's own. "It sssseemsss that you might need our help... again." Rover gulped nervously; the prospect of owing even more to the griffon scared him. The griffons had already proved their skill once before; eight of Tanning's warriors had killed twenty of his pack with no losses when they first encountered the griffons on the surface.
"Well, the point is we got what we were looking for." Rover picked up the goblet and took a large swig of its contents, licking his lips and shrugging. "How much did you get?" Devinn said, a sparkling look of greed in his gaze. 

The money counter of the griffons was known for his ability to judge an object's value almost flawlessly. He also had a habit of helping himself to the coin from time to time. Tanning tolerated his light-fingered theft, as long as the small griffon stayed away from his share, which was half of the total profit. Bregan's share was a further quarter of the profits, and the remaining money was shared equally among the other griffons. 

"I'll show you what we found this week." Rover smiled proudly, looking quite sure of himself in his own arrogant way. "SLAVE! BRING IN THE CHEST!" The grey pony looked at Rover for a moment with confusion in his eyes. Rover growled and shook his head in anger. "NOT YOU, TRASH! THE BIG ONE!" A low rumble was heard from outside the room, along with a clunk of metal and wood bumping against something hard. The plodding of heavy footfalls could be clearly heard, along with the clinking of a lock. The door swung open and every griffon literally jumped out of their seats, reaching for their weapons. What stood in the doorway was massive, nearly two times Bregan's size. It had thick, matted fur, under which lay muscles strong enough to break a tree clean in half. Its mouth was bristling with thick, wide teeth, and its eyes were black orbs that stared and gazed at the figures around it. Every guard in the room turned and faced it, weapons at the ready. They seemed less shocked than the griffons, though. It was a troll.

"WHAT IN THE NINE HELLSSSSS ISSS THAT THING DOING HERE?!" Tanning roared, his falchion ready to strike at the new arrival to the meeting room. The troll was carrying a large chest, which had an enormous lock hanging off the front of it. The troll was wearing a suit and top hat, which we're worn away into mere shadows of what they had once been. The large chains around the troll's ankles and wrists rattled softly as it came to a stop. Rover laughed, while his bodyguard stood next to him, still as a statue except for his eyes, which watched the troll with vicious sharpness. "That'd be my new pet. Quite a strong one, isn't he?" Rover intertwined his fingers and smiled at Tanning cockily. The troll put the chest down on the floor and backed up a few steps. Rover stood and moved up to the lock, pulled a key from around his neck and opened the chest. What was inside was a cache of jewels and precious metals larger and more impressive than anything the griffons had ever seen. "One week." Rover said proudly, holding up a lawful of treasure, the stones and metals glinting in the torchlight. "And there's plenty more where these came from..." 

> Chapter 13- Passions
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"The Other Side" Chapter 13- Passions

(Okay... we're entering cloplike territory. This IS rated mature, but... just thought I'd warn ya. If Ponies and Humans getting it on isn't your thing, do NOT read this. But if it is... Enjoy. Oh, and you can read until I put a huge SEXY SEX TIME in brackets. P.S. Jake... Don't blame me if you read this, dammit.)

Dylan worked for hours before finally retiring for the day. He felt like every muscle in his body was on fire, and if he didn't put the fire out soon, he'd turn into a pile of ash. 

He was given his day's pay from Big Macintosh, as Applejack was still recovering from straining herself. Dylan worried for her, wondering if it was his fault that she had hurt herself. It wasn't; that was just how Dylan's mind worked. His greatest urge... the most powerful thing about him... was that he would do anything to protect those he loved. He would die for them, and ask for and expect nothing  in return. But his greatest strength was also his greatest weakness; he took on all the pain of those he protected. Whatever their problems, whatever their fears, he would take them. Dylan was a broken man and he knew it. He never regretted it, but sometimes his pain was just too much; he had contemplated suicide many times before. There were three reasons for this desire: His miserable and completely sorrowful love life; his mother's death; his absence of any friends. The only thing holding him back from killing himself on his world was his brother and his faith in his God. 

It was no wonder that Dylan was so full of rage. Dylan had been bullied ever since he was a child. He used to just take it, but then... everything changed. One day, he snapped. He hospitalized two kids, both had bullied him, and both had gone too far that fateful day; they had insulted his family. 

This wasn't the end of his rage as a child, though. Dylan and his brother, Colin, had got in a fight with three boys in a gymnasium. Despite his brother being smaller than all three of their opponents, the brothers beat them within an inch of their lives. They constantly juggled between opponents, throwing wild punches and kicks with furious energy. Their opponents were completely outmatched; the two brothers constantly butted heads, competitively rather than abusively, and they both had a large reserve of aggression deep inside. Dylan though, he was completely filled with rage; rage at tyrants, rage at bigots, rage at hypocrites, rage at liars, rage at those who would dare hurt what people lived so dearly.

He also felt rage at himself for being so selfish, for being so twisted, for being so sinful. His desires for justice and vengeance, along with his rage, were enough to gain some disapproval from his Christian peers. He knew how wrong they were; preaching anger as evil was like saying that having sex is evil. Being angry at evil and at those who practiced it wasn't evil; if you believed that, then you support evil yourself. But, like many things, anger has two sides; the anger of the Avenger, and the anger of the Beast.

***

Fluttershy sat, waiting in the dark, breathing heavily and excitedly. Her heart thumped in her chest; so fast that it seemed like it would burst out and land on the floor, spewing blood all around the room. She looked out of the window, staring into the night with a longing look in her eyes. 

Why do I feel this way? Why do I want to? Is it because I've never really felt like this before? WHY DO I HAVE SO MANY QUESTIONS?!

Fluttershy frowned, looking down at her hooves in disappointment. She shed a single tear, which slowly rolled down her cheek.

Why can't he be like me?... WHY CAN'T /I/ BE LIKE HIM?! 

She stomped down on the floor, the shimmering tear growing ever closer to falling to the ground. Her legs began to quiver, the delicate limbs trembling gracefully, even when she was in complete turmoil. The feelings she felt seemed to smash against each other like warriors in battle; Love and Disgust butted heads inside her soul, each fighting for dominance. 

Fluttershy turned in surprise to the opening door. In the doorway was Dylan. He had been looking at a low angle to unlock his new House's door. Blue, awestruck eyes slowly moved upwards to gaze into teal eyes full of sadness. Dylan lost his balance and stumbled down and landed on his knees; the shock of finding his supposedly empty house occupied by his new friend was too much for him. The word friend wasn't exactly accurate; he felt something more for her...

"F-Fluttershy! What're you-" Dylan's tongue stood completely stiff when he saw the tear finally drop off the side of Fluttershy's face and fall softly to the floor below. His heart seized in his chest; he couldn't stand seeing her sad, he would rather take a heavy beating than see someone he loved cry... As a matter of fact, he'd rather take anything rather than see her cry. "Why are you cryi-" Dylan was cut off mid-sentence by the most unexpected and yet the most wonderful thing he could imagine; Fluttershy kissed him.

She locked her lips to his, wrapping her hooves around his back to pull him close. Dylan's eyes widened completely, and he began to kiss her with the same amount of enthusiasm. His eyes were starting to droop closed when they shot open again. He pulled away from the kiss and broke from Fluttershy's grip. 

She's... SHE'S NOT HUMAN! THIS ISN'T RIGHT! What are you doing?! You're a freak! How could you do that?! 

Dylan's thoughts poured from his mind, yet they didn't feel like his. Dylan looked back at Fluttershy with a mask of dread on his face. She stared at him in shock, then misery. Tears flowed from her eyes like rivers of crystal, each of them containing immeasurable amounts of sorrow. She looked like she was about to try and bolt out the front door to leave Dylan forever. "I... I knew this would happen. I knew you wouldn't... feel the same way. I... I just wanted to show you how... how I feel..."

Fluttershy's mind was a storm of emotions that threatened to burst forth and wash away everything that she had ever wanted with Dylan. 

He... HE DOESN'T LOVE ME! WHY DID I HAVE TO BE A PONY! WHY!?!?!? WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY?!?!?!?!?!? I... I can't... I can't be with him... I can't love him... 

Dylan's mind was just as full of rampant emotion, except that Dylan's mind was more like a war; two different minds fighting to destroy each other. NOOOOOO!!!! YOU'RE NOT ME!!!! I LOVE HER! I LOVE HER!!!! GET OUT! GET OUT!!!!

Dylan's very soul seemed to be crying, weeping tears of spirit as he realized what she must be feeling. 

She's a freak. It's a sin to love her like this, you know; She's an animal. 

This voice seemed to scratch at the surface of his mind like barbed wire against glass, causing him to twitch and writhe in pain. The words had the opposite effect than the other mind intended; Dylan became furious, not at himself, but at the words that had just drifted into his mind. 

No. You're wrong. I love her. To love someone is not a sin... I have enough hatred to know that. You're not God... You don't get to tell me what is wrong and what is right... She isn't the animal... I AM. 

With these final two words seemed to erupt in fire as Dylan's mental power surged, trying to murder, to destroy, to annihilate what had dared to hurt her... His /love. 

Two figures stood on a plain of fire and blackness, facing each other amongst the sharp and rocky ground. One was a twisting mass of flesh with a body made up of an uncountable amount of creatures. Darkness seemed to drift off it in waves, liquid blackness dancing around its body in erratic, nightmarish shapes. It seemed to smile as it looked at the other figure. What faced this abomination looked like something from hell itself; it was a giant canine the size of a grizzly bear, off which dark flames writhed and danced. It stood on two legs with its arms tensed and ready to strike. It's eyes seemed to pour forth a light that could only come from the pit of fire itself, and they were staring right at the chaotic form in front of it. 

With a soul-shaking roar, the hellhound charged, focusing every last shred of bloodlust it possessed into its attack. The roar itself was unimaginably powerful; the earth in front of it exploded in a torrent of flaming shards. It left a burning, jagged crater thirty feet wide, a hundred feet long, and five feet deep. The chaos-thing let out a startled cry; it had underestimated its opponent. It barely evaded the blades, spears and chunks of burning stone hurtling towards it with deadly speed. The hellhound continued to charge, claws scratching and ripping into the evil ground as it shot towards its target like a living infernal missile. The chaos-thing reached out with a tendril of darkness, pointing it directly at the raging beast coming to destroy it. With a sound like a hundred screams, the tendril split, one tendril transforming into a multitude; Every last one of them was a blade aimed at the fiery hound. With a growl, the hellhound leaped high into the air, dozens of feet above the lethal spears of pure, living darkness.The chaos-thing barely had time to scream before wickedly sharp claws eviscerated it into bloody ribbons. A fire seemed to spread around the mass of destroyed flesh on the ground, consuming it. The sound of ghostly screams was heard as the thing's remains were destroyed.

***

Discord screamed as his mind was sent reeling back into his body with enough pain to send destroy the mind of a lesser being. "What... NOOOO!" Discord's cry of frustration remained inaudible to anyone other than himself. His plan -at least for the moment- had failed.

***

Dylan had won. He killed it. He destroyed utterly what had threatened to come between him and his love. He broke out of his thoughts and back into the physical world.
Fluttershy was sobbing, and she ran for the door. Dylan stopped her. She looked into his eyes with fear and confusion, unable to understand what was happening. Dylan made her understand; he held her head in his hands as he pressed his face to hers, kissing her with all the passion in his entire being. All of his emotion was poured into the words he uttered next: 

"I love you." 

He meant them with everything that he was. He had never loved like this before; the only girl he had ever loved had driven him to wanting to kill himself, to thinking he was worthless, that no woman would ever love him. He had never even kissed her nor any female in his whole life in the same way that he kissed Fluttershy then. She froze, her eyes still crying; the reason for the tears wasn't sadness now... It was joy. She wildly began to kiss him back, her tongue finding his as they stood there in the dark. She spoke, but the words were choked and almost impossible to speak, her love for the human... for Dylan overriding every other feeling. 

"And I... I love you."

The two embraced as if there were nothing 
more important than this moment; and to them, there wasn't. Dylan had never felt love like this for anyone so quickly, not to mention someone of a completely different species. He had experienced doubt and disgust initially, dismissing the relationship as something that would never be right. But she had saved his life, and he hers; there was no dismissing how deeply they cared for one another.

He had thought about her being an animal, but he knew that idea was an absolute fallacy; what was the thing that separated humans from animals? Physically, nothing except for the human form itself... which if used as an argument, would be complete bigotry. Mentally, they're smarter. Emotionally, they feel deeper than animals. All of these things seemed to separate these strange ponies from the primitive beasts as well.  He loved her as strongly as he would any other human being.

He ran his fingers through her fur; it was incredibly soft and surprisingly clean, like silk. She had her forehooves wrapped around his shoulders and her pelvis pressed against him. They both gave a slight tremble as their hips pushed together, the touch sending waves of arousal coursing through their bodies. Dylan reached behind himself and pulled the door shut, turning the lock after doing so. Dylan's breathing was slow but deep, full of an expectant, nervous energy. Fluttershy's breaths were the opposite; quick and shallow, but they contained the same excitement and desire that Dylan's did. They continued to kiss, their faces locked together in sensual harmony. Their minds emptied themselves of everything but their love for each other. 

With a slow, sly smile, Fluttershy moved one of her hooves from around Dylan's shoulders and down to his waist. He shuddered as her hoof brushed over his crotch playfully, barely able to contain himself. Fluttershy continued to grin as their tongues twisted and danced around each other, each frantically searching for their counterpart. 

Dylan slid one hand gently around the back of Fluttershy's head, holding her in the kiss that they had been sharing for quite some time now. His other hand traced down her spine, sending chills spreading through Fluttershy like wildfire. After making its way down the mare's back, Dylan's hand found its target; the round, delicate, butter-colored rump of Fluttershy. Dylan's calloused fingers teasingly stroked her backside before cupping the soft flesh and giving it a flirtatious squeeze. Fluttershy giggled playfully as Dylan gave her fine posterior it's rightfully deserved appreciation. 

She pulled him gracefully yet forcefully deeper into the house, keeping her lips put to good use. Dylan nuzzled against her face, his coarse beard tickling her delicate cheeks, inciting even more feminine laughter from her. Dylan laughed too, a deep, joyful chuckle; it was muffled slightly by the act of Fluttershy trying to snog him into senselessness. He cooperated with Fluttershy, following her leading steps towards his bedroom. 

Fluttershy released Dylan from the kiss for a moment to stare into his eyes. "Are... Are you sure we should-" 

Dylan grinned and pressed a finger to her lips. "You're my first.." 

He nodded and literally threw off his coat and jacket with a laugh. Fluttershy blushed, her teal eyes looking at the floor for a moment. She pawed at the ground with one of her hooves, then looked back at Dylan with a bashful expression. 

"M-mine too.." He winked as he pulled his undershirt over his head and picked her up in his arms. "Well, with you, I'm feeling a little intimidated... I mean... you are four years older than me... supposedly." 

(SEXY SEX TIME)

She was considerably smaller than him, but she definitely possessed an enormous amount of sexual energy; this was clear when she pounced on him, pinning him down on the bed. He grunted as she landed softly on top of him, her soft belly pressing against his own. He felt one of his lower extremities in particular hardening with desire. Fluttershy leaned her neck downwards, bringing her face down to Dylan's chest. She rubbed her fluffy cheek against his bare skin, then looked up at him with a wink. 

"You're not quite... undressed yet. Need any help? You seem to be running... out of space." 

She motioned towards the constantly growing indicator of his pleasure. Dylan blushed, scratching the back of his neck in a sort of pleased embarrassment. 

"I can... handle myself." 

This caused another fit of giggles from the normally shy mare laying on top of him. 

"Oh, is that so? Well, then... I guess you don't need me, then?" 

A lusty glimmer in her eyes told him everything he needed to know. He undid his belt and kicked his pants and shoes off with his own look of confidence. He slid his boxers off with one hand, smiling as Fluttershy's jaw dropped. She had thought it looked tiny at some of the other times she had seen his 'equipment'; now she was completely blown away at the enormous size of it. 

"Wh- why is it so BIG?!" 

Dylan smiled, feeling quite cocky (OH DEAR GOD, PUN!) of himself. "Well, that's how I weed out the shallow ones, you see. They think it's small, then BAM! Hehe." He laughed at himself and the thought of that happening to some poor - or very lucky- girl. 

"Hey... your mouth's sure open wide there... expecting something in particular?" 

Dylan's voice went completely sexual at this; it was low, rumbling and completely masculine. Fluttershy gave another girlish laugh and turned around, her rump now right in Dylan's loving gaze. 

"Oh. Nice view." 

Fluttershy giggled and swept her tail across his face, giving her butt a playful shake before lowering her head. 
Dylan went completely rigid and sat up as the wet, soft interior of Fluttershy's mouth closed on his rod. He shuddered and shivered, gripping the bed as hard as he could.
She began to stroke at it with her tongue, and then suck at it with renewed energy. 

"Oh ffffffffuck!" 

Dylan literally sat completely upright, his eyes nearly bulging out of his skull. Fluttershy stopped and turned to look at him, worried she had hurt him. 

"Oh, no! Did I hurt-" 

Dylan literally screamed his next two words, but with at the same time as he laughed. "DON'T STOP!" 

Fluttershy blinked, looked relieved, then giggled and went back to her previous activity. 

"Hey, you're not looking very pleased, there. I've got a surprise for you that'll fix that." 

Fluttershy tried to speak, but as everyone knows, it is hard to talk with your mouth full. 

"A suhpwize? Wh kahnd uff suhp-" 

She was pleasantly interrupted. Dylan grabbed both of Fluttershy's rear legs, pulled them apart, and stuck his face between them. He proceeded to return the favor that Fluttershy had being doing for him. She shuddered, her legs twitching along with most of her body as she felt Dylan's tongue inside her. 

"Oh, GOODNESS! BUCK ME, THAT'S GOOD!" 

Dylan removed his face from between her hips for a split second to speak. 

"I plan to.." 

He recommenced his exploration of Fluttershy's untouched regions. 
After a few minutes of this, along with moaning and laughter from both parties, the two lovers went back to kissing. Dylan flipped his equine partner over with practiced ease, bringing himself on top now. Fluttershy's legs wrapped around Dylan, holding her to him tightly. 

"Ready, Flutterbutt?" Fluttershy stopped kissing at this to stare at Dylan. 

"Flutterbutt?!" She sounded taken aback, and she looked like she hadn't been expecting that. 

"What? I happen to like your rump... It looks quite- MMMPH!" Fluttershy gave him a wildly passionate smooch, then pulled back for a moment. 

"I do have a nice rump, don't I?" 

Dylan laughed and smiled. 

"Yes. The nicest." 

Fluttershy stared into his eyes with a mixture of love and desire, then winked. 

"Flutterbutt... Hmm... I think it's cute." 

"Hahaha... It's just like you. Now let's do this already! This boner is killing me!" 

"Oh... Whoopsie..." Dylan moved his hips into position, preparing to lose both his and his partner's virginities. Fluttershy surprised him by pulling herself onto him, rather than him entering her. 

"Damn! DAAAAAAAMN!!!!"

"OH, SWEET CELESTIA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" 

Once they started, they couldn't stop. Dylan thrust gently but forcefully, careful not to hurt Fluttershy. Quite on the contrary, Fluttershy was moving her own hips rhythmically, pushing them towards Dylan's as fast as she could. She hung off of him contentedly, her mouth hanging open 
to let forth her groans of pleasure. Dylan grunted and moaned in ecstasy, feeling himself going deeper and deeper into her with each movement. He could feel her tightening around his shaft, her muscular lips completely unwilling to release their prize. It didn't even begin to occur to him to stop; he wished it would never end. Fluttershy was panting, each breath filled with erotic joy. Dylan was shaking, his every muscle burning as he both held up an entire pegasus and made love to her at the exact same time.They both felt the climax coming, sensing that they were both about to finally finish their throes of passion.

With a combined sigh, they both released their built-up sexual energy; Fluttershy felt the spray of telltale wet warmth deep inside her, and Dylan felt the flood of hot juices on his manhood as well. They both collapsed, Dylan rolling off to the side, his energy spent. 

After a few moments, Fluttershy turned to Dylan and kissed him on the cheek. He smiled and wrapped his arms around her. Fluttershy slowly spoke, her lips pulling back to reveal her loving smile beneath. 

"That was..."

"Amazing?"

"Yes. Amazing." Dylan laughed as he realized something. "Oh shit. Oh shi- Hahahahaha!" 

"What's so funny?" 

"I've heard of riding a girl, but this time it actually makes sense! HAHAHAHAHA!" 

Fluttershy rolled her eyes and snuggled up to the redheaded human lying next to her. 

"Shut up and kiss me, Three-Legs." 

Dylan opened his mouth to ask what that meant, but then he grinned. 

"Oh, you naughty, naughty girl, you." 

Fluttershy winked and grabbed Dylan's face, then began to kiss him while she laughed uncontrollably. Dylan kissed her back, chuckling lightly as he pulled back the covers and gently slid Fluttershy under them with him. They lay there and kissed for a few more minutes before they fell asleep. They were both the happiest they had ever been in their lives. 





AUTHOR'S NOTE

I hope you guys enjoyed that SMEXY SMEXY chapter. It's the first 'sexy' chapter or sexy anything I've really ever written, do I hope you liked it.

But for those of you who aren't into the lovey dovey stuff (I'M LOOKING AT YOU, BLOODLPOOL!), there will be plenty of violence, destruction and suffering in the next chapters.

Now, If you'll excuse me, I have a rather... NEEDED trip to the bathroom I must take.

NOBODY INTERRUPTS CHUCKLES' CLOPTIME! 

Wait... I don't have hooves... Uh... Clawtime? Pawtime? Aw, fuck it.

I HAZ BONER.

~Emperor Chuckles
> Chapter 14- Death, The Traveller
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"The Other Side" Chapter 14- Death, The Traveller

Gammel Hjerte, the Elder of death... had died. He died in the realm of death, to stop a death that had already happened. Needless to say, reality itself struggled to hold itself together. A rift in time and space itself opened up, a tear in the very stuff of existence. Gammel Hjerte was pushed through this by a human named Peter... or at least he thought it was Peter. He fell into the rift, screaming as reality buckled and twisted around him, the rift threatening to destroy his sanity completely...

It did. It changed him. His body and mind mutated, deformed, turning into something they had not been. Peter's touch, his human hand... it had somehow been touched by the rift energy, a strange surge of power coursing through the Elder. His flesh and blood peeled away, burning up in a flash of unnatural energy. All that was left was bone the white and black fire that surged across Gammel Hjerte like a living thing. His bones twisted and cracked, splitting and reforming into a new form, something more fitting of the Elder of death. 

Gammel Hjerte screamed; an ear-splitting, soul-rending cry of anguish and turmoil. His eyes shone with ghostly white light as he felt another rift opening before him. He screamed again, his body no longer what it had once been; it was much more horrifying than he had previously been before.

His front hooves had cracked and splintered, reforming into what could only be skeletal hands. Each finger was tipped with a blade-like claw, sharp enough to rend meat from bone with terrible ease. His spine straightened, twisting upwards to bring him into a bipedal stance. He felt his front shoulders widen and spread, letting his newly formed arms move more effectively. Spars of bone erupted from his back, spreading outwards into a pair of skeletal wings covered in black and white flames. His skull sprouted new fangs and teeth, like those of a predator. His tailbone lengthened, growing into a six-foot length of jagged bone. At the tip of the tail was a skeletal blade like that of a scythe, which glowed with a malign light. 

Gammel Hjerte exploded out of the other rift into the nighttime sky. With a torrent of fire and energy, he sped downwards to the earth with the sound of his hellish screams filling his ears. He saw mountains, hundreds of them stretched out below him, all covered in snow and ice. The Elder of death shot towards the unforgiving ground with enough speed to tear a pegasus to pieces. He was wreathed in a cloud of ethereal fire which trailed behind him like the tail of a comet. This sight would have driven a lesser being to utter madness.

With a terrible explosion, Gammel Hjerte slammed into the ground. Pieces of burning soil and rock. A thick pillar of black smoke poured out of the crater where the Elder had landed. The sound of his landing echoed across the mountains, the noise bouncing off each peak to carry it to its fellows. Everything went silent after the echoes ceased. 

The Elder of Death did not die again, as was evident by the skeletal hand that now clawed at the side of the crater. Another hand followed it, along with the rest of Gammel Hjerte's nightmarish form. He stood up, staring up at the quickly closing rift thousands of feet above.

"YOU WILL PAY. YOU WILL PAY FOR ABANDONING ME. ALL OF YOU WILL DIE; THE ELDERS... LUNA... CELESTIA... PETER... I WILL KILL YOU ALL. I WILL KILL YOU ALL, DO YOU HEAR ME?!"

Gammel Hjerte's mind and body were forever changed, along with his heart and soul. He was no longer fighting to save a world, but to destroy it.

"DEATH COMES FOR YOU." 



AUTHOR'S NOTE

Gammel Hjerte is from A Chronicle of Choices by Gylden Glør. 

HUR HUR HUR HUR HUR HUR HUR HUR HUR HUR.

> Chapter 15- Dear Sister
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"The Other Side" Chapter 15- Dear Sister

(For ANTI-CONFUSION purposes, this all happened BEFORE Dylan and Fluttershy had their... well... <3   I will let you know when it's back to present time.)

Tanning and the other griffons conversed with Rover for half of an hour, discussing how much supplies they needed, their cut of the diamond dogs' findings, and what should be done about the Darkstalkers. 
Rover was somewhat reluctant to give Tanning his hard-earned riches, but he had learned not to disobey the hardened warrior. He knew little of Tanning's past, but it was obvious that it was all completely and utterly harsh. 

Tanning had grown up in a relatively poor family, whose sole means of income was selling meat and hides up in the mountains. They barely scrounged enough money together to send Gilda to flight school. Originally, it was Tanning who was supposed to have gone to flight school, but he refused, stating that it wasn't 'his way of the warrior'. 

Griffon culture demanded that every child and every adolescent must train in the ways of war; the griffon lands were constantly under attack from monsters, sorcerers, and even themselves. The griffon clans, known as the 'Gyrkaar'', constantly fought one another, and it was among these wars that Tanning found his place. 

Tanning joined his clan's warriors at the earliest possible age, learning the ways of war among other fresh, young recruits. The training was harsh and cruel, as was all of the clans' training regimens; many young griffons died or became crippled while training. Only the strongest became warriors, the rest became outcasts, or 'kheir'. These outcasts were the workers, the servants and the scum of griffon society. Needless to say, they were hated and looked down on by their warrior counterparts. Tanning was strong and brutal enough to join his clan's warriors, along with his only real friend Bregan, who was older than most of the other recruits. 

Bregan was taunted, beaten and mocked by the other new warriors for not joining sooner. Hesitation for fighting instincts was frowned upon in the ranks of the militants. Tanning and Bregan bonded quickly, learning to stick together if they wanted to survive. Quite a few of Bregan's tormentors woke up with their throats slit in the black of night. There was no room for forgiveness for a griffon warrior; you either held your loyalties, or you ended up like those who had sought to sow the seeds of strife within the group; dead. 

Tanning fought in the brutal and vicious clan wars for years, quickly gaining a reputation for sharp, clear thinking and profound martial skills. Tanning and his now lieutenant Bregan amassed quite a following of warriors, who loyally followed them without hesitation. After the captain of the warriors attempted to kill Tanning for disobeying orders, Tanning and Bregan's soldiers slew the captain and all those loyal to him. 

The warriors, under Tanning's control, broke their allegiance with their clan and proceeded to cut a bloody swathe through the griffon lands, heading south towards Equestria. They raided villages along the way, slowly slashing and burning their path away from their previous clan, who now hunted them. 

Tanning and his warriors finally arrived in Equestria, but with heavy losses at the border due to the large amount of Princess Celestia's soldiers. The pony warriors seemed to show no mercy, as did the griffons; it was a complete bloodbath. It was only Tanning's ruthless authority that secured their victory in the end. With heavy losses, the griffon warriors headed towards Cloudsdale, where Tanning's sister had attended flight school. 

He met with her there, leaving most of his men in hiding so as not to alert the city guards. His sister was the only person he truly loved; he trusted Bregan, but never enough to feel anything but camaraderie. His sister was truly surprised to see him because of the nature of the griffon military. The brother and sister met with a great amount of emotion. This was when Tanning learned of Gilda's recent scarring visit to Ponyville. Tanning swore vengeance upon the town, and the two griffons worked together to plan retribution on the town. 

He and his warriors raided, robbed and stole from the surrounding countryside, whilst Gilda blackmailed most of the town,   -  including Sweet Apple Acres - for protection money. The two griffons became quite successful, and things seemed to be going smoothly.

Tanning lost most of his warriors in a fight with Darkstalkers while chasing a group of pony bandits through a system of caverns, along with his arm. After killing most of the Darkstalkers along with a good portion of the bandits, Tanning met a strange hermit who replaced his lost arm with his current machine-limb of stone and steel. Tanning swore to repay his debt to the hermit, who only smiled and shook his head. He insisted that it was a gift, and that it was 'all a part of the great game'. 

Tanning left those caves different from how he had entered; he had changed in spirit as well as body. Something the hermit had done to him left him more than he had been. He was stronger, more vicious, and had a strange sense of renewed purpose. 

Tanning and his warriors returned and encountered a group of diamond dogs (Rover and his pack) and fought with them. The griffons were victorious; the eight of them had not lost a single one, whereas the diamond dogs had lost twenty of theirs. As Rover begged for mercy, Tanning saw an opportunity. He made a somewhat one-sided agreement: Serve us or die. The diamond dogs were all too eager to agree, -with their lives hanging in the balance, few wouldn't be. - starting their long and prosperous alliance with the griffons. 

After a year or two, Rover's dogs had moved from their tunnels into the large cave system where they now resided. They fortified the caves, and after a few months, Tanning came to visit once again, making a stop for supplies and tithes from Rover before going to see his sister. 

The diamond dogs had finished bringing out supplies for the griffons, which consisted of dried goods, oil, and spare equipment. They also laid out a few sacks of coins and gems. All of these things were promptly and smoothly packed into the warriors' kit, with the valuables being placed in Tanning's pack. With the issue of their supplies remedied, the griffons were ready to move once more.

Tanning stood proudly, striking his beak with his living talons as he thought for a moment. His old and grizzled lieutenant Bregan standing behind him with his arms crossed.
Facing them were Rover and his personal bodyguard, Roughnut. Normally, Rex, the taskmaster, would've been present as well, but it was obvious that he was intimidated by Tanning. 

"Is everything ready?" Rover said, his voice hissing slightly in his own particular way. He had both of his hands braced atop the pommel of his sword, and his head was tilted downwards so he could glare at Tanning. 

Bregan turned his weathered eyes to look at his captain and gave a small nod. "Yes." Bregan's beak always twitched when he spoke, and this time was no exception. Bregan turned back to look at Rover's bodyguard, who was coolly and calmly watching the proceedings with his hands crossed in front if him at his waist. Tanning moved his eyes from Bregan and back to Rover, his gaze full of anticipation. 

"Yesss, we will ssset out very ssshortly. I expect you to have your dogsss prepared to deal with the Darkssstalkerss... I earnessstly hope that you and your packmatesss are up to the tasssk of getting your pawsss a little... /bloody/? I wouldn't want to have to make my warriorsss to do it themssselvesss, isssn't that right, my canine friend?" Tanning's artificial hand clenched into a fist as he said this. His other hand moved slowly to the grip of his falchion and tightened around its grip. He was not one to give suggestions, but orders; not to be questioned under pain of death.

Rover gulped and smiled, his look of disdain replaced with one of fearful respect. "Certainly! I'll gather up as many of us as I can. We'll be ready to fight them when you get back, I assure you, Captain." 

Tanning's heart brimmed with loathing for the weak, pathetic, spineless whelp that dared to call himself a leader. He only dealt with Rover because he somehow managed to keep his dogs in check... mostly. Rover's guards had hauled away Rex and were currently flogging him for his disrespect. It could have been a lot worse, as Tanning had executed other diamond dogs on the spot; lopping off their heads, strangling them, drowning them, burning them alive... it all came incredibly easy to Tanning, especially after meeting the hermit.
"They'd better be..." Tanning hissed as he spun on his toes and walked briskly out of the meeting room. Bregan followed closely behind his captain's footsteps, the morningstar at his hip clanking and rattling with each step. 

"Oh ...fuck..." Rover breathed in relief, watching as the griffon left. He knew what would happen if Tanning wasn't pleased, and the thought of it scared him enough to make his hairs stand on end. "I swear, something isn't right about him! He isn't like any griffon I've ever met before." His words were directed at his lupine bodyguard Roughnut, who simply looked at Rover in silence and nodded wordlessly. "If we don't find a way out of this mess with the Darkstalkers, he'll kill us for sure!" Roughnut looked at Rover with a questioning expression, and rested his paws on the hilts of his basket-hilted rapiers, giving them an appreciative look. He looked back up at the alpha and raised an eyebrow. 

Rover shook his head, glancing over his shoulder to check that the griffon warrior wasn't still there, watching him intently with a blade in his hand. "No! Do you remember the last time some of us tried that?! There was blood on the walls for weeks!" Roughnut shrugged and raised his hands, counting out eight fingers on two paws. Rover looked at Roughnut's hands for a moment, his eyes full of doubt. "There's more than a dozen of them, I know that. Last I heard, there were at least two hundred under his command!" Roughnut pointed at the ground; in the dirt were the tracks of griffon claws. He then pointed to a diamond dog paw print, and then a hood print made by one of Rover's slaves. "Yes, he does have more than just griffons.  I know for a fact he's found a few ponies  who seem loyal enough and ruthless enough to join a right bastard like him. A few diamond dogs as well, the filthy traitors..." 
Roughnut growled softly, his eyes narrowing in disapproval. The wolf-dog never said much, but when he did, he meant business.  

"Blood will be shed. That much is certain." 

***

Wind rustled past Tanning's wings as he soared and flew steadily towards his destination. He was heading for the small cabin the two had built to the north of Ponyville. It which stood on the plains at the edge of a copse of trees. The sound of his warriors flying behind him could not be heard by Tanning, who was transfixed on finding his sister. Nothing else mattered to him, not now. 

He spotted the house in the distance, with its heavy timbers and reinforced front door. It seemed like there was no activity at all near the house; no smoke rising from the chimney, no sound of chopping wood, no energetic female griffon doing her daily chores. Tanning was too focused on seeing his sister to notice any of this, and he landed in front of the porch steps with an expression of eager anticipation. Bregan tried to speak up, but Tanning cut him off. "Sssisster! Gilda! It'sss Tanning, how goesss the work?" Tanning knocked on the door, giving a wide griffon smile. 

He stood there for a minute before Turvehk spoke. "Boss, I don't think she's-" Tanning whirled and grabbed the one-eyed archer by the throat, his stony claw locked around his neck like a vice. "She's jussst busssy... Now ssshut your mouth, Turvehk." Tanning released him, which caused a bout of wheezing and coughing from the warrior as the pressure on his throat was released. "Gildaaaaa! Sssissster, I grow tired of waiting." 

Tanning shook his head and pulled a key from a pouch at his belt. He put the key in the lock and turned it; the door was polite enough to open without a fuss. He walked inside, his long talons clicking on the wooden floor. His eyes scanned the living room with a look of impatience. 

He saw the empty couch and the low table with a few glasses, a bottle of gin from the griffon lands, and a few small candles. The floor was dusty, along with the glasses. The fireplace was filled with unburnt logs, which looked as if they were ready to be set alight. The whole room looked as if no one had cleaned it in a few days. He passed the room over without a second thought and walked to the small kitchen. 

The kitchen told the same story; there had been no one inside for a few days. Tanning hissed, turning and heading for his sister's bedroom. He opened the door with a grunt of irritation, his face now contorted in a scowl. The plain bed was empty and its blankets were ruffled and thrown back; it had not been made up for sleep. The bedroom mirror was coated in the same dust as the rest of the furniture in the house. He saw his angry reflection in the dirty glass; it made him angrier. 

He threw open the door to his room. She wasn't there. He looked towards the last remaining room on the main floor; the study. The door seemed to loom in front of him like an angry shape. It twisted and warped for a split second, and before Tanning could notice it, it returned to its normal appearance. 

"SISTER!"

He slammed into the door to the study, breaking it completely off of its hinges. The wood splintered and slammed to the ground with an resounding /boom/. Tanning barged inwards, his eyes full of fury and confusion. She wasn't there either. 

"GGGGRRRRAAAAAH!" 

Tanning slammed his stone fist into the wall, sending bits of wood scattering in all directions. He punched straight through the wall, leaving his artificial hand jutting through the wall in the direction of his warriors; All of them except Bregan flinched. 

"WHERE ISSS SSSHE!?"

Bregan shook his head, then blinked as he saw something on the study desk; Gilda's journal. "Captain..." Slowly and carefully, the old warrior pointed a taloned finger at the book. Tanning hissed, then stopped when he saw Bregan pointing. He whirled around and looked at the journal with a frantic hope in his eyes. He rushed over to the book and furiously read the latest entry:

I haven't collected protection in a while, so I think it's time I filled my pockets a bit.

That hicktown's apple farm seems like a good place to start. That little snot Applejack sure won't be happy to see me. I'll make sure she suffers nice and long...

On another note, I've been hearing rumors of a strange creature appearing in the Everfree. The damn ponies are probably swarming all over it... fucking meddling little shits.

Sweet Apple Acres will be a whole lot more sour once I'm done.

Tanning stared at the date of the entry; it was two days old. Gilda was never late for anything. With a roar, Tanning sprinted out of the room barging his way through his warriors in his rush to get outside.As soon as he cleared the porch, he leaped into the air and took flight. The other griffons frantically launched themselves after their leader, their wings beating against the air furiously.

***

Applejack was sitting in her bed, nursing her injury from this afternoon. The sprain was slowly getting better, but trying to move still sent jolts of pain shooting up her sides. She was never known for being weak or unable to handle pain; apart from Rainbow Dash and Big Macintosh, she was the toughest pony in the town. But she was feeling a pain of a different sort. Her heart was aching, longing for something she did not think she would ever have; love. 

Dylan... I want so much to be with him... to be near him... to talk to him... to touch him... to hold him... Why do I feel do strongly for him? I know we're friends, but... I want... I want to be so much more than that... 

Applejack pulled the heavy blankets of her bed overtop of herself, hiding her obvious feelings, which even now showed physically. She looked out of her window at the stars, blinking away the moisture in her eyes.

Where did he come from? He said he was from... Earth. But, where is that? Doesn't he want to get back home?

Applejack felt sorry for Dylan. Stranded away from home, without his friends or family, in an unfamiliar place; it seemed completely unfair, and to Applejack it must have seemed horrible. In reality, Dylan was happier than he had ever been; he didn't have to live every day like it could be his last, he was away from all the pains of his past, and he had just found the love of his life. 

She was looking up at those same stars, when suddenly they seemed to vanish from the sky. The area around them went black as something passed in between her eyes and the celestial bodies. She barely had enough time to be surprised when her window shattered as a seven-foot tall griffon crashed through it. Applejack screamed, trying desperately to get away. 

"WHERE ISSS SSSHE?!?!" The griffon's voice was a growling hiss, full of hatred and ire, and it's eyes seemed to glow with an evil light. Applejack tumbled out of her bed and landed on the floor hard enough to paralyze her with pain, as she had landed on her sprained muscles. 

"AHHH! Who the hay are you?!" Applejack blurted, sliding backwards on the floor in an attempt to get as far away from the griffon as possible. Its beak opened in a show of anger, the sharp, serrated edge of its mouth dangerously bared at her. It yelled again, globs of viscous spittle spraying from its mouth and landing on the floor in front of it.

"WHERE ISSS SSSHE?! WHERE ISSS MY SSSISSSTER?!?!" 

It was obvious it was a male, simply by the size of it. It towered over Applejack, who was only around four feet tall when standing on all fours. "W-who's yer-" Applejack's words where drowned out by the griffon's next barrage of sound.

"WHERE ISSS GILDA?!" The griffon grabbed the orange work pony by her neck with a giant, taloned hand, which was made of polished black stone and grayish metal. He lifted her up into the air and moved his face within inches of hers. "TELL ME!" 

*** 

Twilight's mind raced as the thoughts that Starswirl the Bearded's book had gave her burned in her head like tiny sparks.  
He was murdered! And just as he was about to finish his investigation! This doesn't feel right, I must talk to Zecora. She'll know what to-

Twilight's thoughts on the previous subject stopped when she heard a familiar scream; it was Applejack. The scream came just after the sound of glass shattering. Yelling from another voice followed the scream, and then Applejack wailed again. 

Twilight ran with all her strength towards the noise coming from Sweet Apple Acres. The only thing that mattered now was making sure that her friend was safe. Her hooves thundered against the dusty ground as she moved rapidly towards the rustic farmhouse.

Twilight jumped the porch steps and burst through the door. Another scream came from upstairs, full of fear and pain, but muffled slightly.

"WHERE. ISSS. GILDA?!" 

The roar was deafening, and the last word was practically loud enough to shatter glass. Twilight bolted up the stairs and rounded the corner to stare at the seven and a half tall griffon holding up applejack by her throat. He appeared terrifying in the moonlight, his cruel eyes flashed towards Twilight as he hissed.

"KILL HER." 

He pointed a wicked talon at the unicorn mare, and several hooded griffons with drawn weapons stepped from the darkness, moving towards Twilight with looks of anger on their faces. Applejack turned her head to look at Twilight with fear and  resignation in her eyes. "TWILIGHT, RUN!" 

She did. She turned and fled down the stairs, screaming as she did. She heard the skittering of claws following close behind her, along with the rustle of cloaks and the clattering of weapons. As soon as she got to the bottom of the stairs, there was a heavy thud and the cracking sound of wood breaking. A griffon stood in front of her, holding a hammer in one hand and a shield in the other. 

Twilight screamed again as her horn exploded with ethereal purple light. A blast of magical energy shot forwards and slammed the griffon into the wall nearest the door. The sound of bones breaking and the griffon crying out in pain filled Twilight's ears. The griffon tried to stand, but fell back with a squawk of pain. Twilight didn't hesitate and kept running, kicking the door open as she desperately fled her assailants. 

The griffons rapidly closed with Twilight as she ran, their wings moving them faster than Twilight's hooves could carry her. There were four of them following her, screeching and cawing like they had gone rabid. 

Twilight's heart beat in her chest like a drum. Her temples throbbed with exertion as adrenaline flooded through her system, pushing her onwards. She knew the griffons would catch her at this rate; she just wasn't fast enough to outrun them. 

She realized something obvious then: She could teleport. She focused her magical energy through her horn, which sparked and crackled for a moment before she disappeared in a burst of light. She shouted in victory in relief, almost collapsing. Then she heard the yells. "Over there! There she is!" Twilight turned in horror to notice that she had only moved a few hundred feet away. She picked herself up as fast as she could and redoubled her efforts to escape her attackers. She had to get back to Ponyville; it was her only hope.

(Present time. I recommend playing Invaders Must Die by The Prodigy. HERE BE THE LINK! INVADERS MUST DIE.)

Thunder and lightning crashed high above and hard rain came down like millions of tiny projectiles. Evil black clouds obscured the moon, leaving the ghostly lightning as the only source of illumination. 
Twilight ran through the streets, pleading for help. "Help me! Somepony, help me! HELP ME!!!" The streets were empty, and frightened pairs of eyes peered from between shutters and curtains, their owners to scared to move or speak; the giant armed griffons outside were too dangerous for them to do anything. Twilight simply screamed in fear, begging to be saved from the brutal avians. She darted through alleyways, heading subconsciously for the one person she knew would help. 

The sound of wings beating mere feet behind her made Twilight cry out in fear once more, tears pouring down her cheeks. She knew she was dead, she felt the blade poised behind her, ready to strike. She felt the breathing on her neck, the hot stench of death full in her nostrils. At that moment, she saw what appeared to be a shadow standing directly in front of her in the street at least twenty feet away. Lightning arced through the sky and illuminated the shape; it was human...It was Dylan.

"DYLAN!!! HELP M-" 

She saw the griffon's blade swinging towards her in the dark, and was about to scream when a glint of light on metal from Dylan's direction. Thunder roared at the same moment as she saw the shining point of light come from the darkness. She barely had time to react as the whirling blade of a kitchen knife flashed past her face and embedded itself in the griffon's chest. He stumbled backwards as his strike went wild and missed Twilight. He let forth a gurgling cry as blood filled his throat and lungs, and his eyes filled with shock and horror as he looked down at the handle of a knife jutting from his chest. 

He didn't have long to live, however, as Dylan ran forward, his coat billowing behind him in the wind. The griffon's eyes darted towards the new threat, and his sword leaped up to try and slash at the black-coated human. Dylan bent his legs and spun like a top, ducking his head under the blow. With all the force of his rotation, Dylan brought a second knife to bear, slamming the tip through the griffon's ribs. In the same split-second, he wickedly yanked the first blade from the griffon's chest. What happened next was almost impossible; within three seconds, Dylan stabbed the griffon at least a dozen times. With each stab, Dylan roared in anger, spittle spraying from between his sharp and pointed teeth. 

Blood leaked from the jagged holes in the griffon's chest, pouring down into the mire that was the ground. The red of blood and the brown of dirt pooled together on the ground, creating a sickly color in the murky water below. The griffon's eyes shot open wide and he sucked in air to breathe, only to find that his lungs could have been used as a sieve. A second later his chest cavity exploded inwards as Dylan's foot slammed into his sternum. He flew a dozen feet through the air and slid through the muck, stopping at the feet of his comrades. They all looked down at their completely dead friend and his destroyed chest. The damage to their fellow griffon was horrifying; holes were scattered all around his abdomen weeping his dark lifeblood, along with his collapsed ribcage, which was completely smashed inwards as easily as if it were made of twigs. They looked back up at the creature before them. They had never seen anything like it in their lives. 

Dylan stood in front of Twilight with his back to her. If she had been in front of him, she would have seen that his jaws had stretched to accommodate inch-long fangs and his licking outwards from eyes were dark flames. Dylan's snarling cry of murderous rage sent icy fingers of fear raking across the hardened griffon warriors' bodies. They had killed, pillaged and stole and they had fought bizarre and terrifying creatures, but the monstrous being that stood in front of them terrified them. They charged him in spite of their fear, screaming battle cries. 

Dylan sidestepped a spear thrust from one of the griffons, only to move directly into the path of another one's war pick. The deadly point was stopped inches from Dylan's skull by his crossed knife blades. The third griffon maneuvered to get around his spear-wielding comrade, holding his long-hafted axe tightly in his weathered talons. Dylan snapped his foot outwards again, kicking his opponent's shield. The griffon stumbled and slipped in the muck, falling onto his back. Dylan was about to jump on the downed griffon and shiv him to his bestial heart's content, but an axe-blade was rapidly moving towards his neck. Dylan rolled forwards, ducking under the axe's swing. The bladed tip of a spear shot towards him like a snake, but Dylan shoved it to the side with an unnatural ease. 

The griffon with the pick and shield was picking himself up when he saw the thing they were fighting bat away his comrade's spear and proceed to whirl like a top with his knives extended. The spear-griffon gagged and fell to the ground as his throat sprayed blood furiously. Both knives had sliced neatly through both the front of his throat. He twitched and fell backwards, dead and limp into the mud and filthy water. The axe-griffon swung again, bringing his axe around to try and split the thing's skull in half. The thing somersaulted to the side, but the axe-griffon counter-swung, smashing it in the face with the wooden haft of his axe. It fell to the ground, dropping its blades and landing on its back in the muck. The shield-griffon ran forwards, raising his pick above his head. His comrade tried to chop it again, but it leaped into a crouched stance and dodged out of the way. 

Immediately after avoiding one swing, Dylan watched as the griffon wielding the axe brought it down towards him, trying to cleave him into two bloody pieces. He reacted with a speed faster than anything he had before. One fist swung towards the haft of the griffon's axe, whilst the other folded outwards into an open hand. The axe swing was interrupted mid-strike as Dylan's fist shattered the axe's haft a few inches below the head. His other hand caught the piece of the axe which was now hurtling towards his face, spinning it around in his hands so that the blade faced away from him. The reality of what had just happened dawned in the axe-griffon's eyes as Dylan brought the axe's head slamming into the side of his skull with a wet crunching noise. He slumped to the ground with his brains and blood dribbling from his split-open cranium. Dylan turned to give the final griffon a demonic grin, laughing deeply. He hefted the axe head in his hands, ducking under the swing from the griffon's pick. Dylan tried to chop at the griffon's face, but his blow was blocked by his shield. 

The blade was now embedded in the shield, giving the griffon a chance to attack. He swung the pick downwards, the point poised to pierce a brutally messy hole in the top of Dylan's skull. Dylan caught the pick between his hands and twisted. The crack of bones breaking filled the griffon's ears as his wrist was snapped like a pair of toothpicks. His weapon fell uselessly to the ground. He tried to swing the edge of his shield at Dylan, but the enraged human brought his elbow slamming down on it. The wooden shield splintered and fell in pieces from the griffon's arm. Without hesitation, Dylan stepped forwards and squeezed the griffon's neck in his vice like grip. He lifted him into the air and grinned at him. The griffon screeched and pulled a dagger from his belt with his good hand. He stabbed desperately at the arm holding him. With a snarl, Dylan crushed the griffon's neck between his fingers. 

He dropped the lifeless corpse of his last enemy to the ground with a sigh of victory. He looked around at the four bodies, smiled, and turned back to Twilight. His face returned to normal before Twilight could see it. She sensed something strange about Dylan; something dark and... animalistic.

"Twilight, what the fuck's going on?!"

The mare's eyes were crying. She was staring at the four bodies scattered around the street. She could scarcely hold herself together, as the amount of violence she had just witnessed was the most horrifying thing she had ever saw... Even more horrifying than those griffons chasing her in the dark, ready to kill her. She shivered and stared at the terrified dead eyes of the griffons. 

"TWILIGHT! Snap the hell out of it!" 

She flinched and looked at Dylan with  a mixture of fear, disgust, relief and confusion. 

"Wh-what?"

Dylan's face was an expression of deep concern, and his eyes were pools of a nervous curiosity.

"What's going on?"

Twilight remembered. She began crying once again.

"They have Applejack!"


AUTHOR'S NOTE

The bodycount is now TRIPLED. I hope you're happy... I SURE AS HELL AM!
> Chapter 16- Intruders
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"The Other Side" Chapter 16- Intruders

(There... Uh...  might be some unsavory stuff in this here chapter, but please trust uncle Chuckles; I'm lookin' out for you guys.)

Apple Bloom was shaking. Her legs could barely hold herself up and her knees felt completely numb. She heard her sister scream, the sound of glass breaking, and a low, hissing voice yelling in anger. Something was horribly wrong. 

She slowly crept towards the door of her bedroom on trembling hooves. The floorboards seemed to creak and groan as if they themselves wanted her to be found by whatever was out there. She trembled as she crouched low and pressed up against the door, putting her eye up to the keyhole. 

The hallway was dark except for a small sliver of moonlight that crept in through a window. It was completely black. For a moment, it seemed as though nothing was there. But as soon as Apple Bloom was about to open the door, two yellow eyes seemed to materialize out of nothing. A shape emerged from the black along with the eyes; a six-foot tall mass on two legs. It held a heavy-looking crossbow in its clawed hands, and it was loaded. Apple Bloom started to scream, but she stopped herself. The shape twitched and looked at the door, bringing its weapon to bear. The griffon -it was clear what it was, now that it was fully covered in the moonlight- walked slowly towards the door, raising its clawed hand towards the knob.  Apple Bloom was now quaking in fear and backing away from the door with tears in her eyes. She knew it would find her. She knew it would hurt her. 

Suddenly, Applejack screamed again. It sounded muffled somehow, as if a hand had been placed on her lips. Three words -with the force to make one's chest reverberate with their power- exploded from Applejack's bedroom: "WHERE. ISSS. GILDA?!" The griffon in the hallway stopped and turned his head to look back towards Applejack's room, then slowly turned back to the door. Another burst of noise echoed throughout the house as the front door slammed open. The griffon spun this time, searching for the source of the noise. Apple Bloom heard the hissing voice again. "KILL HER." There was the sound of multiple screeches, followed by the sound of Applejack's distraught voice. "TWILIGHT, RUN!" 

There was the sound of two screams, a crash, and a yelp from one of the griffons. Apple Bloom slowly moved to the door and opened it. She noticed two wickedly taloned feet on the floor in front of the door. The young earth pony looked up with horror at the pair of yellow avian eyes staring at her with surprise. The griffon was looking down the sights of his crossbow at her, but when he saw who had just wandered into the hall, he lowered his weapon and grinned. A twisted and hungry light seemed to twinkle in his two yellow and black spheres. His beak opened in a pleased smile, his tongue sliding slowly out from between it, licking at its tip with a sick appetite.

"Well, what do we we have here? A little pony? Don't worry, little filly, I ain't gonna hurt'cha." 

Apple Bloom shrieked and fell flat on her tiny rump, her eyes filling with fear. She backpedaled and tried to push herself away from the griffon advancing towards her with a lusty look on his face. He slung his crossbow and crouched low, reaching out his hand to touch the small, grayish olive filly. Apple Bloom scooted back another foot, avoiding the griffon's touch like it was deadly. "S-stay b-b-back, y' hear!" She blurted this with a nervous energy that only seemed to make the griffon move closer. "I ain't gonna do nothin' bad to ya, little filly. I just wanna touch ya." He continued to step closer towards the young pony, his eyes locked on her with an intense focus.  Apple Bloom screamed again as his hand brushed her slightly; she didn't give him the chance to do anything else. She ran to her window, threw it open, and jumped out.

Apple Bloom rolled down her house's angled roof, knocking a few shingles loose. The sound of the shingles shattering against the ground was heard by a soft thud as Apple Bloom landed on her hooves atop the small shed (The same one that... uh... you know...). The shed made a hollow cracking noise as some of the weakening boards on the shed's roof split. Apple Bloom hopped of the top of the shed and stumbled as she hit the muddy ground. She wasted no time. She began to run as fast as she could towards the barn, which was among one of the most secure structures on the farm; more so than the house as it was still full of angry, armed griffons. 

Apple Bloom heard the flap of wings behind her, followed by the splash of the griffon landing behind her. She was just inside the barn when taloned hands wrapped around her body firmly, preventing her escape. Her squeal was cut off by a hand clasping over her mouth. "Na-a-ah. Morrg wants ta' be alone. We wouldn' wan' no one walkin' in on us, would we, little filly?" The griffon grinned to himself and lifted the now-squirming Apple Bloom over to a pile of freshly cut hay. "Looks nice' n' cozy, don't it missy?" He chuckled to himself as she continued to try to wriggle free of his grip. He licked his beak again and looked at the green eyes of the small pony. "Yer' a feisty one,  aren't ya'? Morrg likes it when you're fiesty." 

Apple Bloom tried to scream again, but Morrg clamped his fingers around her mouth, grinning down at the filly with sickening glee. His other hand was busily unhooking the hardened leather codpiece that he wore attached to his leather armor. His fingers looped around the straps and tugged, pulling the whole thing off in one smooth motion. He tossed it aside with another lick of his lips. He straddled Apple Bloom now, pressing his knees together to keep her pinned down in the warm yet damp hay. He smiled as his pride slid out of its hiding place deep between his hips, coming into view with a terrified look from Apple Bloom. "S' all right, darlin'; it ain't gonna hurt ya'... much. Now let's have some f- AAARGH!!!"

Morrg's scream was one of pain; Apple Bloom had just chomped down on his fingers with all of her might. The sound of cracking bones and popping cartilage sounded out into the rainy night air. She had broken at least two of his fingers, which looked mangled and bloody. A number of tiny, square bite marks seeped richly dark blood from Morrg's scaly, taloned fingers. "YA FUCKIN' DEVIL CHILD! MORRG'LL GUT YA FER' THAT!" Morrg pulled a long, single-edged knife from his belt and proceeded to raise it above his head. Apple Bloom squealed and brought her hoof upwards into the Morrg's fully exposed groin. There was a howling scream in the air then as Morrg fell over sideways, thudding down into the dirt. Apple Bloom shot up, trying to get to the door, but Morrg still stood in the way. She darted into the next stall over in the barn, squeezing between the posts and gates with ease. 

Morrg pulled himself up from the ground, body-wracking pain shooting up from one area directly between his legs. It was as if there was a fiery explosion spreading from that one small spot and through his entire nervous system. He growled and glanced around, holding the knife in his white-knuckled hand. He spoke again, but his voice was a croak due to the tremendous amount of pain he was feeling. "C'mere... L-little filly, M-Morrg didn't... really mean that. C'mon out. I'm just a little... AGH... Frustrated..." Apple Bloom had accidentally cornered herself, which the griffon noticed very quickly. "So there ya' are. Come ta' Morrg, now." He stepped forwards, his tongue once again darting out and licking the edge of his beak. "That's it, stay still... Morrg ain't gonna hurt-" Apple Bloom flung the heavy rock that she had been hiding right at the griffon. With a crack, it slammed right into his open beak. It hit it with such force that it cracked it nearly in two. Shards of it fell to the ground, small black pieces scattering through the hay-strewn floor. 

"AAAAAAAAAAAGGHHHK!!! MH BHKKK! YA LIDDL FFHKN BITCH!" 

Morrg rushed forwards, knocking Apple Bloom to the ground with a hard kick. He pulled the knife back to stab her through the chest, his yellow eyes aflame with anger. "Ah dunt' need yahs' alive fer' this!" Blood sprayed from the griffon's ruined beak and onto Apple Bloom, the specks of red spattering all over her grey-olive fur. Morrg didn't notice the enormous shadow directly behind him in the barn. He did notice the low growl that came from it, however. The growl was followed by a bellowing roar, which seemed to shake through the entire barn. The sickly sound of metal plunging into flesh followed after the roar. Morrg stared down in horror at the four metal points that had just exploded forth from his guts; they were completely coated in his own blood. Morrg screamed as the points were yanked brutally from his intestines, allowing putrid smelling gas to seep from his opened insides. Feces and blood gushed out of the gaping holes in Morrg's belly. He spun and charged his attacker, heavy on his feet. Morrg's knife sliced into something fleshy, and it came back red with blood. 

The large shape looming in the darkness moved suddenly, kicking the wounded griffon backwards towards the barn wall. The kick broke ribs, sending even more pain arcing through Morrg's body. The dark figure lunged forwards, driving the bloodied four-pointed pitchfork through the griffon and into the wooden wall. Morrg screamed again and pushed on the pitchfork embedded in his insides; it wouldn't budge. He couldn't reach his attacker with his knife, so he tried to draw his crossbow. The pitchfork had caught the crossbow's strap between one of its points and pinned it to the wall, and Morrg couldn't pry it free. He cut the strap with his knife and brought the crossbow upwards to aim at the large shape. Before he could send the bolt hurtling into his enemy's chest, his weapon was slapped out of the way; It clattered uselessly to the ground. The figure bent down and picked it up. It backed up a few steps before raising it. Moonlight from the barn door streamed in, illuminating the figure. The first color that was seen was red. Two green eyes glared at Morrg with murderous anger and unforgiving hatred. Big Macintosh raised the crossbow to aim at the griffon's head, grinning as he did. Morrg's eyes widened as he stared down the bolt. "Not yet." Big Macintosh growled, his voice taking on a bestial tone. He moved the crossbow downwards slightly, bringing the sights to aim lower... much lower. There was no mercy in the work pony's eyes as he fired the crossbow. The bolt made a disgusting stomach-churning splattering sound as it punched through Morrg's exposed crotch. Morrg shrieked as various kinds of his bodily fluids sprayed all over the straw-strewn ground. 

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!"

It was obvious now that Morrg's comrades had heard the scream, but the fight wasn't over. Morrg screeched in anger and pulled an axe from his belt. He hurled it at Big Macintosh with pain-induced fury. It whipped past Big Mac's skull by mere inches; he had moved his head slightly to one side. "Now it's time." The red stallion dropped the spent crossbow and picked up a shovel that was resting on the barn floor. He hefted it in anticipation as he walked towards the griffon he had speared to the wall. Morrg screamed again, hopelessly trying to pull the pitchfork from the wooden boards so that he could escape. He knew he wouldn't make it. In one last final act of defiance, he slashed out at Big Mac with his knife. The farmer caught the blow with the shovel's handle, squinting slightly as splinters flew at his face from where Morrg's knife had cut. He pulled his weapon back to swing,  then slammed the shovel's edge into the front of Morrg's face with an angry roar. He literally split the griffon's face in two, splattering brain and blood across the wall and all over his face. He pulled the gore-drenched shovel from the corpse's skull, then paused to flick the brain matter and bits of skull from its blade. Morrg's face dripped its grisly fluids down to the ground below. The whole sight was terrifying; a skewered body hanging limply like a ragdoll, a crossbow bolt lodged in its groin, its lower half drenched in feces and blood, it's beak smashed, and it's face split nearly in two. 

Apple Bloom vomited in the back of the barn, spewing her stomach contents into a puddle of water. The puddle was brown, but the brown wasn't all mud. There were splotches of red in the water as well. Apple Bloom's regurgitated chunks of apples and hay mixed in with the disgusting water. Staring down at the water made her puke again. Big Macintosh walked towards the small filly, caring concern in his eyes. A ragged rent in his forehead was pouring blood down the front of his face. "Sis?...... You okay?" Apple Bloom swallowed back the retchings she was just about to release and looked up at her brother. She nodded slowly, her eyes full of revulsion, surprise, and thankfulness. "Y-yes... Mac, t-they've g-g-got Apple- Look out!" She was too late; the barbed arrow slammed into her brother with a sickening thuck. 

"Mac! No!!!" 

Apple Bloom broke into tears as her brother shook and fell to the ground. He caught himself on one knee, bracing himself up with one hand while the other kept its grip on the shovel. He turned and looked out the barn door as blood ran into his eyes from the cut on his forehead. He could see the griffon standing in the doorway, holding a bow in his talons. He reached behind his back and pulled an arrow from his quiver. He nocked the arrow on the string as his expression became one of satisfaction. Big Mac stood with a groan and began limping towards the griffon, hefting his shovel. The griffon smiled and pulled back the string on the bow, listening to the creaking of the wood with satisfaction. 

Big Mac knew he would die. He didn't care. He would die protecting his family, and that was all he cared about. He didn't make a single noise as the second arrow buried itself in his shoulder. He stumbled back a step and almost fell over, but he steadied himself defiantly, blinking through the haze of red falling down over his gaze like a final curtain. He knew that he wouldn't survive the next arrow. He continued to plod forward, gritting his teeth in anger at the bastards that dared to hurt his family. "No!" Applebloom screamed, her voice full of sorrow. The griffon smiled as he retrieved another arrow from his quiver. He readied his shot with murderous glee in his eyes, the barbed metal tip of the arrow glinting in the eerie moonlight. Big Mac walked forward; he knew these last steps would be his death. The griffon saw the death lurking in Big Macintosh's eyes, and he relished the moment. His fingers loosened on the string, preparing to send his enemy to whatever afterlife he was destined for. They loosened even more as the griffon's head slid from his shoulders with a wet chopping noise. Blood sprayed from his severed neck, fountaining into the air in a beautiful and morbid display. The arrow soared narrowly past Big Macintosh's head, slicing through his mane like a cool breeze. It passed so close to his face,  he could have seen each individual scratch and dent on the arrow's tip. The griffon's headless body toppled backwards, the bow slipping from its lifeless claws. The body collapsed into the dirt, followed by its head. A dark figure stood beside the corpse, his blade forward, as he had just struck a killing blow; it was obvious by the blood on his blade, which glowed crimson in the ghostly light. The figure breathed, letting forth a sound like a growl. His breath condensed in the cold and rainy air, billowing outwards like smoke. His head turned to Big Macintosh, who had now collapsed into his knees and was staring with open jaws at the dark figure. "They're after Applejack. Keep your sister safe. Stay here; you're wounded. I can handle this." Big Macintosh spoke with awe and surprise, but there was a hint of gratefulness in his words as well. "Ya'... Sure do know when t' show up, pardner." Dylan simply nodded and began running towards the house.

***

The griffons had all heard Morrg's scream. They turned as one towards the sound. Turvehk's single eye darted towards the barn, his beak trembling as he spoke. "That was Morrg! What the fuck?!" Another of the griffons spoke up; it was the one Twilight had injured, Rurakar. "Shit! What in the living fuck is going on over there?!" One of the other griffons, named Roric, jumped out the shattered window and glided down to the ground. He ran to the barn and proceeded to fire two arrows into it. As he fired a third, a coat-wearing figure sliced his head right from his shoulders. The figure turned to the barn for a few moments, then proceeded to run straight for the house. Everyone in the room saw this, including Applejack. She let forth a muffled cry as she saw him running towards the house, trying to warn her friend of the danger. Tanning noted this with grim satisfaction. "Ah, ssso you know him, eh? Well, get ready to sssay goodbye." Applejack screamed, finally getting her mouth free so that she could speak again. "Dylan, just run! Leave me!" Tanning smiled, laughing cruelly as he waved his men forward. The griffons who had bows or crossbows took positions at the windows of the house. There were sounds of glass shattering as they proceeded to break any intact windows that would block their shots. "How noble... Kill him." The sounds of twanging bowstrings and the clunk of crossbows firing filled the air, along with numerous deadly projectiles. 

*** At the sound of Applejack's warning, Dylan ran faster, pounding the wet ground with his feet. His heart was thumping at least two times per second. Adrenaline sent him into a frenzy, filling him with an angry energy. At the sound of shattering glass, he knew what was coming next, yet he ran towards it anyways. He could see the glint of steel in the windows, and he grinned like a madman as he saw the griffons unleash their volley of fire upon him. He dodged between every last bolt and arrow, moving so fast that he was almost a blur. The sound of surprised shouting came from the house as the griffons saw that they hadn't hit their target. "Reload! Fuck, it's still coming!" A few seconds passed as they fired again with the same result. The griffons frantically tried to fire for a third time. There was a mocking laugh from one of the other griffons, followed by the creak of a bow. One last arrow shot from the house towards Dylan. It was so fast that he could hardly see it. The arrow hit him dead center in the chest, where his heart should've been. The griffon laughed as Dylan slowed to a stop some thirty feet from the house. Dylan looked down at the arrow, then back at the one-eyed griffon watching from the window. "You're dead." The griffon's words felt like knives to Applejack, who wailed in misery. Dylan looked at the griffon with his ocean blue eyes, and the griffon watched as the blue became red. Dylan chuckled at first, then the chuckling became a laughing, and finally the laughter became a bellowing cackle. The griffon stared at Dylan in horror as he leaped, still howling like a madman. He flew the thirty feet through the air to the window, his coat whipping in the air behind him. He landed at the window's edge with the sound of cracking wood. His laughing stopped for a second as he spoke, his face maniacally twisted in an expression of insane intent. "You're dead." Turvehk didn't have time to scream; the blade being slammed brutally through his heart left him breathless. Dylan smiled at the one-eyed griffon with fire in his eyes, then pulled his sword from the limp body of the archer. 

Turvehk's eye locked its sight on his killer. In his last moments of life, he saw something that his fellows did not... He saw something horrible... something hellish; there seemed to be something hanging over the human. It was a twisted and feral creature. It was canine, and fire came off it in waves. Its eyes poured forth an otherworldly red light; the light of a thousand dying suns glowing the color of blood. The creature's mouth was full of massive teeth, all capable of tearing flesh and bone asunder with ease. It turned to look at him and let forth a roar that only he could hear. It shook his blackened soul to the core, and the light from its eyes burned at his flesh. He was dead, yet the thing still stared at him, and he at it. It lunged towards him and began to tear him apart. His screams were the screams of a soul, not of a body; his comrades heard nothing but his dying breath. His screams continued as a fiery rift appeared in the floor and the thing howled and dragged him into the darkness and flames.

The whole of the room exploded with activity; all of the griffons threw down their bows and their crossbows, drawing their swords and other weapons. Dylan spun around and slashed at a griffon who was in the process of pulling a flanged mace from his belt. The strike cut his torso open from hip to armpit; blood coated the floor underneath him, along with his intestines, which fell out of him like a swarm of viscera-drenched snakes. Dylan's second strike lopped off his head, which spun in the air for a moment before it thudded messily to the ground. The whole of the griffons began to yell curses and Tanning hissed, pulling Applejack out into the hallway. Bregan followed after his captain, covering his leader's retreat. Devinn -the griffons' money counter- ran out the door right after Bregan. The rest of the griffons in the room charged the frenzying human. Rurakar missed with his first swing, his hammer passing uselessly over his enemy. Dylan had ducked under the blow, pulling his sword back in a ready position. He used the momentum of his movement to stab the point of his sword through the underside of the griffon's chin. The sword exploded out of the top of his skull, sickly pink with the contents of the griffon's head. With one smooth motion, Dylan slid the sword back out of the griffon's head and chopped off the arm of another that had just began to swing a gladius at him. The arm flopped to the floor, still clutching the sword in its taloned hand. The griffon shrieked in pain, but he ceased his wailing when Dylan slammed his sword's pommel into the griffon's temple with a sound not unlike that of an egg breaking. Both bodies fell to the floor lifelessly, blood point out of both of them. Applejack's bedroom was a mess of broken glass, intestines, blood and dead bodies; not normally how she liked to decorate. 

Applejack kicked and screamed as Tanning dragged her down the stairs by her mane. She tried desperately to hold onto the stairs' handrail, but was pulled along anyways. Tanning literally shoved her down the last few steps, hissing a curse. 

"VHARKAINA (Whore of maggots)! WHERE IN THE NAME OF THE GODS DID THAT THING FUCKING COME FROM!?"  

Tanning heard more screaming coming from Applejack's bedroom, followed by a wet crunch. The other two griffons behind him kept moving as fast as they could down the stairs. A few of the other griffons came out out the room adjacent to Applejack's, forming a line of shields and spears in front of the stairs. There was a shout from one of the griffons at the bottom of the stairs as a black fire poker's spike was swung into his back. The crunch of bone sounded out as the fire poker swung a second time, splattering the griffon's brains all over the wooden floor. Granny Smith stood at the bottom of the stairs, then charged as  she saw Tanning holding her screaming granddaughter. She swung the heavy piece of iron with all of her might at the griffon captain's skull. There was a flash of movement as Tanning parried the blow and thrust the falchion's blade through Granny Smith's ribs. "NOOOO!!!!" Applejack screamed as her grandmother stared down at the blade for a moment, her eyes glazing over. Tanning hissed and pulled the blade from the aging pony's chest, then shoved her roughly to the floor. She lay there for a few moments, her eyes on Applejack as she spoke. "I... It's... Alright, dear... I.... I-" Her eyes rolled back into her head and she let forth a shaking breath before going limp. 

Tanning stepped over the body, pulling Applejack, who was weeping and screaming behind him, still staring at the body of her grandmother. The griffon heard something other than the yells of battle and the clash of weapons coming from the stairs; he heard a low growling. He barely had time to react as Winona leaped into the air and chomped down on his face. He yelled out in pain, slamming his fist into the dog as it chewed and ripped at his head with its meat-tearing teeth. "AAAARGH! GET IT OFF ME! GET IT OFF!" Bregan swung the haft of his morningstar at the dog, which connected with the back of its head sharply. Winona whined and released her jaws, falling backwards to the floor. She lay there motionless as Bregan raised the morningstar above his head. He was about to crush Winona under the weapon's spiked head, but something hard smashed into his jawbone. Applejack's kick knocked the giant griffon sideways into a desk piled high with framed photographs and pictures. They scattered as Bregan yelled out in pain and fell against the desk, clutching at his face. "YOU BITCH!" Tanning roared as he slammed his fist into Applejack over and over again, growling with each strike. She whimpered and cringed, trying desperately to block the blows.

There was a roar from upstairs as a griffon flew limply down the stairs, slamming into Tanning's back like a missile. He staggered forwards and released his grip on Applejack. The griffon had been kicked down the stairs, and his neck was twisted in an unnatural angle, his spine snapped like it was nothing. As Applejack whimpered and screamed, there was a roar from the top of the stairs, followed by the sound of meat being chopped. Another one of the griffins collapsed and rolled down the stairs with a series of thuds. His torso was split from his right shoulder down to his left hip. There was another roar of fury from upstairs, and six words spat like daggers from Dylan's lips. "I'LL KILL YOU ALL, YOU BASTARDS!" There were only three more griffons upstairs fighting Dylan, hiding behind their shields and thrusting their weapons toward Dylan. 

There had been only a dozen of the griffons, but Tanning had sent for more of his warriors. He hadn't known there would have been this much resistance; a dozen of the soldiers under his command were dead, most at the hands of this new monster. He wished he had brought more; their new enemy seemed to kill his warriors as easily as if they were inexperienced recruits. Each of the soldiers under his command was a veteran of the arts of war, and they should have been able to kill the unarmored creature with ease. He had even seen Turvehk put an arrow right through the thing's heart, and yet it still lived. Turvehk had been Tanning's best scout, and he had been known to hit a moving target right between the eyes at three hundred yards. The loss was crippling to say the least, but Tanning felt no emotional injury at his soldier's death; Turvehk and the rest of the griffons under his command all knew what they had put on the line when they joined him. 

Dylan deflected a spear thrust that would have gored him like a wild boar on a spit. He knocked the blow aside with his sword and slammed the shield that he had just picked up into the griffon's own. The spear-griffon flew back a few feet and slammed into the handrail with a crunching noise. He was about to try and stab at Dylan again when the human's blade chopped the top of his skull clean off; it was not that much unlike opening a coconut, except this coconut sprayed blood and cranial fluids. One of the other griffons on the stairs holding a gladius swung the short blade into Dylan's side, cutting a ragged trench of red just above his hip. Dylan screamed and used the momentum of his previous chop to cut a sizable chunk out of the griffon's wooden shield. The griffon ducked and thrust the point of his gladius at the raging Celt, hoping to drive the blade deep into the human's ribs. Dylan saw this coming and sidestepped, avoiding the blow. He twitched as he saw the other griffon swing the blade of his halberd at his head. He brought his shield up, stopping the heavy-handed blow with his own show of brute strength. The halberdier staggered back as Dylan's shield impacted with his weapon; the force that he had put into the blow put him off balance. Dylan saw the gladius-wielding griffon to his right prepare to swing again, but Dylan used the griffon's shield as a target for his bone-shattering kick. The kick was more of a forward stomp than anything else; it crushed the shield entirely under its superhuman force. The shield's holder didn't fare well either; the warrior that had been behind it had flown clear into the other side of the stairs, slamming against the opposite guardrail, crashing through it, and flying into a window. He screamed as he plummeted to the rocky ground outside of the house with a noise line a bushel of twigs snapping. The halberdier's eyes went wide as Dylan ran him through with his blade. Dylan pulled the blade and stabbed twice more in rapid succession before the griffon slid to the floor. He looked down the stairs and barely had time to bring his shield up in front of him as a three-foot javelin sailed through the air and hot the leather-padded shield instead of his vital organs. Bregan reached into the quiver at his back for another, but Applejack slammed into the gargantuan warrior with her shoulder. The eight-foot griffon stumbled into the nearby kitchen wall as the four and a half-foot tall pony rammed into his side. 

"Grab the bitch! Get h-" Devinn screamed before Applejack punched him in the face with her hoof. He howled in pain; the blow had broken his jaw. Tanning yelled and threw Applejack against the floor with a screech. He wrapped his stone talons around her body and threw her over his shoulder. The griffon captain barked an order over Applejack's angry screaming. "WE LEAVE! NOW!" Bregan looked at the human making his way down the stairs. "Leave nothing behind..." Tanning's words had a sinister tone to them, one which Bregan knew all too well. He grabbed a nearby oil lamp, lit it, and threw it to the floor. The lamp shattered in a ball of fire and glass, lighting most of the bottom of the stairs aflame. Devinn backed away, but flinched when he saw Winona pounce towards him with her bloody teeth bared like knives. The small dog tore and bit at the smaller griffon's calves, inciting a  scream of pain from the money counter. The pain was worsened by his broken jaw, which sent agonizing torment shooting through his face like an electric current. He tried to shake the dog loose from his leg, flailing and kicking wildly. He stumbled out the front door and flung the dog against the side of the house. Winona whimpered and fell to the ground, her high-pitched whining louder than the sound of the inferno inside. Dylan ran through the flames like they were nothing, slapping out the fires that had settled on his coat. He watched as the Tanning, Bregan and Devinn took flight with Applejack slung over Tanning's shoulder. Dylan snarled and gritted his teeth, breathing a furious statement between his bared teeth. "Come back here, you fucking coward." Dylan stuck his sword into the ground and looked at the griffons. The smallest one was nearest to him. Dylan whirled, holding the shield in both hands. He spun and released the shield from his hands, watching it hurtle towards his target. It slammed into Devinn like a missile, knocking him from the sky. He plummeted towards the earth, slamming into the branches of an apple tree before falling to the rain-drenched earth.

Lightning continued to flash in the sky, eerily lighting everything in a phantom blue light. Dylan pulled his sword from the ground, picked up Winona, and began to sprint towards the fallen griffon. He swore as he looked at the two griffons still flying, carrying his friend off into the night. He was so angry that all coherent words escaped him.

Dylan reached the site where he had seen the griffon fall and set Winona down. She whined in pain and tried to stand, but collapsed into the mud. Dylan heard the sounds of labored breathing and splashing coming from around the row of trees he was behind. He walked towards it and narrowly dodged the stone that flew past his head. The stone had been propelled by Devinn's sling, which he was trying to load with another stone. Dylan snarled and tackled the griffon, slamming him to the ground mercilessly. He ripped the sling from his hand and pressed the blade of his sword to Devinn's throat. 

"TELL ME WHERE THEY'RE TAKING HER, OR I SWEAR I'LL CUT YOU GODDAMN THROAT OPEN AND WATCH YOU BLEED TO DEATH!!!" 

> Chapter 17- Prisoners
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"The Other Side" Chapter 17- Prisoners

(Guys, resend in your OC's if you haven't already. I only have the Bearers and a few other characters; all of my OC messages got deleted. I made a blog post about it, so if you've sent in an OC, PM it to me again. CURSE YOU, INTERWEBS.)

Twilight stared at the four griffon corpses lying in the mud. She had never seen such violence in her life. Her breathing was rapid and shallow, and she shivered; not because of the cold rain, but because of the brutality that still played fresh in her mind. She hardly noticed as Fluttershy walked out of Dylan's house and stopped beside her. 

"Twilight... Are you alr-" 

She stopped when she saw the four bodies that Twilight had been staring at. She looked like she was about to faint. Fluttershy swallowed and looked at her friend, carefully choosing her next words. 

"What... What happened?" 

Twilight stared at the carnage that Dylan had left in his wake, then turned to Fluttershy as she finally noticed her. 

"Fluttershy? What are you doing here?" 

The shy mare's butter colored face flushed, its hue turning a deep rose. 

"W-well, you see... I... I was visiting Dylan..." She went pale and began to shake when she saw the bodies lying in the mud.

Twilight was curious as to why Fluttershy had come all the way to Ponyville in the middle of the night; her house was very far from the town and Fluttershy was generally too timid to visit new friends. 

"What? Why?" 

Fluttershy blushed even deeper, shying away from Twilight and brushing the ground with a hoof. 

"Uh... Um... I... Oh... I WAS LONELY, OKAY!" 

Twilight stepped back slightly at her friend's outburst. 

"Oh... Well... Everypony gets lonely sometimes... OH, BUCK! We need to get to Applejack's! She's in grave danger! If Dylan hadn't killed these griffons, I would be dead! They're at Sweet Apple Acres right now, and they have Applejack!" 

Fluttershy gasped, but then took off as fast as she could  in the direction of the apple farm. Twilight followed after Fluttershy, completely terrified of what might be happening at the farm.

The two mares stared in horror at the enormous cloud of black smoke rising from the direction of Sweet Apple Acres. The sky was clearing, but it remained dark and ominous. The smoke rose in front of the moon, making the strange light pouring from it dim and muted, as if it was a shadow of its former self. The source of the smoke became shockingly clear as they neared the farm; the entire farmhouse was ablaze. Flames rose out of every window, and smoke rolled off of the house in a billowing charcoal-black pillar. The walls of the house were beginning to buckle inwards, and the roof sagged ominously. 
Two figures stood some fifty feet from the house. One was large and holding the other figure tightly, the other was small and seemed to be burying its face into the larger one's shoulder. As they neared, it was obvious that the two figures were Big Macintosh and Apple Bloom. Apple Bloom was bawling her eyes out, trying to stutter words. 

"G-G-Granny! S-She w-was in th' h-house! I d-didn't see her g-get out! Why's this happenin', Mac? Why is this happening?!" 

Big Mac simply hugged his sister tight and stroked her mane. 

"I don't know, sis... I don't know... It's gonna be alright, don't you worry."

Fluttershy and Twilight arrived just as Apple Bloom began crying into Big Macintosh's shoulder again. 

"What happened?!" Twilight asked frantically, watching as the farmhouse burned down in the distance. There was a resounding crack as one of the main support beams of the house broke, sending a storm of sparks and smoke gushing out the side of the burning building. Big Macintosh turned to the sound of Twilight's panic-stricken voice. His eyes were brimming with tears, but he had the resolve not to let them spill down his cheeks. 

"They... they took Applejack... They took mah' sis..." 

It was then that Twilight saw the pair of arrows sticking out of Big Mac's flesh. 

"OH, BUCK!"

Big Macintosh hugged Apple Bloom closer, who was now sobbing mournfully; her young mind was completely innocent and had never experienced this kind of mental anguish. She stared at the two newcomers with a look of emptiness and loss that shook both Twilight and  Fluttershy to the bone. 

"Ah... Ah...-" 

Apple Bloom's attempt at speech only ended in more tears. Big Macintosh looked down at his sister and pulled her closer into his embrace. 

"S'okay, sis... S'okay." 

Big Macintosh wept; it was a strange sight too see the massive and withdrawn work stallion crying like a young colt. At that moment, a bloodcurdling scream rent the air like a knife. All four of the ponies' ears twitched, their heads turning towards the sound in surprise. 

"Wh-what was that?!" Fluttershy blurted, her gentle eyes filling with fear. 

***

"I'm n-not telling y-you s-shit!" Devinn yelled at the human pinning him to the dirt with the force of a full-grown bear. He further emphasized his defiance by spitting in his captor's face. The scrawny griffon tried his best to look tough under the furious gaze of Dylan's cold blue eyes. They might has well have been blood red; the bloodlust pouring from the two portals to the human's soul was so thick it could be cut with a knife. 

Dylan's mouth twisted into a sadistic grin, his teeth bared like those of a predator. A low, whispering growl was his response. "Wrong answer." 

Before the griffon could finish looking terrified, Dylan grasped one of Devinn's taloned fingers in his hand and snapped it like a toothpick. Devinn's scream of agony seemed to fill the air itself with an aura of pain. 

"N-ngh... You... B-bastar-" 

Dylan interrupted him. 

"Yeah. I am a bastard." 

Another finger was nearly broken into two by Dylan. Devinn screeched again. 

"Tanning, HELP ME!" 

Dylan pulled the griffon's face up so he could look into his eyes. Devinn tried to look away, but Dylan grabbed his head and twisted it back. 

"LOOK AT ME." 

Devinn whimpered and moved his eyes away from the snarling visage of the human. Dylan's fist slammed into the griffon's face. 

"LOOK. AT. ME!" 

Devinn did; he looked right into Dylan's eyes. It was if he was looking at his own funeral pyre; Dylan's eyes were completely black, and fire seemed to rage inside the two void-colored orbs. He thought he saw himself in them, and Devinn's eyes opened wider than they should have ever been able to. Staring back at him, was himself. Devinn's reflection was burning, screaming, his face a twisted and mangled mess, and his feathers soaked in his own blood, his own dead eyes looking right at him. He could hear his own screaming in his head, shaking his skull like a drum. His fear bubbled up inside his soul like a poison, spreading through his mind and body as well. He was staring at hell itself. 

His beak fell wide open to let forth another scream, this one louder than Devinn had ever screamed before in his life. He twitched and jerked on the ground, wailing and shrieking as he tried to pull himself away from the horror that lurked inside Dylan's burning eyes. They continued to stare at him; Devinn could not move an inch. Devinn screamed again, but was lifted into the air. Dylan stood and held him up by the front of his cloak. 

"TELL... ME...EVERYTHING!" 

Dylan's face elongated, new fangs and teeth sprouting from his jaws like knives. Devinn wailed again, looking right at the monster in front of him. He whimpered, curled in upon himself, and wept. Dylan heard the sound of dribbling and water splashing, along with a ghastly and putrid stench. He knew the griffon had just soiled himself. Dylan laughed quietly, watching as the griffon sobbed and writhed in his grip. He grew tired of this quickly, pulling Devinn to within inches of his face. His tongue -long and black now, and hot like molten steel- darted from between hiss teeth and licked his lips. 

"You're running out of time. TELL ME." 

Devinn cried his eyes out, stuttering as he tried to speak. "H-h-h-he's t-t-t-taking h-her to the d-d-diamond d-dogs! He t-t-thinks s-she knows s-something! H-h-his sister's g-g-gone m-missing!" 

Dylan growled at the griffon, who was a full foot shorter than him, and considerably more scrawny. 

"WHO'S. HIS. SISTER?!" 

The money counter choked on his next single word, making a high-pitched squealing sound as he spoke. "G-Gilda!" Dylan stared at the griffon with an unchanged expression for a moment, then his face changed completely; his expression became a mask of horror and guilt. Dylan trembled as every hair on his body stood up on end. 

/Oh... Oh God ... I... No... NO! 

Dylan not only thought the last word, but screamed it, pouring forth his guilt and rage towards the heavens. The sky still rained, and droplets of rainwater fell against his face as he roared at the sky. 

"NOOOOOOOO!"

At that moment Twilight arrived, followed by Apple Bloom. Fluttershy and Big Mac were the last to come upon the scene; The pegasus was treating Big Macintosh's wounds to the best of her ability. The look on Twilight's face was one of shock; Dylan looked like he was about to break down into tears, which was something she had never seen the human do before. Dylan's head slowly turned to look at Twilight, fixing his now-normal eyes on the unicorn. "It's all my fault..." Dylan's voice sounded as if he was drowning in guilt. 

In his mind, he counted all the things he had caused by killing Gilda: Twilight was almost killed along with Big Macintosh, Granny Smith was Slaughtered, Apple Bloom almost raped and was surely scarred for life, the farmhouse was burning down and Applejack was just abducted. 

It was all because of him, he thought. 

I did this... Me... There's no telling what he must be doing to Applejack... And what he'll do when he finds out that his sister is dead... He killed someone, burned down a house, and abducted somebody... And all before he even knows his sister is dead... 

Twilight spoke up, 

"What's your fault?" 

Dylan roused himself from his contemplation and breathed heavily. 

"That." 

He pointed a finger towards the burning house and then lowered his head. Twilight shook her head vigorously. 

"It's not your fault, you're just feeling guilty... Anypony would logically feel this way in this kind of situ-" 

Dylan raised a hand to silence her, his heart growing heavy in his chest as he looked into her eyes. It was his turn to shake his head. 

"No. It is my fault. I can't tell you why... Just that... It's because of me." 

Fluttershy spoke up now, looking at Dylan with concern and sadness in her gaze. 

"Dylan, what did you do?" 

Dylan couldn't look at his love, so he simply muttered at the ground. 

"Something you can't just wash away..." 

Dylan had put Devinn down and turned away from him. The griffon took this opportunity to leap into the air and start to fly away. Dylan noticed this immediately. He spun around to face him, growling with feral menace at the fleeing griffon. He bent his knees and hunched, then launched himself into the air. He tackled Devinn mid-flight, slamming him down to the ground with a snarl of anger. The griffon grunted when he struck the earth, then he exhaled sharply when the more than two-hundred pound human landed on his chest. Dylan flipped the griffon over onto his front. He proceeded to take both of the griffon's wings in his hands and snap their bones mercilessly. Devinn screamed whilst everyone else except Big Macintosh gasped; he simply nodded, looking at the scene with a dark approval in his eyes. Dylan released Devinn's ruined wings and raised a foot. He brought it down on the back of the prone griffon's knee with a stomach-lurching cracking noise. Devinn screamed again, his screeching agonizingly painful to all who heard it. Dylan growled and slammed his other foot on Devinn's opposite knee, shattering it as well. He unceremoniously picked up the griffon and punched him in the face. The sick sound of his broken jaw being slammed brutally by the human's clenched fist was the last thing he heard before he fell unconscious. Dylan hefted the griffon's broken body over his shoulder and turned to the ponies. The tone of his voice was one of determination and dark ruthlessness. 

"We're getting Applejack back. They'll be here again soon... And they'll be coming for me." 

***

The pony in Tanning's arms had long since been knocked unconscious when he and Bregan arrived back at the diamond dog fortress. The two of them landed in front of the main gate just as a group of guards came out to meet them. Rex was among them, and he did not look happy to see the griffons returning. There was fear in his expression, but that was quickly replaced with confusion. 

"What happened? Where is every-" 

Bregan answered him as he took Applejack from his captain's arms. "Dead. All of them." 

The diamond dog shot him an incredulous look, staring in awestruck confusion with his mouth wide open. "Dead?! How the fuck are they all dead?!" 

Tanning hissed, simply shouldering past the large diamond dog impatiently. Tanning's anger seemed to hang over his face like a veil, making the already intimidating griffon seem even more menacing than he normally appeared. 

"Sssome fucking thing killed them... Sssome of my bessst warriorsss... CUT DOWN LIKE THEY WERE NOTHING!" 

Rex growled slightly as Tanning pushed past, but he whimpered when he saw the look that the griffon shot him. 

"What thing?" 

Bregan walked up beside Rex, who was now walking after Tanning. The giant warrior spoke in a sort of low, gravelly tone, his beak twitching slightly with each word. "Walked on two legs... Had two arms, like a griffon or diamond dog... Head was round... Mostly hairless... About six and a half feet tall... Muscular... Leaped thirty feet through the air... Took an arrow to the heart and kept coming... Butchered at least a dozen of us... Kicked one of us through a fucking wall..." 

Rex's eyes widened slightly, but he tried to hide it. 

"That's it? We've fought worse." 

Tanning hissed and kept on walking.

The three of them arrived at the fortress' holding cells, accompanied by a few diamond dog guards. The cells were filthy and the whole of this part of the fortress smelled like rancid piss and shit. Withered and malnourished forms sat behind the thick iron bars of the cells, sleeping on nothing but the rough stone floor with a single ragged blanket and a straw-filled burlap sack for a pillow. They sat up and watched as the griffons and diamond dogs walked past the cells, heading straight for the interrogation chamber. 

Along with ponies, mules and even a diamond dog or two, there was one prisoner that stood out: The same giant troll that had been in Rover's meeting room. His cell was completely reinforced; there were no bars for walls, only a thick stone wall and a heavy iron door. Through the doors small, barred window, it could be seen that the troll was chained to the wall by his wrists and ankles. The chains' links were at least an inch thick, and with good reason; Trolls were very strong. Had he been held in one of the other cells, he could have easily broken the bars out of the wall. The troll just silently watched Tanning, Bregan and Rex as they proceeded past his cell and into a windowless room.

The room's floor was stained red from the many 'interrogations' that had taken place here. There was almost no furniture in the room except for a crude wooden chair and a heavy iron box. The room was lit by  dim lantern light, which was barely enough to completely see by; The griffons' and diamond dogs' night vision more than made up for this, however. 

"Put her on the chair." Tanning growled, wringing his hands and smiling as Applejack was placed roughly in the chair. 

A pair of the diamond dog guards opened the iron box and withdrew a coil of rope. They proceeded to tie the unconscious farm pony to the chair, then backed away slowly to make room. 

"I'll summon the interrogator." 

Tanning replied to Rex's previous statement with cruelty and anger in his voice. "That won't be necessssssary Taskmaster... I can handle this myssself. Now if you'll excuse ussss..." 

Rex looked at Tanning with an expression of wary disdain. "As you wish... Captain..." The large Rottweiler bowed somewhat mockingly and left the room with the other diamond dogs. After Rex was gone, Tanning hissed and clenched his claws into fists. 

"I ssshould have drowned that mongrel cur when I had the chance! Did you sssee what he jussst fucking- Never mind... We've got work to do." Bregan nodded and walked over to the tied up pony. The sound of slapping flesh echoed through the room as Bregan backhanded Applejack across her face. Applejack awoke with a start, gasping and trying to stop the pain in her head. She growled when she saw Tanning and immediately tried to lunge toward him. She couldn't move; she was tied to the chair, and the chair was further still bolted to the floor. "Good. You're awake." Applejack bared her teeth and spat at the griffon. "Buck you, ya' sunnavabitch!" Tanning moved out of the way of the liquid projectile and frowned. "I wouldn't do that again." Applejack scoffed at Tanning's words. "Why, 'm I s'posed t' be scared a' you?" Tanning's grin of malice seemed to communicate his answer perfectly, but he spoke nonetheless. "Yesss." Applejack didn't have time to respond as Tanning reached down to a holster at his belt, pulled out his whip, flicked his wrist back above his head and then twitched it forwards. The whip lashed mercilessly against the side of Applejack's face with a sound like the crack of thunder. To her credit, she didn't scream; she simply grunted and gritted her teeth. There was now a large crimson gash along the side of Applejack's cheek which began to pour forth its red liquid down the side of her face. "Hng... Was... That... Th' best ya' can do?" Applejack chuckled mockingly. Tanning laughed back at her. "Not even close. Where is my sssissster?" Applejack shot the griffon and angry look. "Do you buckin' think Ah know where your cudstain of a sister is?! Ya' buckin' idjit'... Ah don't even know her name, ya' damn fool." Tanning's eyes smiled while his beak opened into an angry snarl. 

"I think you do, my young pony friend. I think you do." 

"Izzat' so? Ya' think Ah know some flyin' whore, do ya'?" 

"What did you jussst call her?" 

"A whore. Are ya' deaf and stupid?" 

Tanning's fist slammed into Applejack's jaw with a sickening cracking noise. 

"Oh, I am going to enjoy this. You can count on that, my dear." 

Applejack spat a glob of bloody saliva right at Tanning's face. The red liquid splattered against the griffon's cheek."Go buck yourself." Tanning wiped the spit off of his face and looked at the hand he had just used to clean himself; it was a real hand, unlike his giant stone claw, which tensed eagerly. He clenched his fleshy hand into a fist and slammed it into Applejack's gut. She wheezed as all the air left her lungs. 

"Hm... I have pony ssssluts like you to do that for me. I think I can manage. Now... Where'sss my ssssissster?" 

Applejack coughed and turned her head down towards the floor; she still stated at Tanning from under her brows. 

"Ungh... Ya' punch pretty soft, ya' know that? Well... Fer' a weak little thing like ya'self, Ah can't say I expected much." 

Tanning smirked, then faster than even Bregan had expected, Tanning's expression turned to one of rage. He hissed and practically put his face centimeters from Applejack's own green eyes. He whispered menacingly to her, his eyes boring into her flesh like knives. 

"We'll ssssee who isss weak sssoon enough, bitch... Now answer my question. Where... Is... My... SSSSSISSSSTER?!" Tanning roared the last word into Applejack's face so loudly that her ears started to bleed. She winced but still defiantly kept her stern face. She hadn't shed a single tear, which was starting to wear down on Tanning's nerves; she was tougher than he thought, but not tough enough. 

"Ah don't even know yer' sister's name,' shit-fer'-brains. How th' buck'm Ah s'posed to tell ya where she is? You're definitely some kinda genius, mister." 

Tanning scowled and narrowed his eyes, become increasingly annoyed with the stubborn pony. "I'll tell you her name, you filthy dirtssscratcher. Her name isss Gilda. " 

Applejack's eyes shot wide open; the dreadful realization of who the griffon really was had just been revealed to her. She was terrified not for herself, but her family, and most of all, Dylan. He had been the one to stand up to Gilda, and she hadn't been in the best shape when Applejack saw her leave. This griffon would wan't him.

To Tanning, Applejack's fear was as clear as cool spring water glistening in the sun. He was certain she was hiding something just by the way she looked at him. 

"Ah. Know her now?" Applejack swallowed, sucking back a large amount of the blood pouring into her mouth. She chewed at her lip and tried to look at the floor, but Tanning gripped her face in his hand and turned it to look at his own. "You do. Tell me where ssshe isss... Or I will make sssure that you wish you were dead. I assure you that I keep my word." 

Tanning was a cruel and twisted sadist at heart, but when he said something, he meant it. He was not a liar, but he was a monster nonetheless. 

"Ah... Ah don't know." 

Tanning blinked and Applejack watched as the griffon's face writhed into a mask of dark anger.

"YOU LIE! TELL ME WHERE YOU HAVE GILDA OR I WILL MAKE YOUR LIFE A LIVING HELL!!! DO YOU UNDERSSSTAND ME, WHORE?!" 

Saliva sprayed across Applejack's face, caused by the griffon captain's wild barrage of furious words. The griffon's feathers raised, the plumes atop his head stiffening to stand straight upwards; it was amongst one of the most intimidating gestures in griffon culture. 

Applejack held her ground, refusing to tell Tanning anything about Dylan and what he had done for her; she loved him too much to betray him, even if she was the Element of Honesty and it could cost her the very thing he had saved... Her life. Gilda would have surely killed Applejack that night; Gilda had come to collect a protection payment that Applejack couldn't pay. Dylan had saved her life... and given her something more... something she had never experienced before...

She shook herself from her thoughts and returned her focus to the massive cutthroat standing in front of her. She gritted her teeth, narrowed her eyes and growled her response. 

"NO." 

The next thing Applejack saw was Tanning's fist slamming into her face even harder than the last time; She fell unconscious instantly.

Tanning roared in anger, holding his head in his hands and screaming at the top of his lungs. Bregan watched his commander with a familiar understanding, then walked a few steps closer. 

"Should I wake her up, captain?" 

Tanning stopped his bellowing to look at his only friend. He knew that Bregan would be by his side no matter what they went through. He nodded and shot him an evil smile. "Yesss. After you've done that... Have the dogsss sssend their 'interrogator' over. If he doesssn't work out asss planned... I have... /other ideas/..." 

Bregan nodded and began fetching a bag of smelling salts from the iron box. Tanning looked back at his prisoner and snarled.

"We'll make this bitch sssscream, one way or another!" 
> Chapter 18- Rising Storm
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"The Other Side" Chapter 18- Rising Storm 

(NOTE)
(Oh... Guh... Uhm... Yeah. Torture chapter. By the way... RESEND YOUR DAMN OCs! Unless I've told you or you've already resent them, please PM me them again. All of my old messages got deleted. If you don't resubmit them, they won't be in the story. I'm sorry, but my memory is shit.)

Dylan hardly noticed the looks that Twilight and Fluttershy were giving him; he was so focused on preparing for the griffons' return that the whole of his concentration was devoted to walking to the town. 

"Dylan! You're hurt!" 

Fluttershy's voice snapped him out of his trance, causing him to turn and look at the butter-colored pony who he felt nothing but love for. His face had been hard and angry, but his expression seemed to soften when he saw the affectionate concern in the eyes of his new -and second- love. He seemed to project an aura of unworried confidence as he looked at her.

"Ehhh... Tis but a flesh wound." 

It wasn't; the arrow jutting from between his ribs dead-center in his chest clearly meant he was dead... yet he wasn't. The long cut in his side also should have been enough to kill him, yet both wounds seemed to have little effect on him. 

The Celtic-descended human looked down at the arrow skewering through his breast with complete astonishment. In his mind, Dylan was hysterical; he should be dead right now. He remembered he had almost died at least four times now since he had arrived, and in all of them, he miraculously survived. 

As he thought about his current state of unnatural resilience, Fluttershy slowly walked up to him and began speaking again. "Uhm... Oh... Oh my... That looks-" Dylan reached down with the hand that wasn't holding the unconscious body of Devinn and grabbed the shaft of the arrow. 

"Let's see if this works..." 

Fluttershy gasped and tried to stop Dylan, but she was too late. "Dylan, n-" The sound of flesh ripping and metal grinding against bone could be clearly heard by all five of them. Twilight held a hoof up to her mouth and began to gag, trying to hold back her vomit. Apple Bloom squealed and tried to look away. Big Macintosh covered his sister's eyes and looked quite shocked, his jaw hanging open in stunned surprise. Fluttershy gasped, her pupils narrowing in fear as she watched the gruesome sight before her. Dylan pulled the arrow sharply, accidentally getting the barbs stuck on one of his ribs. He gritted his teeth and cursed under his breath. "Motherfucker." He grunted in pain, moving the arrow around to unhook it from the bone. It came loose and ripped the rest of its way back out of his chest with a vile tearing noise. "GAAAAH! Hell's asshole, that fffff- AAARGH!" Dylan looked at the arrow in his hands; what looked like shards of bone and chunks of flesh clung to it, sticky with his blood. A few shreds of flesh in particular caught his attention.

"Mother of God..." 

Dylan could tell what the veiny pieces of red tissue that hung to the arrow were. He stared at them in frozen terror, letting forth a shuddering breath as he stared at what was stuck on the wickedly-barbed arrowhead; pieces of his heart.

Dylan's hairs stood on end as he realized it fully now; he should be dead. He should be spewing blood out of the hole in his chest and be dead in seconds. He looked down at the hole that the projectile had put in him, staring in disbelief as only a few drops of red streamed down his coat. He felt something strange and proceeded to feel at the hole. It was no longer there. His wound had sealed, the flesh knitting itself back together like nothing had happened. Nothing remained of the wound.

"Dylan! Oh, mercy! D-don't move!"

Fluttershy moved closer to Dylan, her eyes still full of uncomprehending horror. She knew that the human she loved should be dead; she saw where the arrow had been. She knew where his heart and most of his organs were, thanks to Twilight, herself and the town doctor examining him while he was unconscious. The wound was mortal, she knew that much. She tried desperately to help her very close friend.

With a quick movement that Fluttershy barely even noticed, he wiped the arrowhead off against the inside of his coat, hiding the gruesome evidence that had clung to it just moments before. He pulled his coat closed, moving it over the lack of damage to his chest. The slash in his gut had sealed itself as well, and he attempted to hide the repaired flesh as well.

"I'm okay, Fluttershy. I'm okay."

"N-no you're not! You... You shouldn't be! You can't be!" 

"I am, don't worry. Let's get back to town."

"No, I need to check you out-"

"Later."

With this, Dylan shot her a dirty look -bedroom dirty, that is- and winked.  Dylan was trying his best to distract the caring pegasus; he knew that if she saw that he was healed again, she would lose control of herself. He wasn't about to give her any more mental trauma than he'd already caused. Fluttershy blushed and looked taken aback. She had obviously not been expecting her human companion to be making flirtatious jokes right now.

Twilight's vomiting could be clearly heard in the background. It sounded as is the librarian were trying to regurgitate her entire digestive system. 

"I'll be alright, trust me. Go check on Mac and Apple Bloom, and maybe Twilight; she looks a little greener than her usual lavender-colored self." 

Fluttershy looked like she was about to protest, but she closed her mouth and nodded at him. She trotted over to her other three friends and began looking them over. Twilight had just ceased vomiting when Fluttershy arrived. 

Dylan once again asked himself the same question:

What the fuck am I?

***

The diamond dog interrogator had been working his craft for hours on the work pony's. He had tried all methods of torture that he knew, from the hot iron poker to other more... insidious tools of the trade.

Applejack bore dozens of ragged, bleeding cuts all along her body, along with burns, bruises and chafe-marks. She looked like a complete mess; her face was stained with tears of pain, her head hung low in shame and the look in her eyes was one of agony and exhaustion. Her breathing was low and rasping. Applejack stopped her wheezing breaths from time to time to cough up blood onto the chamber's already bloody stone floor.

So far, she had revealed nothing. The farm pony's resolve was far greater than Tanning or the diamond dogs had expected. It frustrated the griffon warlord beyond words. As a matter of fact, it sent him into a frothing rage. 

Tanning's anger had already caused him to inflict a considerable amount of damage on his prisoner. He had struck her multiple times out of fury, but the equine refused to give up. This further infuriated him until he realized exactly what it was he needed to break her.  He wanted to watch her suffer first, before he broke her.

Tanning turned to the torturer with a monstrous look of cruelty present on his face. He licked his beak as he hissed, malevolence dripping from each word.

"Tell your dogsss to... have sssome fun... I'm sssure our... friend will appreciate the affection." 

The torturer looked confused for a few seconds, then a knowing grin spread across his long, canine face. He waved his assistants forward, then told them to gather some of the guards. 

After a group of around a dozen of the dogs assembled, the torturer grinned as he explained what it was exactly that they were supposed to do. Within moments, the torturer's grin had spread infectiously to the other diamond dogs. He waved the first one forward, who rubbed his paws together and stepped forward.

Applejack looked up wearily with heavy-lidded green eyes. She was in so much pain that she could barely move, and even raising her head caused fresh suffering to well up and blot out her thoughts with its stinging, burning, aching feelings. She stared up with exhausted eyes at the diamond dog before her. She was about to spit an insult at him, but what happened next stopped her before she could speak. The diamond dog wedged her legs apart with his knees and grabbed her shoulders. Applejack's eyes suddenly looked wide awake as the diamond dog slammed his rock-hard testament of masculinity deep inside her. She gasped in surprise as the diamond dog thrust into her over and over again, not caring how rough he was with the pony in the slightest. He bayed and howled as he took her forcefully. Over and over again he bucked his hips against hers, ramming deep into her insides as he barked rabidly. 

After he was finished, he pulled himself out of her with a sigh, readjusted himself, and began to walk away. Before he could, Applejack snarled an insult at the dog. 

"Ah bet ya' feel real tough, takin' me when ah'm all tied up, dont'cha? Y'all are nothin' but a bunch a' flea-bitten, crotch-lickin', ass-sniffin' cowards. " 

The dog growled as he walked away, patting one of his comrades on the shoulder. The comrade in question rolled his shoulders and walked toward his method of entertainment for the next few minutes. 

Blood wasn't the only thing pooling on the floor now. The whole of the group had already had their way with Applejack, and yet they were still looking at the farmpony with lustful hunger in their eyes. Tanning stepped forward and placed a hand on Applejack's shoulder from behind. Her breathing was even more ragged than before. She hung low, the energy drained from her body completely. 

"Ready to talk yet, are we?" 

Tanning's voice seemed to drip with cruelty and sadistic pleasure. He was certain that he had finally broken her, and his face showed this. 

When she didn't respond, he hissed and advanced towards her. He grabbed her face in his hands and stared deep into her eyes, glaring knives at her in frustration.

"SSSSPEAK OR YOU WILL REGRET IT!"

Applejack simply looked at Tanning with an unimpressed look on her face. Outside she looked determined, unwavering and full of courage. On the inside she was screaming in pain, begging for it all to stop. She opened her lips; she would tell him. She began to speak, then something seemed to explode her chest.

You were going to tell him... You selfish little coward... Do you have any strength left to defend your friends? Would you tell this... this... scum what happened? Would you throw Dylan  to the dogs!? You bucking piece of shit. You worthless bitch... Fight. FIGHT FOR HIM! HE FOUGHT FOR YOU!

Applejack was stunned. The tirade of words had come from herself; she knew they had. Some part of her mind completely rejected the possibility of surrendering; to do so would make everything she had done mean nothing. If she gave up now, Tanning would hunt down Dylan. She knew that he Tanning already knew what a threat he was, and planned to eliminate him. But if he found out that he knew where his sister was, there would be no stopping him. 

"What wasss that? What did you sssay?"

Applejack realized that she had been about to speak. She licked her parched and cracked lips, breathed in and spoke. 

"Ah'll talk..."

Tanning's grin was one of victory. He was so full of satisfaction that he failed to notice the hint of smugness in Applejack's ragged voice.

"Wh- when yer' dead."

Tanning's eyes flashed again, this time with a black rage that seemed to well up from deep inside him. An unnatural black glow seemed to emanate from his eyes and his stone arm. 

"THAT'SSS THE LASSST MISTAKE YOU'LL EVER MAKE, WRETCH." 

***

Lyra was sitting under one of the umbrellas of Ponyville's cafe. It had been a normal day for her, except for one thing; finding four dead griffons lying in the middle of the street. She inspected the scene and found something quite unusual: There appeared to be human shoeprints. 

Lyra had went completely hysterical. She had completely missed the news of Dylan's arrival in town; she had just returned from a trip to Canterlot. Seeing proof of human existence pushed her into a frenzy. Lyra searched up and down Ponyville, but couldn't find the human. She realized too late that the human had run in the direction of Sweet Apple Acres. She had ducked under one of the umbrellas of the cafe to hide from the rain. Just then she noticed a massive pillar of smoke rising from the direction of the apple farm. 

"Sweet Celes-"

She was cut short by something even more shocking. In the distance Lyra spotted a number of shapes coming from the farm. Five figures walked up the road into town, the black cloud smearing the starry night sky behind them. One of the figures carried an unmoving body over its shoulder. The most amazing thing about the figure's shoulders was that they had arms attached to them instead of legs; the figure was human. Lyra was too dumbfounded to move a muscle.

The black-cloaked human with red hair walked right past Lyra. In one hand he was clutching a bloodied sword as the other held onto the griffon he was carrying. He gave a quick glance at Lyra with his deep blue eyes and then moved on. He seemed to be seething with anger so palpable that Lyra began to tremble. 

"Y-y-y-you're a h-h-human!"

Dylan stopped and turned at his waist to look back at the unicorn.

"I am. But right now I-"

"Ohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh! You're totally a human! Oh WOW! Your hands are so cool! And what's that on your face? Is that a beard? Oh! Oh! Oh! Wow! This is so cool! How are you-"

Dylan gave Lyra an impatient look and frowned as he interrupted her. 

"I don't have time for this."

He continued walking, his face a stern expression. He grunted as he adjusted the limp form on his shoulders, letting out a long and heavy breath. Lyra looked shocked for a moment, then began following the human and the four ponies with a confused look on her face. 

"What's going on?" 

She was answered by Twilight Sparkle, who was currently looking very worried and distressed. "Griffons abducted Applejack and burned down the farm... He thinks he can get this griffon to lead us to where they're hiding." 

Lyra's jaw dropped, and her eyes seemed to bulge from her head. "Wh-why?!" 

Twilight shook her head. "They... I think one of them was looking for someone... He... He must have thought Applejack knew where they were. Big Mac's pretty torn up." 

Lyra looked at Big Macintosh, who was currently being cared for tenderly by an anxious and scared-looking Fluttershy. Two arrows stuck out from the red farmer's hide, one in his back and one in his shoulder.It looked like everybody was shocked out of their minds except Big Mac and Dylan. The two shared a grim determination, stone-faced and cold-eyed. They shrugged off any pain and worry that they normally would have had. Applejack was both the Dylan's and Big Mac's focus at the moment, and powerfully so; they both seemed to be coiled like springs, building up tension to be released in a uncontrollable explosion of violence.

The group walked into Ponyville's veterinary clinic. Dylan stepped up to the front desk and received some stunned looks from the receptionist.The hospital would have been preferred, but it was too far away and it wasn't certain if they would have been able to get to it in time. 

"Where's the doctor?" Dylan asked with an urgent and frustrated tone to his voice. 

The mare on duty looked as if her jaw was going to hit the counter. The human had just walked through the front door  carrying a body and asked where the doctor was. She blinked and tried to speak, but could only stutter. 

"Y-y-yr t-th h-h-h-hu-" 

Dylan growled in frustration and leaned over the counter to stare right into the receptionist's face. 

"The doctor. Get... Him... NOW." 

Fear and amazement was his only answer. He slammed his fist on the counter, sword still in hand. "We don't have time! Get the fucking doctor or my friend is going to die! If he dies because of you..." Dylan clenched his fingers into a white-knuckle grip around the sword's hilt. He bared his teeth at the completely terrified mare standing behind the clinic's reception desk. She practically fell out of her chair and scrambled to a nearby door before opening it and slamming it behind her. Muffled and frantic voices could be heard coming from behind the door, followed by a crash. It sounded like a whole tray of medical tools had just been knocked to the floor with a thunderous clatter. A string of words from a male voice could be heard before the door opened again.

The veterinarian barely had time to open his mouth before Dylan pushed past him into the room. The stallion looked taken aback and annoyed. "Well, excuse me! What do you think-" Dylan growled and bared his teeth as he gazed bloody murder at the doctor. "- you're... doing?" The last word was a fearful squeak, barely audible. Dylan glared at him for another second before walking over to an operating table and unceremoniously placing Devinn's unconscious and beaten body onto it. 

"What needs to be done." Dylan's voice was completely serious, with not the slightest trace of doubt. The veterinarian's assistant trembled slightly in the back of the room, trying to hide behind a cart laden with medical trays. One of the trays had been knocked off the cart; scalpels, needles, forceps and other medical tools were scattered haphazardly across the floor. The veterinarian gingerly stepped around them, then glared at his receptionist, urging her to clean them up. He looked at the body on the table in shock; the griffon had multiple broken ribs, a shattered jaw, two broken knees and ruined wings. It was obvious that he would probably never fly again. 

"Is... Is this your friend?" 

Dylan gave a dark chuckle and shook his head, looking down at the unconscious form with a mixture of disgust and hatred. 
"No. He's just some lowlife piece of shit." Dylan pointed at the red stallion being carried by Fluttershy. "This is my friend. Fix him up. And this fucking scumbag... just keep him strapped down... and make sure he's at least slightly alive. I'll pay you, but now, I have to go." He walked up to Big Mac, patted him on his good shoulder and gave him a grim look, one that needed no words to accompany it. The look's meaning was clear: We'll make them pay. Big Mac nodded and let the doctor help him to another operating table while the assistant strapped the unconscious griffon onto his own.

Dylan walked back out the door, passing by everyone else before exiting the clinic. "Come on. Twilight, follow me. Fluttershy, Apple Bloom, I need you two here with Mac." 

The new pony spoke up. "What about me?" 

Dylan cast her a measuring glance, working his jaw slowly. After a few moments, he nodded. "You can come too... but I don't exactly need your help at the moment." Lyra smiled excitedly and nodded. She was going to spend time with a human. It was amazing that she was composed at all. If the situation were any different , she would probably be jumping around and screaming her head off in joy. It was Dylan's air of urgency and determination that helped her keep her emotions in check.

The three of them walked through the muddy streets, passing by only a few townsfolk that were out of their homes and places of business. It was night after all. They were lucky that the veterinary clinic wasn't closed; it was just about to when they arrived. Everybody they passed seemed to regard Dylan with a mixture of fear and awe; The red-spattered blade in his hand probably had something to do with it. Twilight was the first to speak.

"Where are we going?"

The sentence was spoken in a tone of confusion. The lavender-coated unicorn frowned, uncomprehending curiosity written all over her face, as obvious as if it had been written in ink. 

"There." 

Dylan's calloused and scarred hand pointed upwards and forwards, his index finger extended; He was pointing at the Town Hall. Understanding dawned on Twilight's face, but Lyra still had no idea why they were headed to the mayor's place of office. 

"What're we going to do there?" Lyra asked, furrowing her brow in contemplation.

"Talk to the mayor." Dylan said as he continued walking. He carried himself like he was ready for a fight; he generally was. There was blue flash of light, followed by a loud crack of thunder overhead. Dylan glanced up at the storm clouds brewing in the skies above, then looked back down. He saw something move in the dark, which came flying through the air and landed several feet in front of him. Dylan twitched, his sword rising a few inches before he stopped. 

His stance changed from an aggressive one to one of relief in a split second. He sighed as he saw that it was Rainbow Dash, and relaxed immediately. Her hair was drenched and hung from her face in heavy, wet strands. She looked like she had just flown through the heart of the storm. 

"Dylan, I need to tell you something..." Her face had a slight reddish tinge to it, barely noticeable in the dark. She flinched when she saw Twilight and Lyra standing behind him. "W- Hey, what're you guys doing out here?" Rainbow Dash said, looking at the two ponies. 

"We're following Dylan. He wants to talk to the mayor." Twilight responded as calmly as she could, despite current events.

"Well, this weather wasn't scheduled by Cloudsdale, so I don't know what the hay is causing it. Wait... Why do you want to talk to the mayor?" 

Dylan swallowed, narrowing his eyes and looking away from Rainbow Dash. He gritted his teeth and winced, rolling his shoulders.

"Why're you acting so weird?" 

"Rainbow... Applejack's..." Dylan bit his lip in internal pain, cursing his own weakness. He should've been able to protect her... he knew he should've. 

"Applejack's what?" Rainbow Dash raised her eyebrows, fear slowly moving across her face like a veil. 

"She's... she's been kidnapped, Dash. They killed Granny Smith, almost killed Big Mac, and burned down the house... I... I couldn't stop them all..."

Rainbow Dash stumbled back a step,  tears welling up in the normally hardened pegasus' eyes. She tried to look tough, but inside, she was weeping like a child. Her fear was hidden behind her next actions. Her mouth twisted in an angry snarl as she clenched her teeth and held her hooves at her sides. 

"Who?" 

She looked like she was ready to smash something's face in. Applejack and Rainbow Dash were fierce rivals, but they shared a close bond. They were comrades, friends... almost sisters. All of her friends were close, but she had something different with Applejack; as the two strongest of their group of friends, they constantly tried to outdo the other. 

"Griffons." Twilight said, looking her friend up and down. She didn't share Rainbow Dash's angry regret, but instead possessed a fearful and wizened concern.

"I killed most of the bastards... Most..." Dylan raised his sword, turning it in the rain. Some of the blood began to wash off in the downpour, falling down the steel in dark crimson rivers. "Now... Let's go say hi to the mayor."

***

Evil; Tanning's face was full of it. He was going to make Applejack tell him where Gilda was if he had to break every last bone in her body. His only sister and the closest person to him in his life, and this bitch refused to tell him what she knew about her. He would enjoy every last second of making her suffer. 

She was bleeding from every possible place, including between her legs. The dogs had ridden her raw, their savagery causing indescribable pain for the orange farmpony. She was horribly and painfully bruised across her face and chest, caused by constant punches, slaps, and strikes. Her back was completely torn, furrowed red trenches streaking across it like a grotesque new pattern to her fur. 

After the numerous rapes, whippings, beatings, and other vicious methods of torture, Tanning knew what would break the pony. It was something that would make any pony break down into a sobbing, screaming mess. He snapped his fingers. The diamond dog torturer was at his side in seconds. He pulled the dog close and leaned towards his ear.

"Bring one in." 

The dog looked at Tanning from underneath his goggled black hood and smiled. He walked over to some of the idle guards and began chattering to them authoritatively. They nodded, saluted and left the chamber.

"Whatever yer' doin', it ain't gonna work, shithead." 

"I assssure you it will."

"Heh, ya' said that about everythin' else ya've done t' me... I think yer' nothin' but a liar."

Tanning scowled. "That isss one thing I can sssay that I am not." 

Applejack responded with a mean-spirited chuckle. "Yer' never gonna find out, ya' know that? Ah ain't sayin' shit." 

"You will... You will..." Tanning's confidence seemed to roll off him in waves, along with a strange black glow that came from his eyes and stone arm. 

A few seconds later the chamber's door screeched open with the sound of grinding iron. Two diamond dogs stepped inside, carrying a struggling pony between them. The pony's ribs were completely visible, the skin drawn taught against the bone. It was obvious that prisoners in the fortress were barely fed. The pony was a stallion, but not a large one. He had a black coat, a grey mane, and blue eyes. His cutie mark was a stack of logs and a large axe. 

"Ready to talk?" Tanning said with a venomous tone.

"Go buck yerself'. Ah don't think he can tell you anythin' either."

"It'ssss not him that'ssss going to tell me anything... I thought you were sssmarter than that. I guessss I was wrong." Tanning sneered, taking a step towards the pony. 

While the two guards held the pony in place, Tanning held his face gently in his stone claws. The fear in the stallion's eyes hit Applejack like a slap to the face. The pony was shaking, trying desperately to mutter something. 

"H-h-h-h-he-he-he-help m-m-me." 

"We'll ssssee if ssshe doesss." Tanning turned and looked back at Applejack, a malevolent grin spreading across his face.  "Sssso... Are you ready to tell me where Gilda is?" 

Applejack grunted and adjusted herself in her chair. She didn't seem fazed at all. Nothing Tanning said would make her talk, she knew that with every fibre of her being.

"Ah'm not tellin' you where she is." 

"We'll sssee about that."

By this time, the pony in Tanning's grip was practically twitching in absolute terror, trying desperately to get out of his grasp. Applejack knew the pony; he was one of the town's woodcutters. 

"One lassst chance... Ready to tell me?" Tanning's eyes were filled with a great and terrible darkness as he said this, the likes of which made the most hardened soldiers quake in their boots. 

"NO." Applejack growled loud enough to send drops of blood and spit spraying through the air in front of her. 

Tanning regarded this for a moment, then smiled. The griffon looked more like a devil than anything else. 

"What a ssshame..." 

Moments after he said this, he looked into Applejack's eyes with grotesque pleasure. The anger and hatred pouring from his gaze was so powerful that it seemed to fill the entire room. He smiled cruelly as he squeezed his claws together around the woodcutter's skull. Sickening cracking was what Applejack heard, along with a wet splattering. He had crushed his head like it was nothing. The stallion's dead eyes seemed to stare into Applejack's own, blood pouring from their corners like tears.

Applejack shuddered and screamed as she watched the blood pooling from the split open head of the corpse in front of her. Tanning's stone talons had torn gaping holes in the sides of the stallion's crumpled head, which oozed the skull's contents out onto the floor below. The entire head looked like a crushed eggshell, with various fragments breaking off and splitting in various places. The two guards holding the cadaver released their hold, letting the body fall to the ground with a resounding thud. 

"Bring in another one." Tanning said, growling confidently. "I'm sure our friend here doesn't mind if I have some more fun..." 

The guards dragged away the dead body by its rear legs, giving each other unnerved looks as they did so. They left a trail of deep crimson on the floor as they pulled the body. One of the guards near the entrance pulled open the door for them to pass. He tried to look away from the corpse as the two diamond dogs exited the room. 

Applejack was sobbing. She hadn't really known the pony, but it was traumatic in spite of that fact. She didn't even totally remember his name. It could have been Oakmane or maybe Wood Strider, but she didn't remember. She was too horrified by what had just transpired to care much about his name. She tried desperately to hold herself together, to be strong, to show no weakness. She failed miserably. 

The guards returned, carrying a new pony between them. This one was a mare, and she looked even more frightened than the last prisoner. 

"No! Let me go! S-somepony g-get these damn dogs off of m-"

She was silenced by Tanning slamming his natural fist into her jaw. The mare coughed and began to yell. The griffon's punch had knocked a few teeth loose, which clattered to the floor, falling into the blood of the last prisoner to enter the chamber. 

The mare was small, but wasn't as starved or thin-looking as the stallion that had just left the room with a splintered skull. It was obvious that the dogs fed the females more substantially for... obvious reasons. The two guards holding the prisoner looked a little reluctant to lose one of their prime sources of... entertainment, but they knew that if they didn't follow orders, the madman standing in front of them would send them to the grave. 
She was light brown with a dark chestnut mane. Her cutie mark was a grapevine over a winepress. She had been a winemaker in Ponyville, but Applejack hadn't known her much at all before this, only passing by her on the streets every so often to say a word or two. 

"Heh. Ssshall we continue, Missss Applejack?" Tanning's eyes rolled slowly sideways to give the country mare all their twisted glee.

"Ngh... N... Hhh..." Applejack was panicking, still staring at the blood staining the stone floor like a slick carpet of rich red. 

"Tell me... Or I will kill her. Ssspeak now, or another death will be on your hoovesss." Tanning looked completely serious, as was demonstrated by the claw around the pony's neck. His taloned fingers brushed at the soft flesh of the mare's throat, barely touching it. He smiled in the most disturbing way possible; with the insane brutality that lurks inside all beings of darkness. 

"H-help me!" The winemaker squealed. This only resulted in enjoyment from her captor. 

"Yesss, Applejack... HELP HER!" Tanning's voice boomed across the chamber, making a few of the guards flinch. He began to laugh. Bregan stood completely still, like a statue. His cold, aged eyes regarded everything with a calm readiness that came from experience. This was not the first time that Bregan had witnessed Tanning's brutality, and it would assuredly not be the last. Applejack looked down at her hooves, frowning sadly. Tears were slowly running down each of her cheeks. The hopeless resignation was plainly seen on her face. She couldn't let more suffering happen to someone else, even someone she barely knew. What little she knew about Dylan told her that he would want it to end as well.

"Ah... Ah'll... Tell you..."

Tanning grinned. His victory for the moment was assured. 

"Yesss?" 

"G-Gilda... L-left town..."

"RRRRGH! No! Tell me EVERYTHING!"

"Ah... Ah'm doin' that... She left town after... getting in a fight." 

"With who?!"

"He's... He's a human... the human..." 

This only brought confusion to Tanning's face. He had no idea what a human was. 

"What in the name of the godsss are you talking about?!" 

"H-he's... The one that you fought at the farm..." Applejack collapsed in her chair, completely defeated. Her tears mixed with the blood, filth and muck on the floor under her chair. She stared down in shame, shuddering with each mournful sob she made.

"Ah..." Tanning looked intimidated, enraged and pleased at the same time. The thing that had killed a dozen of his warriors knew where his sister was. He felt fury bubble up from inside him, realizing that the solution to all his problems had fallen through his grasp. He would not make the same mistake twice. 

"Where doesss he live?" 

"H... Guh... Near th' c-center a' town..."

"Which houssse?" 

Applejack told him exactly where Dylan's house was. She slumped forwards in her chair as if a terrible weight had just been thrust upon her.

"Good... I'll keep my word; I won't kill her." 

Tanning lowered his claws from the mare's throat and stepped back. He ran a taloned hand through the feathers on his head.

"Oh, mercy..." The prisoner's shoulders relaxed and her breathing slowed. 

Oh, thank goodness... At least she's- 

Tanning's head bobbed ever so slightly, a hellish grin breaking across his scarred face; He had just nodded to his lieutenant. The sound of talons clacking on stone echoed throughout the chamber as Bregan stepped forward. The air was broken by the terrifying sound of a blade being drawn from its sheath. The griffon lieutenant grabbed the mare by the chin and tilted her head violently upwards. With a sickly shhleck sound, Bregan drew the knife across the winemaker's throat. Blood flowed freely from the gutter the knife had carved in the pony's throat. The winemaker let out a gurgling scream and began to thrash. The fear in her eyes was enough to make Applejack break out into a screaming, wailing fit of tears. Within seconds, the mare collapsed to the floor dead. 

Bregan wiped the blood off of his knife with a dirty rag, then replaced it in its sheath. Tanning and Bregan left the sobbing and screeching Applejack alone with the diamond dog guards.

"Sssend word to Rover and the ressst of the company. We march on Ponyville at dawn."

Bregan saluted and looked into his friend's eyes with a knowing coolness, despite the atrocity he had just committed. "Yes, Captain."

"Old friend?" Tanning said quietly, looking down at his feet.

"Yes... Captain?" Bregan said in the same icy cold tone he always used. He shuffled his feet, but it was barely noticeable. 

"My sssiss-"

"We'll get her back, Tanning. We will." 

The griffon captain solemnly nodded at his comrade-in-arms, who he had fought beside for years. He almost never addressed him by name.

"Thank you, friend. Bregan... I... I must ask if you-"

"Hrmph... Yes. Yes I do." Bregan swallowed, glancing down at the floor and then back up.

"I thought asss much... But I swear, if you-"

"Its me, Tanning. Me. I wouldn't ever hurt her."

Tanning nodded, grinning. "Yesss... It  isss you... We'll make these bastards pay."

"Yes sir..."

***

The mayor was sitting at her desk, passing over another completely pointless and incredibly boring piece of paperwork. She sipped idly at a cup of tea as she looked through the piece of paperwork one last time.

"Why is it that nothing exciting ever happens around here?!" 

As if by divine power, she was answered almost immediately by shouting from the floor below her office. It sounded like one of her guards was yelling a warning to someone. There was a response by a naggingly familiar but altogether alien voice. The words were so loud they could be heard as clearly as if the speaker had been standing next to her.

"THE MAYOR, NOW! INEED TO SPEAK TO HER!" 

The guards shouted something back, but from the sound of their voices they were obviously intimidated. 

"NO! I WILL NOT LEAVE! IF YOU WISH TO KEEP YOUR LIVES, YOU WILL MOVE!"

The guards seemed to quiet down. The mayor listened intently, her heart beating rapidly in her chest. She was afraid; very afraid. She didn't have much time to be, as the door opened with a low creak. One of her guards had pushed it open. He was shoved out of the way by the same drunkard creature that she had met the night earlier. 

"Miss Mayor." Dylan said this with a bow. He looked as if he had been through an unimaginable amount of punishment. He was covered in mud, his clothes were torn in places, and he was completely drenched.

The mayor simply stared in astonishment for a moment, then began to speak rather frantically.

"What is your reason for being here?! What could you possibly want from me?!"

Dylan realized he still had a bloody sword in his hand. He wiped the blade clean on the inside of his coat and slipped it through his belt. 

"I need to talk to you. Something very horrible has just occurred, and if we don't do something about it, the town will be destroyed." 

"Wh-what?! What's happened?"

Dylan gritted his teeth in anger and looked out the mayor's office window. A flash of lightning lit up his face with bizarre ghost-light. 

"Applejack has been taken." 

The mayor stared in shock at Dylan, jaw agape. 

"T-that's impossible! /Nothing/ of this sort has ever happened in Ponyville!"

"Well, it has now. They also burned down Sweet Apple Acres and killed Granny Smith." 

The mayor and the guards all shared expressions of horror.

"That's... Oh-" The mayor looked like she was about to vomit, but she managed to hold herself together. "Who is they?" 

"Griffons." Dylan growled the word angrily; the creatures had earned his eternal spite. 

"Griffons?! What are griffons doing in Ponyville?!"

"They're looking for someone, but that's not important now. I need you to do something for me." 

The mayor looked at Dylan with an expression of confused curiosity. 

"What do you need me to do, exactly?"

"Assemble everyone." 

"Wh-why?!"

Dylan narrowed his eyes and took a deep breath. He looked out into the night with a grim understanding.

"Because we're gonna kill the bastards that took her... Every last one..." 


AUTHOR'S NOTE

Shit's gettin' real, boys and girls, or if you happen to be of equine race, fillies and colts. I'm still -and will be until I say I'M NOT- taking OC requests. If you have an idea, look up the template in my blog post 'More OC's? OH, THE MADNESS!' fill it out, and PM me. Cheers. 

Stay bloodthirsty my friends.

~Chuckles

> Chapter 19- The Tempest Comes
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"The Other Side" Chapter 19- The Tempest Comes

The mayor acted as swiftly as possible, considering the shocking news that had just been delivered to her. Within minutes, the whole of Ponyville was assembled around the Town Hall. They all waited anxiously, whispering words between one another in anticipation.

Dylan walked up to the top of the podium that stood at the front of the hall. All eyes in the crowd turned to him. He was beaten, battered, bloody and every last pony there could see the death in his eyes. His blue eyes seemed filled with a burning wrath, two points of bright passion burning in the darkness. 

All of Applejack's friends were there, along with Fluttershy, who had since finished her duties with Big Macintosh; he seemed to be stable and would recover soon. He looked at her longingly for a moment, then turned back to face the crowd. He put on the most serious face that he possibly could, then cleared his throat.  

"Citizens of Ponyville!"

His voice carried to the far edges of the crowd, causing some ponies to murmur in shock; the force he put into his words was unusual for them. The Mayor almost never spoke with the tone of voice that Dylan was using, and she definitely did not come close to its volume.

"Tonight, in this very town, the unspeakable has happened! One of this town's most upstanding members has been taken!"

At this, fear and confusion seemed to roll over the throng of ponies like a wave crashing over a ship at sea. They didn't know what to think; their town was one of the most peaceful settlements in all of Equestria.  

"Not only this, but one of Ponyville's citizens has been murdered!" 

Screams. Panicked yelling. Crying. 

"Sweet Apple Acres burns! They have taken Applejack, they have killed Granny Smith... Who has done this doesn't matter!"

Rarity and Pinkie Pie gasped; they had not heard any of this before. 

"But what does matter is this: They will come back! They will not stop!"

More panic from the crowd, followed by shouts of 'We're bucked!' or 'Everypony run!'. It looked like the crowd was starting to desperately try to get away. 

"Run? NO! NO RUNNING! Where would you run? This is your home... My home! And now, when it is the time to defend it, you run?! What are you? What are you that you would let your homes, your land and your families be destroyed? What are you that you would run away from everything you worked so hard to make for yourselves? I can tell you this... You are cowards if you do these things."

Silence fell over the crowd, and all who had begun to turn and leave looked back at the human standing on the podium.

"I have been here only a few days, and I can tell you that I have found a home... a place that I am proud to be, friends that I never want to lose... And... I WILL NOT LET THAT BE TAKEN AWAY!"

Dylan's last sentence was a roar, full of power and emotion. He felt the defiance in side of him building, straining against the walls of his psyche, bursting forth in a flash of passion. The crowd was now staring in complete awe.

"I WILL NOT STAND AND WATCH AS EVERYTHING I LOVE SO DEAR IS DESTROYED AROUND ME! I WILL NOT WATCH AS IT BURNS, I WILL NOT LISTEN FOR THE SOUND OF ITS DEMISE! WHAT I WILL DO IS FIGHT! This is our home! This is what you must fight for! I know you are a peaceful people, but there comes a time that peace must be dead and buried, lest your freedoms and your love be taken away! We cannot simply sit idly by and let what we love be destroyed!"

The air was silent, the night sky full of sparkling points of light as the stars seemed to gaze down. Dylan's impassioned, booming voice was the only sound to be heard; all else hushed and watched on in chilled anticipation.

"I cannot say that I do not know many of you... even fewer are my friends... but that doesn't matter. What matters is one question: WILL YOU FIGHT BY MY SIDE?!"

Dylan's roaring query was answered at first by stunned silence. It appeared that no one would make a sound. The crowd seemed to stand as still as stone, their eyes locked on the lone human. The moment seemed to drag on forever, when suddenly it shattered. The whole town raised their voices in one affirmative response; yelling, whooping, cheering, chanting. 

"SLAY-ER! SLAY-ER! SLAY-ER! SLAY-ER! SLAY-ER!" 

It appeared that even Fluttershy had joined in on the chant, to Dylan's surprise. The name, as far as he could tell, came from his killing of the manticore when he first arrived. The whole town seemed to be caught up in a burning fervor, fanatically working themselves up. 

Dylan blinked slowly, smiling as he did so. He nodded and spoke again, his expression once again one of darkness. 

"We are not soldiers, but I know one thing: WARRIORS ARE BORN, NOT MADE! Now, were you born warriors?"

A resounding cry of "YES!" swept across the crowd. Dylan doubted it, but he needed the townsfolk as confident and as energetic as possible. He didn't have much time to train them at all before the griffons were sure to return with their diamond dog allies. He turned and whispered to the mayor. 

"Send messengers to the Princess; we need soldiers, not villagers." 

"I'm afraid that might take too long."

Twilight spoke up after the mayor. 

"I think I have a solution to that..." Twilight pointed a hoof to Spike, who was cheering from the crowd. 

"Good. We don't have much time." 

Rainbow Dash crossed her arms and huffed. "We can take em'." 

"Hopefully we can, but if we can't..." 

Fluttershy looked at Dylan tenderly, trying to sense what exactly her human companion was thinking; it definitely wasn't good.

"Um... Dylan?" 

"Yes, Fluttershy?" 

Fluttershy looked nervous and scared, more than she normally did when she was frightened.
"What will we do if-"

Dylan shook his head. 

"I'll make sure it never happens." 

The darkness in his voice held the most grim certainty that she had ever heard. 

"They'll pay with their blood." 

***

"What do you mean 'we're not going after the Darkstalkers'?!"

Rover was definitely agitated. Bregan had just informed him of Tanning's plans to attack Ponyville. He was only waiting for his soldiers to arrive at the fortress. The plan to clear out the caves of the current infestation would have to wait. 

"Tanning's orders."

Bregan's response was cool and contained; his voice was usually such anyways. 

The two figures stood on a platform overlooking a large underground courtyard. The floor of the courtyard was mostly polished stone slabs, but a circle of floor in the center was dirt. The dirt was enclosed by a fence. Diamond dogs sparred in the circle with staves, hands and wooden swords and shields. The clatter of wooden weapons striking one another and the sounds of exertion fell upon the ears of Rover and Bregan. 

"So, Tanning wishes to use me like a puppet? I am no one's pawn, and I will not tolerate this disrespect!" 

Rover turned to face Bregan after looking down at his subordinates. He was obviously disappointed and frustrated at having plans changed without his say. He growled in frustration. His two well-equipped bodyguards tensed and reached for their swords. Bregan's hand slowly moved onto the haft of his morningstar. Violence seemed to hang in the air like a veil, dark and cold.

The diamond dog alpha stared into Bregan's cold, focused eyes. His expression changed from one of anger to one of resignation. Rover sighed. He knew that the griffon before him could kill both him and his guards easily. He would have to wait for another opportunity. He waved a hand to the guards standing behind Bregan. They looked at each other, then relaxed. After a few moments Bregan removed his grip from his weapon. 

"As you wish. We will try to make ready. In the meantime, make sure that Tanning is sure about this." 

"He is." 

Bregan turned on his heels and walked out of the room, giving the two guards cold looks as he passed. He closed the door behind him after saying a few words.

"Watch yourself, dog. Next time blood will spill, I swear it." 

Rover shook his head and turned back to look out into the courtyard. Rover's other unseen guard stepped from the shadows and looked at the door with a hint of anger on his face. 

"It shall... And it won't be mine..." 

Rover grinned and crossed his paws behind his back. He knew just how to get rid of the griffons.

It's only a matter of time...

***
The dungeons; still quite as depressing, filthy and bleak as always. The cells' occupants moaned and cried. Abuse and neglect was common for the prisoners, but they never truly grew accustomed to it.

He was down here for reasons secret to himself; He wanted to see the latest prisoner personally. The work pony from Ponyville had endured her fair share of hardships this night, and he knew they wouldn't be the last. 

The clicking sound of his steps on the prison floor was as loud as thunder to his own ears. His heart beat quickly, fueled by anxious fear and excitement. He was shaking profusely as he came up to the prison guard on duty.

"What is it, whelp? Somebody steal yer' scraps agin'?" The guard laughed mockingly as he leaned on his short spear like a walking stick. He glared from underneath his helmet's visor at the figure before him. 

He was only two and a half feet tall -at least three feet shorter than the guard- yet he was slouched over in fear, making him even shorter. He looked like a shaggy and messy ball of fur; it was hard to tell where the fur ended and flesh began. He was dark brown in color, and he looked quite dirty. His watery almond-colored eyes were full of fear, and he could hardly look at the guard in front of him.

"N-no... I'm h-here to... to... s-see the p-prisoner?" He muttered this with as much courage that he could muster, which wasn't much. 

"Haha! Are ye now? Well, me tiny compatriot, which prisoner might that be?" 

"Th-the new one..." 

"The new one?! Nobody's s'posed t' see er'. What makes you so different, eh? R' ye special r' sumfin'?" The guard was starting to look suspicious. 

"W-well... I... I have this." The scrawny, fluffy little dog retrieved a scroll from a pouch at his side and held it out. It read: 

Order of Treatment. 

The bearer of this notice is to be given full authorization to treat any and all prisoners of the great Lord Rover. The bearer of this paper is not to be detained, questioned or injured in any way possible. Such violation of the bearer's rights will be met with immediate execution or worse. 

Taskmaster Rex.

The guard took the note from his hand and looked down at it with a frown. His face quickly took on a pale, nervous look. 

"G-go ahead, mate..." 

The prison guard handed him back the note with a gulp, then waved him through as he opened the heavy door to the interrogation chamber. 

He didn't say anything in return; he was too terrified to. He tried to look confident and suppress his guilt; the paper was forged, and not convincingly so. He was lucky that the guard was stupid, otherwise the outcome would have been considerably worse. 

He breathed a sigh of relief after the door closed behind him. The sight that greeted him inside the room made him gag. He had to try not to vomit at the disgusting and horrible sight before him. 

The pony was slumped in her chair, her chin pressed up against her chest. Bleeding wounds covered most of her body, tracing along her fur in lines of red. He tried not to look, but his eyes were drawn lower, to between the pony's legs. Blood poured from inside her, along with other fluids that are best left not described. The floor around the chair was caked with slowly-drying blood.  
There was another pool of blood a few feet in front of the chair, along with red drag-marks leading towards the door. 

He moved closer to her. As he neared he felt compassion and pity welling up inside his heart. She looked even worse up close. Bruises covered almost every part of her body, along with ragged chaff marks from the ropes tying her to the chair. Tear-stains led down from her eyes, telling the tale of her misery and pain. She was completely motionless.

He wished and prayed that she was still alive. His clawed hands shook as they carefully moved to her face. He tilted her head upwards, bringing it up to look at him. Her eyes remained closed. 

"Wake up! Please wake up!" He whispered this as desperately as he could, almost crying. 

Applejack remained motionless. A single drop of blood rolled down her lip, staining her orange fur with its crimson essence. She did not react in any way. He frantically put his ear up to her chest, listening as intently as his sharp canine ears possibly could. 

Nothing.

He heard nothing... he knew what it meant... he had heard the silence so many times before... She was dead. 

With a shuddering motion, he began to cry. Not just cry; weep. He was sobbing as if he had known her all of his life. An innocent life had been ended. It wasn't the first he had seen pass away, for in his line of work, you either got used to it, or you didn't keep your job for long. 

He buried his face against her shoulder, pouring forth his tears. He whimpered and moaned, releasing all the pain and sadness that he felt. He hadn't known her, but that didn't matter; he wished he could have. 

He pulled himself away and dejectedly turned away. His shoulders and head hung low as he hunched over in misery. He opened the door and walked through, ignoring the nervous words of the door's guardian. He walked away, trying as hard as he could to hide his sorrow. 

Innocence is something we all must come to understand; either we are innocent of all crimes, or we are not truly innocent.

***

War. War is something that the citizens of Ponyville have a hard time understanding. A race of peaceful, fun-loving ponies is not suited for the horrors of brutal combat. All those fights and battles you see in the movies... they're completely false. There's no elegant grace, no clean death; fighting is brutal, dirty and unforgiving. It is not suited for farmers, florists and bakers. The fact that most of the town had never even been in a fight -much less struck another being- made Dylan's job incredibly hard. It was unbelievably frustrating trying to teach ponies how to fight; they had a hard time understanding the concept alone, much less the mindset and techniques behind it.

At the moment, Pinkie Pie and Rarity were watching Dylan's attempts at training a group of ponies for combat. Rarity frowned while Pinkie Pie raised a confused eyebrow. The two were obviously not used to watching fights, and their inexperience was obvious if anyone cared to look at their faces.

Dylan had just knocked a burly looking stallion to the ground with a crude wooden stave. The pony grunted as he collapsed down into the dirt, losing grip of his own wooden pole. He groaned and tryed to stand, but Dylan pressed down on his neck with his foot. He pointed the tip of his staff at the fallen stallion's head. He let it hover there for a few moments before he moved it away. He released his foot from the now-coughing pony's neck.

"You will not show the same mercy to the enemy, remember that."

Dylan pulled the stallion up by a hoof, giving him a satisfied look as the stallion nodded. Although reluctant to admit it, the pony was beginning to understand what it meant to fight. 

"How barbaric!"Dylan turned to the sound of Rarity's voice with a scowl on his face. "How can you teach such uncivilized brutishness?!" Rarity was indignant, and Dylan could see the fire in her eyes would not die down without a fight. Hopefully he would teach her how to do that. "I thought you were a noble and honorable soul, Dylan, but now I see what you really think of the world." 

Dylan flashed Rarity the smallest glimpse of anger, but it passed almost instantly, replaced with a frustrated and annoyed.
"Some things are more important than being civilized, Rarity. Do you think freedom is made by peace? No. It's made by war. If you aren't willin' to fight those who would take it away, you don't deserve it in the first place."

Pinkie Pie spoke up now. "But... why? Why would anyone ever want to take away our freedom?"

Dylan looked at Pinkie with the grimmest, most focused expression that she had ever seen. He paused for a moment to breathe through his clenched teeth. He blinked and growled out his next three words.

"Because they can."

"Wha- That's so... so-"

"Evil? Yeah. Get used to it, because if you don't, you'll end up a victim of it. The world ain't fun and games, Pinkie. It ain't fun and games. It's kill or be killed. Pinkie, if you don't want to die, you have to remember that this is war. You'll have to kill."

"K-kill?!" 

Pinkie looked frightened now, and the glistening fear in her eyes seemed to only make Dylan feel more strongly that she wasn't ready to fight.

"You're scaring her, Dylan!"

"Scaring her with the truth? Good. Better now than when it could cost Pinkie her life. Hopefully she'll be stronger for it."

"I... oh... but I don't-" Pinkie looked like she was going to start crying. Rarity shot Dylan a venomous stare, hunching down to glare at him with disgust.

"That's sickening! How can you live with yourself?! I used to think you were a gentleman! Pinkie didn't ask for you to traumatize her! How can you possibly know what it's li-" 

"Because I do." 

"Stop acting so superior! You arrogant buck. You think that your mother would like to hear you saying these horrible things?! What kind of twisted, sick person are you? Do you think she would want to see the monster you've become?!" 

Dylan's face contorted into a mask of fury. His lips curled back from his teeth, revealing the bright whites of his canines.

"MY FATHER MURDERED MY MOTHER, YOU BITCH!"

Dylan snarled, baring his teeth at Rarity. His eyes flared in a burning display of unrepressed anger. His body language changed to a defensive posture and he threw his staff to the ground. Every pony stared with their mouthed wide open, completely shocked beyond saying anything. Pinkie was the first to speak.

"Oh... that's awful... h-how could he d-do something like that?" 

Dylan's face softened. Pinkie could see the sorrow in his eyes.

"He was a monster... just... not like me..." 

Rarity looked at him apologetically, genuinely sorry of she had said. She spoke again, her voice ladened down with guilt. 

"Dylan... I... I'm sorry... I didn't know that-"

"You. Shut up. Shut. The. Fuck. Up... I don't wanna hear any more from you... I thought we were friends, but apparently we're not." 

"But Dylan, I-"

"No. Just no. I don't wanna hear more a' your shit." 

Pinkie Pie tried to break the tension, smiling nervously as she began to talk.

"I... I'm sure she didn't mean it, Dylan." 

"Really? Could've fucking fooled me."

"You're not a monst-"

"I killed him."

Pinkie Pie's lips barely moved in response; she was almost too taken aback to move.

"What?" 

"I shoved a goddamn knife through his heart. He begged for mercy, cried, and tried to tell me he didn't mean to kill her. I still killed him. And you know what? I FUCKING LOVED IT. I told you I was a monster, and I am one. Now you know why I can say this shit... because I lived it... Where I come from, people are murdered every single day. Every... fucking... day... And I've learned firsthand how evil people can be."

There was an odd look on Dylan's face; it was the cross between a grin and a snarl. His clenched his fists violently, turning his knuckles white. He heard someone behind him. He turned first his head, and then his body to look. Standing behind him was Rainbow Dash.

Dylan regarded her awed expression with cooler eyes than he had just possessed a moment ago. 

"How much did you hear?" Dylan asked calmly, raising an eyebrow.

Rainbow Dash looked down at the ground, trying not to cast her eyes towards Dylan. "All of it..." 

"... Now you know." 

"I... I guess I do."

"Now, we need to keep trainin'. If we aren't ready for them when they arrive, then we will die. I've already gotten Twilight to send a message to Princess Celestia to send the army. They won't be here for a while... which means we'll probably have to fight on our own... I don't know how long..."

Rainbow Dash opened her mouth to say something, but closed it again after she realized how many ponies were watching the scene with utter shock on their faces. What she wanted to say was also something she didn't want to say in front of Pinkie or Rarity.

"Uh... yeah... Dylan, could I talk to you in private for a sec?"

"Sorry, Dash, I can't waste any time now. If I don't have everyone ready, then there's gonna be a whole lotta blood on my hands."

"I... Uh..."

Dylan regarded Rainbow Dash's expression fora moment; it was tender, vulnerable... this wasn't the Rainbow Dash he had known the past few days. Her face hardened after a moment, becoming confident once again. 

"Okay. Could you teach me a few things?"

"Sure, Dash. Sure." 

What the hell was that? Something weird's goin' on with Dash...

***

More than two hundred griffon soldiers stood at attention. They were all outside the diamond dog fortress. The guards at the gate looked at each other unsurely, swallowing back their nervous fear. The griffons all had stony looks on their faces, their eyes locked completely on the giant iron doors that served as the fortress' main entrance. Diamond dogs stared out at the griffons from inside the fort, looking through slits and trapdoors in the side of the fort. Everyone present could feel the tension in the air. The two groups did not feel the slightest at ease with one another, that much was obvious.

The uneasy silence was broken by the deep metal groan of the doors swinging outwards. They moved slowly, inching their way open as they continued to groan. All eyes turned to the figures standing.in the doorway:

A dozen of Rover's personal guard, dressed in highly decorated armor and carrying expertly crafted weapons. 

Taskmaster Rex, still dressed in his bearhide cloak and carrying his massive battle axe, his thick armor glinting dully in the orange-yellow torchlight.

Bregan, now dressed in full armor and carrying a shield, his cloak open wide to show off his enormous muscles and the cruel morningstar hanging from his belt.

Rover's personal guard, his face hidden under the shadows of his hood, paws dangling loosely over the hilts of his rapiers. 

Rover himself, donned head to toe in his gold-trimmed armor, carrying his longsword at his side and holding a glaive like a walking staff in one hand. 

Tanning, wearing a suit of finely crafted platemail, his whip and falchion hanging at his side, carrying a spear and shield. 

All of the figures looked deadly by themselves; together, their appearance was one of complete menace. They walked forward and stopped a dozen feet from the griffons.

"Avyrr, Kadar!" 

The whole of the griffon formation shouted these two words of the griffon language with a violent passion. 

Hail, captain!

Tanning smiled as he heard the words, then saluted back, along with Bregan. 

"<GLORY TO THE CLAN!>" The griffon captain shouted back even louder than his troops in the griffon language.

"<Glory to the clan!>" 

Tanning's troops cheered again, raising their right fists into the air and shaking them. The sound of rattling armor and the snapping of cloth filled the air. They continued to chant furiously, but stopped at the sound of Tanning's voice.

"My ssssoldiers, at dawn we march! We will crush these pathetic, worthlesssss weaklingsss under our clawsss! They harbor an abomination! This abomination could hold my very sssister captive in itsss clutchesss! It has ssslain a dozen of usss already, and I will not give it a chance to kill more! I do not need all of you for thisss, but I asssk every lassst one of you to be ready. Ressst now, for only a few hoursss from now we march to battle!"

The roar of the griffons rose into the night air powerfully. The sound of weapons and armor clattering against each other in celebration rang out like thunder. Tanning smiled and nodded to himself, then turned on his heel and began walking back inside. Rover, Bregan and the others followed close behind him. 

His warriors slowly began filing through the open iron doors. The two hundred griffons vastly outnumbered the diamond dogs, and the dogs in question were certainly not at ease with this.

They were ready for war. Victory seemed assured. A town of peaceful, naïve ponies seemed no match for the military might of the griffon military. 

***

Celestia looked at the message floating in the air in front of her. The scroll was the typical style that her student in Ponyville sent her, but the message was completely different. 

Dear Princess Celestia, 

I have no time to explain, but this is not one of my normal letters. Ponyville is about to come under attack, and we desperately need the army, otherwise we will not be able to repel the invaders. Griffons and diamond dogs are planning to besiege the town. 

Currently, we are relying on the help of a new friend. He seems to know a thing or two about the art of war, or fighting at the very least. 
His name is Dylan. He is a human.

Celestia's eyes widened, and a look halfway between horror and anger washed over her visage. Celestia slammed the unfinished letter down on her table. A dark understanding crept over Celestia's mind; she knew exactly what humans were capable of, as well as something else... something that had remained a secret for thousands of years. 

"Guards!" 

Celestia's cry was answered immediately by a pair of golden-armored royal guards barging into the room with determined looks on their faces. They held their spears as if they had hands; it was not something easily explainable, but it was said to be a form of telekinetic magic that all ponies possessed to some extent. 

"What is it, Princess? Is everything all right?" 

Celestia frowned. Memories came flooding back from the darkest pits of her mind. Bloody, carnage-filled nightmares trying desperately to tear their way out of her subconscious. Every thought had one thing in common: humans.

"No. Everything is not all right. Assemble the army."

"Wh-what? The army?!" 

"You heard me, guardsman. Send word to my generals. We're heading to Ponyville." 

The guards saluted and proceeded quickly out of the room. Celestia was left to deal with her thoughts. It was as if each one was barbed; they were painful, and of you tryed to remove them, you only ended up wounding yourself more. 

"After all these years... but... how?" 

Celestia gazed out into the night sky outside of her throne room's stained glass windows. The window she was staring through was a scene of Discord. As she looked up at Luna's moon, she thought she heard something. A distant sound like dark, low laughter scraped the edge of her consciousness like a clawed hand. 

Hello my sweet. It's been such a... short time.

Celestia was breathless. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled, and she felt a chill race down her spine. That voice was as familiar to her as any old friend's... yet there was no friendliness in it. 

"Y-you... but... /Oh, no-/"

"OHHHHH, YESSSSSSS!"

The voice began to laugh again; a shadowy, deep and malevolent mocking cackle. Celestia flared in anger, her mane beginning to burn and her eyes starting to glow. Her voice took on a tone deeper than it naturally should, becoming just as monstrous as the voice she was talking to.

"YOU ARE MY PRISONER, FOOL! YOU ARE IN NO POSITION TO BE AMUSED!" 

"Oh? Is that so? I suppose you expect me to stay in this stone prison forever? Celestia, you really are a bitch, darling. You used to be so much fun, but now... I think we've passed the point of having any more of that together."

"Discord... You pathetic little fool... YOU THINK THAT YOU CAN DEFEAT THE ELEMENTS? DO YOU NOT REMEMBER THE LAST TIME YOU TRIED THAT?!"

"I'm no fool; You'll learn that soon enough once I've got my hands wrapped around your dainty little throat... Things have changed, my dear, and they do not look good for you."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Oh. Ah! I see you've forgotten how fond I am of games, Celestia. I always did love a good game. It's a shame that you don't know all the pieces..." 

"What are you talking about?!" 

"You'll see, Tia. You... will... see. Traitors will get their dues... especially you."

"YOU DARE THREATEN ME?! THE RULER OF ALL EQUESTRIA IS NOT ONE TO BE TRIFLED WITH!"

The being of Chaos didn't respond, but Celestia felt a strange sensation. She became filled with a terror that she kept to herself, for weakness was not a thing she displayed openly. She knew somehow that Discord was laughing at her... 

*** 

Preparations were going smoothly, apart from the small amount of weapons in the town. There were a few axes, hammers, and a sickle or two, but nothing close to enough to arm the whole town. They had even looted what they could from the griffon bodies, but most of it was broken or burned in the fire that destroyed the farmhouse. Dylan had tasked the towns smiths and carpenters with producing what they could in the short amount of time they had left. What they did manage to make was simple and crude, as they were not used to making weapons of war in the slightest. 

Spears and clubs made up the majority of the town's weapons, with an odd axe or other bladed weapon thrown in. Bows were short in supply, and none of the ponies had the slightest idea how to use one in the first place. Now that Dylan thought about it, he wasn't even sure if they could. He took one of the bows that was still salvageable and practiced with it. He wasn't an expert archer, but he had used a bow a few times before. 

He had made other preparations as well, taking great care to make sure that they were ready. The ponies he had sent to work on that particular project returned, carrying their shovels and mallets with tired looks on their faces. He nodded approvingly as he watched them pass, noting that despite their tiredness they still looked determined and confident. 

Now that he thought about it, most of the town shared the same expressions. Maybe he was better at giving speeches than he first thought, but he didn't have time to think about that now.

After he had sparred with Rainbow Dash for a while, it seemed obvious that she could handle herself in a fight. She was a martial artist like himself; both of them seemed to share a competitive camaraderie, each trying to outdo the other. Normally Applejack would be the one competing with Rainbow Dash, but her current state was unknown to both Dylan and Rainbow Dash. 

Dylan continued to get strange looks from Rainbow Dash, yet he didn't really mind; he just didn't understand what they meant. He was suspicious of his new friend, but he wasn't exactly sure what of. She seemed to follow him wherever he went in the town, always a few steps behind him. She got a little defensive about what he had said to Rarity, but Dylan's protectiveness outmatched hers threefold; his family was not an area that he let people ask about. He thought he had made this completely clear the night that they had thrown a party for him. It had almost resulted in a brawl between Dylan and Dash, and he would regret it if it did come to such a thing again.
It also occurred to him that he had almost hit Fluttershy when she tried to intervene. If he had, he didn't know what he would have done.

Dylan arrived at the clinic where Big Mac was being treated. He seemed to be almost completely recovered, much to Dylan's surprise. Inside the clinic along with Apple Bloom, Fluttershy, the staff and Big Mac was a grey pony with a blonde mane. Her cutie mark was a stream of bubbles; Dylan guessed she was either /really/ good at making bubble baths, or that she had a bubbly personality. He assumed it was the latter. Dylan came up and stood next to Big Mac, who was currently sitting down in one of the clinic's chairs. The grey pony turned to look at Dylan. He was slightly taken by surprise at the pony's eyes; one of them seemed to gaze off at an odd angle, looking down and to one side. 

"Hello!" The mare said cheerfully. Her expression changed when she saw the state of Dylan; his torn clothes, bloody skin, unshaven face, and the bags under his eyes. 

"Uh, hi." Dylan wondered how the pony could be so cheerful at a time like this. 

"I... I haven't seen you around town before." 

"I haven't seen you either."

"Oh! My name's Ditzy; Ditzy Doo. But my friends call me Derpy!"

"Well, considerin' I've just met you, I should call you Ditzy."

"No, that's fine, call me whatever you like, mister...?" 

"Dylan. I'm Dylan MacLauchlan." 

"Nice to meet you, Doolan MickLollipop!"

"Uh... Sure. Hehe."

Fluttershy seemed to come out of nowhere, throwing her hooves around Dylan's shoulders.

"Dylan! I'm so glad to see you! I... um... uh... was getting worried about you!"

Dylan smiled at the yellow pegasus whose eyes were only a few inches from his own. He hugged her close, pressing his chest against hers.

"Heh. Don't worry about me, I can take care of myself just fine. How's Mac doin'?"

"Ah'm fine. Just a little tired s'all. How's mah favorite city boy?" Big Mac grinned, showing off his pearly white teeth.

"City boy? How'd you know, you literal redneck?"

"I kin' just tell."

"Oh, well, I've done well enough so far out here in the country, haven't I? Besides, I've had my fair share of time in the wilderness, anyways. "

"Eeyup." 

Dylan looked at the bandages wrapped around the burly red stallion, his brow creasing as he focused on them. 

"How 'bout you, Apple Bloom? You... doin' better?" 

The little filly looked slightly distressed, like she was thinking hard about something. 

"Whassamatter? Did you have a bad batch of apples or somethin'? Cause /whew boy/ do my farts smell bad after I have me some bad apples!"

Dylan made a farting sound with his lips, which made Apple Bloom's face brighten a tiny bit. 

"Aw, shucks no. Ah'm... Ah'm just thinkin' about Granny..."

"I didn't know her, really, but she was a good grandmother for sure. She stood up for Applejack, even with everything that was happening. She sure cared about you guys for sure."

Apple Bloom's melancholy expression began to return. She looked like she was about to cry.

"You're tough, you know that?" 

"Huh?"

"Look how young you are; goin' through stuff like this'd probably make other kids your age into a weeping mess. Not you, you're tough. Not many people I can say that about." 

Apple Bloom's ears had been drooping, but they perked up immediately after Dylan said this.

"You... you really think so?"

"Sure do." 

"Um... Ah dunno what t' say."

"Haha! You don't need to say anything... Apple Bloom, could you give us a minute alone?"

"Why?"

The young filly gave Dylan a curious look and raised an eyebrow.

"It's somethin' the adults have to talk about alone."

"Oh... Okay..." 

Apple Bloom's tiny hoofsteps resounded through the room as she left. Dylan closed the door behind her and went back to Fluttershy, Derpy Hooves and Big Macintosh. 

"I don't know when they're gonna come, but it's soon. We need everyone completely ready for this. Fluttershy, I need you to get everyone who can't fight somewhere safe. We can't put them in danger. Besides, we don't want the children and the old getting in the way. Ditzy, I need you to get as many pegasi as you can and keep watch for them. They can fly, so make sure to watch the skies too. Big Mac, I know what kind of shape you're in, but I need your help getting the last of the fortifications around the town set up."

"I kin' do that, pardner." 

"Good-"

"Dylan?" Fluttershy looked worried, and the concern on her face didn't help him at all.

"Yes?"

"I... just... be safe, okay?" The pegasus mare looked fearful, her eyes staring at Dylan as if she wondered if he would come back.

"I'll try."

"Uh, guys?" Derpy began to speak, but was cut off by the sound of the front door slamming open. Rainbow Dash stood there, wide-eyed. She stuttered out her next sentence excitedly.

"T-t-they're h-h-here!"

"What?!" Dylan's face twisted in surprise. "Oh, fucking shit. They're here earlier than I thought.  Fluttershy, go, NOW. Get the children to safety. Derpy, you're with me. Big Mac, you too. Dash, lead the way." 

Fluttershy nodded, her face taking on a determined expression. Rainbow Dash flew back outside, spreading her wings to catch the wind. Big Macintosh and Derpy Hooves followed Dylan as he ran out of the clinic. The townsponies were in a panic, scurrying wildly around in confusion and fear. The three of them had to weave and dodge their way through the crowd to get to where Rainbow Dash had seen the enemy. 

"Everyone, on me! On me!" Dylan bellowed over the screams and shouts of the crowd. A few of the less panicked ponies stopped and looked at him, then began to follow warily. 

Dylan arrived at the outskirts of the town, at one of the ramshackle towers that the ponies had built while he had been training the townsfolk. He climbed the rickety structure, following Rainbow Dash, who had glided up to the top.

Dylan leaned on the crude wooden railing of the tower, staring at the horizon intently. He furrowed his brow when he saw nothing.

"Where are they?!" Dylan asked Dash frustratedly.

"They're there, just keep looking." 

Rainbow Dash flapped her wings constantly as she hovered some feet aways from the tower. She had a short sword on her hip and a shield on her front hoof, both taken from one of the griffons that Dylan had slain. 

Derpy Hooves seemed nervous. She was almost shaking now. 

"D-d-do you s-see them?" 

"No... Dash, how far were they from the town when you saw them?"

"A couple a' miles."

"Then we don't have much-... Oh fuck..." 

The bright orange sunrise washed its warm light over the plains, washing over each hill and ridge like a wave. 

What Dylan saw on the horizon chilled him to the bone; a line of glinting shields, at least a hundred of them. A cloud of dust rose up from the horde of troops advancing towards the town, heralding the formation's size.

"What is it?!" A stallion spoke up, holding his spear with an anxious expression. Dylan still didn't quite understand how ponies held weapons, but his mind was too occupied at the moment to even think about that. 

"Get everyone... Get them all here, now... We're gonna need all the help we can get." 

***

Tanning looked at the buildings of the town in the distance. He could just barely make out figures moving between them. He grinned and looked at Bregan, who walked beside him. His friend was as stone-faced as ever.

"We'll burn it all to the ground... They don't ssstand a chance." 

Bregan nodded and adjusted his grip on his morningstar. Rover turned back to look at Ponyville with cruel, malevolent eyes.

"I'll find the one who took you away, ssssister. I will!" 


AUTHOR'S NOTE

Aw man... Man, oh man. Now I have to write the battle... 

Don't think you guys were expecting AJ to die. Oh well. All I can say is stick around, because I'm completely unpredictable. 

Cheers.

~Chuckles

> Chapter 20- Blood on the Plains
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"The Other Side" Chapter 20- Blood on the Plains (Part 1)

"Everyone get ready for these bastards! Archers, get to your positions! Grab a weapon and get to the line! They're not gonna wait fer' us!" 

Dylan had taken on the air of a battlefield commander; collected and authoritative. He watched as ponies began running pell-mell for the edge of the town, taking up positions in a line in front of the tower. A smaller group of ponies climbed and flew their way up to high positions, either in the tower or on the roofs of houses. There were only about a dozen of them, and they were equipped with crude, quickly-made bows and only had a few arrows. The ponies on the front line had shields made of wooden planks, along with a mix of various simple weapons; spears, clubs, picks, axes, sickles and hammers. The ponies didn't seem to be in any particular formation, rather they were standing in a loose, staggered line. They were not soldiers, and it showed. 

"We jus' gonna wait?" Big Macintosh said.

Dylan turned to look down at the muscular farm-stallion. He had the same pitchfork that he had used to skewer the griffin in the barn. He leaned on it, working his shoulder gingerly and stretching his neck. He also wore a belt, on which hung a sharp cutting knife. On his back, hanging by a strap, was a crossbow, taken from the same griffon's mutilated corpse. The crossbow's quiver also hung on the belt he wore, containing around a dozen bolts. He looked like a warrior, despite the farming implement he was using as a walking stick. 

"No. I'll think of something... Wait... I've got one. Derpy, come here." 

The grey pegasus flew somewhat clumsily up to the tower, bumping it lightly. The structure creaked a tiny bit as the clumsy pony impacted gently with it. Dylan made a mental note not to give her any jobs that required a lot of coordination.

"Yes? What's up?" Derpy tried to smile, but she glanced nervously back towards the hostile force advancing towards the town.

"I need you to gather up as many unicorns as you can, then grab the biggest rocks, stones and boulders around. After that, get them to bring them up here, near these buildings." 

"Okay! You got it, mister!" 

"Alright. So what I'm thinking is-" 

"Hey, Dylan!" 

He turned to the new voice; It was Lyra. She appeared to be trying to hold up a large halberd unsuccessfully. She just wasn't strong enough to keep a good grip on the long, heavy polearm. A large helmet rested on the top of her head. The big piece of metal armor seemed to be much too large for her, and it tilted haphazardly on her head, moving around loosely. A large reinforced leather jack hung from her shoulders lazily, dropping down to her hips. She snapped one of her hooves up to the side of her head in an amateur salute.

"Guardspony Lyra reporting for duty, Sir!" 

Dylan couldn't help but smile at how ridiculous she looked. His grin faded as he brought his mind back to the task at hand.

Nice outfit...

"Alright, guardspony, I need yer' help with somethin'." 

"What is it, Sir?" 

"I need ya to take our best diggers out to the fields in their path..." Dylan pointed a finger at the griffon and diamond dog forces some miles away. "And I need you to dig the biggest trench ya can make." 

"Yes, Sir!" 

Lyra bounded off, her helmet bouncing around on the top of her head chaotically as she ran. 

"Rainbow Dash, I need ya to get as many pegasi as ya can to grab all the lumber ya can carry, then bring it to the carpenters. Tell em' to cut the wood down to a couple feet and make sure its pointed. Sharpen the shit out of it, y'hear?" 

"I'm on it, boss!" 

Rainbow Dash flew off, heading to the town's lumberyard. She darted in between houses and through alleyways expertly, narrowly avoiding a collision with the walls.

"Showoff..." Dylan muttered under his breath, shaking his head and grinning, looking down at the ground. 

"Mac, I need ya here helpin' with keepin' everyone organized. It'll do us no good to have a mob instead of a militia." Dylan scratched at his beard and adjusted his sword, keeping an eye on the distant threat.

"Eeyup." Big Mac responded in his usual laid-back, country style way. He leaned on his pitchfork, working his mouth thoughtfully. 

"This is gonna work. It fucking has to." 

***

A pair of coldly menacing eyes swept their gaze across the multitude below. The eyes belong to the scar-faced man. He was laying flat against the top of a high cliff, pressing against the rough shale to stay as low as possible. The other human with the long, unruly hair lay beside him. 

"Looks like someone's busy." The long-haired man said, squinting his eyes as he tried to make out more of what was going on down below.

"I tink' somevan' kicked hornets' nest..." The burly man said in his thick Russian accent. "but not hard enough." 

Griffons and diamond dogs; at least a hundred or more, all marching towards the town. The two humans could see them all, armored and armed heavily. They had more ways to kill than you could count on both hands (If you have them, that is.). 

"Heh. Poor bastards don't stand a chance against these guys..." 

The Californian's laugh was quiet, but it carried a callous and cruel energy with it. The young man's face also betrayed his mean spirit, showing a savage amusement. His eyes flashed of something evil. For a moment they became completely black, as if the pupil had grown to a massive size. His skin darkened slightly, becoming smooth and glossy. The man's smile was now made up of long, needle-like teeth, sharp as sin. "Ooooh, what I'd give to taste the blood!" He hissed through his teeth, his fingernails digging into the cliffside as he clenched his hands anxiously.

"Remember vat' we are here for. Ve' find where our 'friend' is, and ve' get him and us the fuck out of here. Нет времени для игр." The Russian scowled, deep in thought. He looked over at his comrade, taking note of his monstrous features. He was not unfamiliar with such changes in form; he had experienced them himself as well. 

The strange, tall, black-suited man's words echoed in his head:

'Now you will never suffer the power of traitors... Survive, for that is your purpose. It is your turn to make them feel the sting... the sting of Betrayal...'

The younger man remembered the man's words to him as well. 

'You will no longer feel pain, but rather, you shall make the world suffer for what it has done. Cruelty is the one gift you need not receive; only give.' 

"Stop it with the fucking gibberish already. I don't think having a little fun will hurt anything... well... actually, it will."

The younger of the two smiled again, this time running his black tongue over his needle-like teeth. He snickered darkly to himself and flexed his fingers, which were now tipped with sharp, bony claws. 

"If I remember right, he left me in charge, not you."

The American hissed at the Russian's comment, turning his head to stare at him with coal-black eyes. 

"We'll see who's in charge, you fucki-" 

"Either you listen to me, or I tell him you disobeyed his orders."

The American froze, staring at the Russian with an expression of horror. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again and looked back down at the advancing forces heading towards Ponyville. "I thought so," The Russian said as his comrade's appearance slowly returned to normal. He reached into his cloak and pulled out a cigarette, turning it over in his fingers. "Delicious death..." He bit down on it between his teeth and held it there. He knew how stupid lighting it would be, even in the early morning; it was still dark, and a light could be seen from a great distance away. He bit down on his cigarette, feeling the crunch of the paper in his teeth. He shifted slightly, causing his cloak to slip down from around his neck. 

The American looked at him from the corner of his eye, raising a quizzical eyebrow. He saw something which he didn't quite understand. On the Russian's neck was a tattoo of a six pointed star. Two of the star's points faced upwards, so that it almost looked in the shape of a pentagram, but without the circle and an extra point. 

"The hell is that?" 

The Russian turned and looked at him, shooting his comrade a look of apathy.

"What?" 

"The tattoo." 

The Russian looked at him as if the American had just said something completely stupid. 

"It's a tattoo..." 

The American growled in annoyance. With a clatter of stone, he slammed his fist down on the ground. 

"I got that part, jackass! What's it mean?" 

"Ah... Six years," The Russian said with an empty look in his eyes. 

"Six years of what?" 

The younger man looked at him with an increasingly agitated look. He couldn't have been more than sixteen years old, but the venom in his eyes added a few more to his appearance. The older man traced a fingernail down the scar on his face, scratching at his beard as he did so. 

"Six years prison." 

He seemed to reminisce, looking up into the early morning sky as he thought about his past. It was brutal, cold and unforgiving, much like the man himself.

"For what?" The American's eyebrow snaked upwards; he was obviously curious. 

"Well... Theft... Assault... Smuggling... Murder..." 

"Murder?" 

"None that I got caught for. Because instead of counting time until I get out, I'd be counting time until I am dead." 

"Shit. Well... Ever been in an asylum before?" The American winced slightly as memories of his own past were dredged up to the surface of his thoughts.

"... I've visited." 

The Russian simply continued to bite down on his cigarette, his mind focused on memories of his past.

"Ever lived in one?" The American said, tilting his head slightly as he began to smile. The insanity in his expression told his comrade all he needed to know.

"No." 

"Heh. A few years of constant drugs, 'therapy', corrective education and uh... 'positive enrichment' will kinda fuck with your brains more than what was wrong with them before. Got in there for torturing and killing some lowlife piece of shit. Sick bastards even tried to make me say I was sorry for torturing the son of a bitch to death." 

The American's grin almost took up his whole face. His eyes were widened in an unhinged gaze of malice, locked on an unseen target. 

"Did you?" 

"Fuck, no. He had it coming. Besides, I enjoyed watching him scream. It was fun. I can remember it like it was yesterday." 

He laughed like a madman, but tried to keep the noise down, seeing as dogs had very good hearing. The Russian shook his head and looked off the edge again. The thousand yard stare -most common to soldiers and war survivors- that he had spoke for him, but he put it into words anyway.

"Some things I don't want to remember." 

"Like what?"

"Starvation. Poverty. Being hunted. Seeing death, disease... nothing you see in your precious America."

"We've got that."

"Even your poorest vagrant has more money than most of the population where I live. Not to mention that you have enough doctors to care for your sick, your broken..." 

"They can just go die. I don't give a shit," the younger man said, scowling. 

"Most already have... Tell me, have you ever had to beat a man's skull open with a rusty pipe so he wouldn't murder you and steal the last of your hard-earned food?" 

"I-"

"No. You have not." 

"Hey, dickhead, I've probably gotten more ass in one year than you have in your entire life!" 

"... What does that have to do with smashing man's head open?" 

"... The fuck should I know?" 

The Russian sighed, shook his head and muttered, "Ебля американцев ..." 

"Cut that damn gibberish. Like you said, we've got something to do." 

"Yes, we do." 

The American pulled out a piece of dried meat jerky from his cloak and held it in both hands. He looked at it with eyes full of hunger; it was not a hunger for food.

"Let's break something." 

He snapped the jerky into two pieces with an evil smile on his face. He shoved both pieces into his mouth and began to chew slowly. 

"Agreed. I was getting tired of waiting." 

*** 

"Pitiful." 

The comment came from Rex; it was directed at the crude fortifications the Ponyvillites had constructed on the outside of the town. The large, well-built diamond dog could easily destroy the ramshackle buildings even without his massive double-headed axe. 

"They are, aren't they?" Rover replied, snickering between his teeth.

"Just remember what's hiding behind them," Bregan stated, remembering what kind of dangerous creature the town housed. He did not want a bunch of overconfident mongrels getting everyone killed. 

"What? The two-legged thing? I heard it was so fucking pale that you could blind yourself looking at it! Hahaha!"

Rex shook his head as he laughed, rolling his eyes simultaneously. He hefted his axe in his hands in anticipation.

"We'll see how dangerous it is when it's in two pieces."

"YOU FUCKING FOOL!" 

Rex jumped when he heard Tanning's roar of anger, leaping several inches off of the ground. He unsteadily landed and turned to look at the griffon captain who was now glaring at him. The contempt of Tanning's gaze made him flinch, backing away slightly.

"I WANT IT ALIVE!" 

Tanning's words were further emphasized by him shaking his giant stone fist in front of the cowering Taskmaster's face.

"Y-y-yes, uh..."

"Captain."

"Y-yes, Captain." 

Tanning turned from Rex, who looked like he had just seen a ghost (More likely he had almost been made one). He looked back at the town and growled, clenching his fists angrily. He towered over most of the diamond dog soldiers and stood a head taller than his own men. As they neared the town, Tanning grew more and more impatient, looking from building to building intently. His soldiers continued to march. They were now within two hundred yards of the town. The griffon captain finally had enough waiting and started to bellow an order. 

"I WANT THAT-"

Tanning stopped speaking when he noticed a blur of movement in the corner of his vision. He dropped to the ground as a sound like wind whistling through reeds filled the air. The whistling was quickly followed by muffled thumps and metallic ringing. One of the griffons beside Tanning let out a gargling scream as he clutched at the three foot long wooden shaft protruding from his throat. The wide arrowhead on the end of the shaft had sliced open the soldier's neck like a cut of fresh meat. He collapsed in a pool of his own blood and went limp, a mask of shock frozen on his wide-eyed face. Tanning watched a few others fall, most of them diamond dogs. He dragged himself up and raised his shield. With a crowing roar, he bellowed his next order. 

"SHIELDSSS! SHIELDSSS UP! KEEP YOUR FUCKING HEADSSS DOWN!"

Arrows continued to fall among the soldiers as they moved forward, most of them stopped by shields or the ground. Those that did hit their targets brought forth cries of pain from the diamond dogs, whilst only sharp breaths from the griffons. The wall of shields advanced steadily under the slow barrage of arrows. Tanning's archers responded with their own volley, but they were not certain where their enemies were shooting from. A scream came from the direction of the town, followed by a crashing noise, like wood splintering under something heavy. It seemed the griffons were not entirely unaware of their enemies positions. 

The advancing diamond dogs and griffons surged forth like a tide of claws and blades, moving towards  Ponyville with all the subtlety of a charging bull. The soldiers yelled battle cries, howled, roared and shouted, all of them filled with savage, violent intent. They were now within a hundred feet of the walls around the edge of the town. They could hear the sounds of the pony forces moving around on the other side, shouting their own orders. The tramping of the invaders' feet, the clattering of their armor and the rustle of their cloaks was loud enough to be heard from hundreds of feet away. Above all the sound, a new voice rose up, low and guttural. It sounded like the voice came from deep inside it's owner's chest, like a clap of thunder. It seemed to shake the advancing diamond dogs, making them quake with fear. 

"COME ON, YOU MONGRELS! I'LL SPILL YOUR BLOOD LIKE THE BEASTS YOU ARE!" 

The diamond dogs felt anger at these words. They thrashed and snapped their jaws, moving ahead of the griffons. They were mad for blood, like the rabid dogs they were. The source of the voice made itself clear. A six-and-a-half foot human wearing a bloodstained and shredded coat stood up on top of the wall. The bow in his hands creaked as he raised it and pulled back the string. He looked down the arrow at his target with a sharp-toothed grin; the grin was of psychotic rage, not jovial amusement. 

With a slight movement of his finger, he released his grip on the string. The bow made a resounding twang as it sped its missile forwards. The broad headed tip of the arrow slammed through the breastbone of one of the advancing diamond dogs. The crunch of metal punching through bone made the human smile. 

Other figures rose from their hiding places to loose their own arrows into the charging dogs. More of them fell. Those not killed outright by the barrage or the slow, aching death of blood loss were crushed under the feet of their comrades. The griffons behind them opened fire on the ponies on the rooftops, in windows, up high on towers or behind walls. Most of the arrows missed, but the griffon arrows proved no less deadly than those of their opponents. One unfortunate pegasus took an arrow straight through his eye. The narrow point of the projectile jutted out the back of his skull like a macabre piercing. He tumbled off his position on a roof and landed limply on the cobblestone street with a sound similar to an eggshell cracking. 

"Charge! Get that one, the Captain wants him!" Rover spat, pointing with his one hand that wasn't holding his glaive. 

The dogs rushed forwards, brandishing their spears and blades in the early morning sun. The beautiful sunrise did nothing to lessen the savage ugliness of the carnage. Battle had a nasty habit of turning beauty to horror, and this time was no different. 

"HALT! REGROUP!" 

Tanning's command came too late; the dogs were in a frenzy. They didn't care about the griffon's orders any more. They would tear the human apart if they could get at him. Bloodlust was not something that they alone possessed; The human appeared to be snarling furiously at the charging dogs as he loosed more arrows at the line of shields. 

"Come on, you curs! We'll gnaw on their bones before the sun's finished rising! Fifty pieces for the one who brings me that thing's head!"

Rex hefted his axe as he followed behind his men, laughing. His statement seemed to make his dogs even more eager, spurring them on like whipped cattle.

"For the pa-" 

Rex was cut off by a chorus of screams as the frontmost of his soldiers suddenly disappeared. A number of sickening, wet thumping noises followed the sudden disappearance of the front line. His soldiers in front yelped as they tried to skid to a stop, but their blood crazed fellows behind them pushed them forwards. The whole mass shouted and yelled, trying to stop their forward motion unsuccessfully. More dogs tumbled forwards into the danger ahead, pushed in towards their deaths by their own senselessness. 

Rex stared down at the twisted, bloody corpses of at least two dozen of his dogs. He stood precariously close to the edge of a deep trench dug into the ground. It was at least six feet deep and stretched across the whole of the field. On the bottom of the trench was a carpet of loose grass and hastily cut blankets and sheets. It was filled with crudely sharpened wooden spikes, which were currently drowning in diamond dog blood. 

The defenders of Ponyville were lucky that their enemies hadn't come down one of the many roads leading into the town. Instead, they had come across one of the hilly fields, which had let the ponies prepare a trap under Dylan's supervision. He had predicted the mindless aggression of the dogs, thanks to information given to him by the ponies. 

"SSSTOP! FUCKING IDIOTS, YOU'VE RUN RIGHT INTO A TRAP! DOGS, DO WHAT YOUR FOUL BREED DOES BEST; DIG!"

The dogs -still shaken from watching their comrades be impaled- seemed as if they hadn't heard the order, but a snarl from Rex snapped them out of it. If there was one thing Rex -and the dogs- feared more than the enemy ahead, it was Tanning.

"You heard him! Shields up front, cover the diggers! We're going under!"  

Those of the dogs that had shields stood close to the edge of the pit with their shields raised. Arrows from the town's defenders continued to hail upon Rover's line. The clatter of the arrows impacting into the wooden and iron-shod shields masked the sound of canine claws scratching against the earth. Behind their comrades, the dogs began to exercise their natural talent for excavation. They hauled up pawfuls of soil at a breakneck pace, flinging it up out of their rapidly-expanding tunnel. 

Rover stood behind his bodyguards. Their shields were larger and taller than the common soldiers, all the better to shield their Alpha from harm. A few of the dogs in the rear fired crossbows, taking quick shots from behind the shields of their fellows. 

"We're taking a pounding out here! Dig faster!" 

As if in answer to Rover, an arrow bounced off the top of his plumed helmet, skittering off it and completing its trajectory straight into the ground. With wide eyes he saw where it had come from; the animal grin on the face of the two-legged creature standing on the wall made it deadly clear. 

"Shoot that thing! Shoot it!" 

Rover frantically pointed at the human. Seconds later a number of crossbow bolts thudded into the wood right next to the creature. Many of them would have hit it, but it saw them coming. It ducked fluidly out of the way, disappearing among the fortifications.

The griffons moved as a cohesive unit, each one covering the one beside them. Their advance was disciplined, tactical and coordinated, whereas the diamond dogs rushed blindly, rushing ahead without regard for any sort of tactic. 

"What in the name of the godsss are those foolsss doing?! I WANT IT ALIVE!" 

Tanning hissed under his breath at the foolishness of the dogs and their commanders. The griffon warlord knew that no simple pony village had the mindset to set this kind of trap, much less have the intelligence to bait and taunt their opponents straight into it. Rover barely had time to open his mouth before Tanning's fist slammed into the front of his snout. He felt a few of his teeth crack under the blow, causing him to whimper in pain. His guards turned and snarled, raising their weapons to strike. The large wolf-dog with his two rapiers looked incredibly calm, seeing as he hadn't drawn his two rapiers, even after Tanning struck Rover. 

"IT KNOWSSS WHERE MY SSSISSTER ISSS! IF YOU OR YOUR FUCKING MONGRELSSS KILL IT, I'LL SSSTRING YOU UP BY YOUR GUTSSS! CALL OFF YOUR DOGS, OR I WILL PUT THEM DOWN!" 

Rover's bodyguards and Tanning's elite vanguard troops would have begun mercilessly slaughtering one another, but an arrow slamming into Tanning's shield broke them from their fury. 

"Remember who we're fighting." 

Bregan seemed to be the voice of reason. The cold calmness of the old warrior seemed to stay the two groups from putting each other to the sword, at least for the moment. 

"Y-... What are we still standing here for? We should be getting out of this damn-" 

Rover didn't have time to finish; he watched as the whole of Tanning's infantry leapt and flew over the spike-filled trench without hesitation. The griffon warriors moved towards the town with their shields high, deflecting the storm of arrows from the rooftops. The dogs were still digging their tunnel underneath the trench as the griffons piled in towards the wall. 

***

Dylan took one final shot at the advancing griffons before he jumped down off the wall. The other ponies with bows who were on top of the wall followed his example, dropping down to help defend from the charging griffon warriors. 

The griffons began hacking and chopping at the wall, furiously trying to bring it down so that they could get at the defenders on the other side. A large axe head smashed a six-inch wide hole in the barricade, revealing the armored warrior behind it. He raised his axe to chop again, but stopped mid-motion when Dylan sent an arrow hurtling through his breastplate. The griffon drunkenly stumbled into the wall with an angry groan. He hauled himself upwards off the wall and brought his axe down on the wall again before another arrow through the chest put him down for good. 

The wall wouldn't hold for much longer; the amount of griffons actively trying to smash it to pieces mad that obvious. One of the ponies behind the wall tried to stab the attackers with his spear, but a griffon caught it and pulled him towards the wall. The shocked look on the townspony's face remained after the griffon drove his dagger into his throat. 

Dylan turned to see Lyra bring her halberd crashing down on the helmet of a griffon trying to jump over the wall. He tumbled over the top of the barricade and tried to bring his shield up to block her next blow, but a swift kick from the mare knocked him backwards. She slammed the haft of her weapon sideways into the oncoming blade of the griffon, which had been on an arc that would have gutted her like a pig if she hadn't stopped it. The griffon spun and tried to smash his shield's edge into Lyra's temple, but she was too quick; she ducked underneath the strike and rammed her halberd's spearpoint through the griffon's chest. His mouth opened to scream, but Lyra wasn't done; she shoulder-checked the stunned warrior backwards, who stumbled back against the wall. Before he could raise his shield, she stabbed him two more times, each time letting out a furious yell. 

Lyra killing the griffon had only taken a few seconds; by the time she had killed him, more of the griffons had either got over the wall or were in the process of smashing through it. A pair of them headed straight for Dylan, but he didn't give them time to make the first move; with a fluid motion, he drew an arrow from his quiver, nocked it and drew back his bow. He released the string and watched as the arrow passed right through the eyeslit of the griffon's helmet. His comrade barely even glanced at his deceased comrade. Instead, he ran straight at Dylan, a giant warhammer raised above his head. 

"Shit!"

Dylan barely had time to swear before the griffon was upon him. The griffon swung his hammer in an overhead swing in an attempt to bludgeon his human opponent in the face. With a slight reluctance, Dylan brought up his bow to block the swing. With a sharp crack, the hammer blow split the bow in two. The griffon tried to swing again, but to his surprise, his weapon became caught; instinctively, Dylan had twisted and wrapped the bowstring around the hammer's haft and turned his arms. With a confused grunt, the bludgeon was pulled from the griffon warrior's hands. The startled half-lion half-eagle barely had time to duck behind his shield before Dylan slammed his newly acquired hammer into it. The resounding noise of the blow rung in the warrior's ears, and within the space of a second, another blow hit his shield with bonecrushing force. The warrior drew his dagger from his belt and lunged. Dylan used his backswing to knock his attacker off balance, sending the griffon's knife thrust to the side and away from him. Before the griffon could stab at him again, Dylan swung his hammer like a baseball bat; he had been one of the best hitters on his baseball team when he was younger, and the motion came as easy as breathing. With a ring of metal on metal, Dylan smashed the side of his enemy's helm inwards with such force that the griffon's neck broke, his head spinning sideways under the force of the blow. 

He saw movement in the corner of his eye; it was heading straight for him. It was a large diamond dog brandishing a two-handed bardiche. The broad, wide axe-blade of the weapon gleaned in the early morning sun, as did the bared teeth of the canine. The dog wore a leather hood with holes cut for his eyes. The smile of malice on his face grew wider as he swung his weapon towards Dylan. He knew he would be too late to block the blow, but he tried anyway; he raised his hammer in an attempt to bat away the strike, his muscles tensing for the inevitable feeling of metal chopping through flesh and bone. It never came; the dog seemed to freeze in place, but his hands limply opened, dropping his weapon to the ground. The wet crunch that came before the dog's sudden halt gave some clue as to why he stopped. The thickly built canine's eyes rolled backwards into his head as he pitched forwards face first into the dirt. 
Dylan glanced at the crossbow bolt lodged in the top of his fallen enemy's skull, slightly in shock. 

"That's for the last time, you filth," Rarity's voice said from a second-story window, full of contempt and victory. The crossbow she held perched on the windowsill was unloaded for obvious reasons. "And I've got more where that came from!" 

Dylan couldn't help but smile, even though he had not been on the greatest terms with Rarity before the battle. He hadn't forgiven her for the slight against him concerning his parents, but he had her back all the same; it was obvious she had his. 
There was little time for amusement, however, as the griffons and diamond dogs were clearly overwhelming the ponies at the wall. Many lay bloody and lifeless on the ground already; more died by the second.

"Fall back! Fall back!"

Dylan's deep-throated yells were obviously heard; the ponies began moving backwards as fast as they could, still keeping their eyes on the enemy. Lyra split the face of a diamond dog open with her halberd's blade before turning and following her comrades. The invaders tried to pursue as fast as they could, but they learned quickly that if they didn't keep their shields up and cover all angles, they would take an arrow to somewhere important very easily. 

Dylan snatched up the shield from the griffon whose head he had turned into a shape resembling something out of one of Picasso's paintings. He raised it just in time to stop a griffon trying to lop his head from his shoulders. The griffon swung again, striking the edge of the shield with his blade. With a low grunt, Dylan leaned backwards, swung his leg sideways, and turned. The powerful kick slammed into the back of the griffon's knees, tripping him and slamming him backwards into the ground. Dylan whirled, using his momentum to spin full-circle, slamming his hammer down on the griffon's helmet. The force of the blow caved the whole of the warrior's face inwards, collapsing his beak like it was made of glass. 

***

Rex watched as the ponies retreated deeper into the town, scurrying into alleyways and inside buildings. The large diamond dog growled under his breath as he watched them. He wiped the blade of his axe, which was slick with blood; it was obviously a pony's. The taskmaster seemed to have gained a few fresh cuts in his ragged bear hide cloak. The armor underneath was dented and damaged, scarred by a few strikes that had managed to slip past his guard. 

"Cowards... Look at em', hiding and running like rats." 

***

Dozens of dead eyes all watched the carnage and slaughter with hunger burning in their gaze. The griffons and dogs moved through the streets like predators, pursuing their equine prey... but they weren't the only players in this game of blood. Four living eyes watched as well, tracing the movements of the warriors with grim anticipation. 

The majority of the invaders pushed far into the town, taking as much ground as possible; only a few stayed behind to make sure they were not flanked from behind. The few warriors that remained at the edge of the town held their weapons tightly; paranoia wasn't always a disadvantage, especially in war; it could meant the difference between life and a grisly, bloody death. 

Mostly dogs had been left behind; the commanders had seen how little discipline they had before, and expecting them not to run at the ponies like rabid mongrels hungry for blood was foolish to say the least. A few griffons stood guard among the dogs, but they didn't look too pleased to be there. 

The sound of glass breaking filled the silent air with sharp, sudden sound. All of the warriors spun to the noise, poising their weapons to strike. Slowly and cautiously, a pair of the diamond dogs walked towards the sound, nudged along by their comrades. The one in front kept his spear far ahead of him, wary of anything coming close. His comrade grasped his sword tightly, holding his shield out to ward off harm. The two of them crept towards one of the typical-looking houses that filled the streets of the town; they had heard the sound come from there. 

"See anything?" The dog with the sword whispered, glancing over the edge of his shield at his comrade, who was currently leaning through the open doorway of the house.

"Not really... It looks empty... Wait..." 

The dog poked at something with his spear. The object sat in a pile of glass, which had obviously just been knocked out of a nearby window; the jagged hole in the glass made that very clear.

"Wait? What do you mean, wait?" The dog with the sword's nervous tone told his comrade he was not very happy about him finding something. He walked inside and looked around warily.

"Uh... It's... A rock... with a piece of paper tied around it."

"Read it!"

The spear-dog opened up the piece of paper that was crumpled around the rock, and proceeded to stare in horror at its message.

"What's it say?!" 

" Oh... oh gods... 'Let's play a game'..." 

The message was messily written in blood. The entire page was spattered with it, as if a psychotic artist had taken a knife to his throat and decided to paint his masterpiece with droplets of his own blood. Before he could begin running, the spear-dog heard a scream from behind him. He spun, his terrified eyes searching for the other dog. The space where his comrade had been standing was empty. His sensitive hearing picked up what sounded like water dripping. What pooled on the floor wasn't water. Half frozen in fear, the spear-dog looked up. The mangled corpse of the other dog hung there limply with its jaw open. The mask of horror on its face made him back away in fear. 

(Power of Darkness- Two Steps From Hell.)

The dead body wasn't the most terrifying thing that the dog saw; a terrifying black monstrosity seemed to hang from the roof, grasping the corpse with one hand while the other held the blade that was thrust through its ribcage. The creature was covered in a chitinous carapace, from which long pointed spines seemed to extend like daggers. It had six limbs; two legs, each ending in a three-toed foot, two arms which had hands with knifelike blades for fingers, and a pair of long skeletal spars which it was currently using to hold itself up on the ceiling. It had eight coal-black eyes, all of them full of malefic desire. It's head was covered in a hardened shell, which curved and flared off to trace along the sides of two mandibles, each tipped with serrated teeth, perfect for ripping flesh with ease. The mouth of the creature was filled with double-rows of razor-sharp fangs. The smile of pure malice on the thing's face widened as it tossed the body aside and leapt from its perch. 

The creature launched itself from the ceiling like a bullet. The dog tried to bring up his spear, but it was too late; It slammed into the screaming diamond dog with its feet, pinning him to the ground. With a morbid screech, it plunged its bone spars into the chest cavity of its prey. He screamed, blood gurgling from his wide-open mouth. He convulsed for a second and slumped to the floor and lay motionless. 

Outside, the griffons and diamond dogs were in complete shock; they had come to fight ponies and some other creature, but nothing like the monstrosity that dashed out of the front door of the house where the two dogs had just entered. The thing still had the body of one of the dogs skewered on the two appendages on its back. It moved from side to side erratically, moving in a fluid and unnatural manner. The griffons loosed their bows at the thing, while the diamond dogs sent a few crossbow bolts hurtling towards it. None of the projectiles hit the creature; they were either evaded by it or turned the corpse it was holding into a pincushion. 

The few shaken diamond dogs in front tried to form a disorganized shield wall. They huddled together and braced for the oncoming impact. The oncoming predator threw the diamond dog body over its head like a ragdoll, which slammed against the shields with a wet thump. The soldiers stumbled back slightly, shouting desperately as they saw their enemy spring upwards into the air. It came down right over their shields, slicing with the blade in its clawed hand. Its fluid swing cut a ragged gash through one of the dogs' necks, spraying dark red onto the grey cobbled stones of the street. One of the soldiers tried to smash its skull in with a spiked club, but the creature moved out of the way of the swing with unnerving fluidity. 

The griffons moved forward to try and attack while their opponent was still occupied, screaming battle cries in their native tongue. They passed by their smaller canine allies, who were cringing back slightly from the thing starting to slaughter through their packmates. It thrust the tip of its bone spar through a dog's open mouth, punching straight through the back of its head. Cranial matter spilled from the out of the gaping hole in the back of the deceased diamond dog's head. 

Just as the griffons reached the thing, a vile noise filled the air. It was a sickly, terrifying and deafening sound; the chittering and screeching of hundreds of rats. A sea of rotting flesh seemed to writhe from between the buildings and stream out towards the street. Hundreds of dead, broken, decomposing vermin swarmed towards the living flesh currently standing in the middle of the courtyard. The clicking of teeth and claws and the screeches of the rats seemed to drown out every other sound. Like an undead ocean of teeth, they began to rip and tear, gnawing flesh from bone with ease. They practically burrowed into the first griffon, finding holes in his armor and chewing bloody, visceral chunks out of the unfortunate warrior. 

As the first griffon was dragged down, screaming and thrashing as he was eaten alive by innumerable tiny mouths, a deafening roar resounded through the street. An enormous form smashed through the boarded up front of a shop, scattering timbers and boards like they weighed next to nothing. 

The thing that had just exploded onto the street began barreling towards the soldiers on the street, swinging its massively powerful arms as it ran. The rippling muscles of the creature were on full display; skin and flesh hung off of its body, as if the very meat on its bones would slough off at any moment; in fact, pieces dropped off of it as it moved. It looked completely dead, and it was death that it craved. The head of the thing had a long snout full of curved teeth and ragged strips of flesh. Its face was a rat's with dead grey eyes. What looked like jagged blades and plates of skeletal matter jutted from the surface of the thing's skin; they were viciously sharp, slicing through the first griffon in its path with frightful ease. The griffon's torn open abdomen disgorged its insides all over the ground as it fell. 

One of the diamond dogs swung his blade in an overhanded swing, which connected perfectly right where the rat-thing's heart should have been. His blade tore a massive gash through the flesh of the thing's chest, sending chunks of rotten flesh splattering to the stones of the street. Before the dog could shout a cry of victory, a crooked blade of bone burst from between the monster's knuckles. The dog tried to desperately block the aberration's attack but it was too late; the gruesome blade chopped the dog's head messily off his shoulders. The decapitated dog head landed at the feet of a griffon, who kicked it away with an angry screech and charged. 

The six-limbed monstrosity eviscerated a diamond dog who had been trying to reload his crossbow. His comrade tried to stab at it with his spear, but the lunge missed it entirely; the creature leaped into the air and somersaulted over the spearhead being thrust at its chest. It buried it's blade deep into the belly of the dog, then twisted it and let out a cacophony of clicking laughter, watching as its prey died before its eyes. It spun, parrying a blow from one of the griffons. Another strike bounced off the blade clutched between the monster's claws, narrowly missing its vulnerable neck. The warrior in question let out a war cry as he swung again, aiming to split the abomination into two bloody pieces. The blow whistled over the thing's head, putting the griffon off balance. He stumbled forward, right into the two blade-limbs of the creature. With a bloodcurdling scream, the griffon died as two massive points were rammed through his chest. 

The rat-thing and it's swarm of undead vermin continued to push forward. The tide of flesh-eating killing machines made short work of the diamond dogs; the soldiers killed a few rats, but there were just too many for them to have any effect. The charging griffon raised the long axe he was carrying, swinging it around to try and split the rat-thing's skull like an overripe melon. The whole of his body turned with the blow, putting deadly force behind the iron axe head. The thing raised its bone weapons to try and stop the blow. The head cracked the brittle bones jutting out of the aberration easily, sending them clattering to the ground like the knuckle-bones of a seer. 

The roar of the griffon as he swung his axe in an overhand swing was deafening. The axe slammed into something hard, bouncing off harmlessly with a hollow thudding noise. The rat-thing had brought up its arm to stop the axe's descent, halting the attack with thick skeletal plates which seemed to twist and writhe out of the decaying flesh of the creature. The warrior renewed his assault, chopping again and again; each time the strike was blocked by the armor-like plates of his enemy. The griffon watched as the giant ratlike beast rose up and opened its jaws wide. With a sound that was half roar and half gurgle, the creature released a noxious bile from deep within its throat. The toxic liquid hissed as it came into contact with the griffon's skin, burning and eating away at the exposed flesh. The warrior's cry of pain was cut short as a giant, spiked fist slammed into his chest, sending him flying backwards into a building. 

The warrior tried to stand, hauling himself up as fast as he could. He saw his axe lying on the ground at least a dozen feet away. He reached down and drew the sword he carried at his belt. He could barely admire the metallic rasp of the sword being drawn; the amount of pain coursing through his body and the disease spreading through his blood made it very hard to think. He lowered his head and looked from under the lids of his eyes at the rat thing; it was charging straight for him. He was mid-swing when the bone-mailed claws of the beast ripped him in half. 

***

Rex and Bregan led the advance of the invading forces through the streets. Arrows rained down upon the formation from their various hiding spots, striking the shields of the warriors. The ponies had fled back into the alleys and buildings of the town, vanishing from sight. There was an occasional glimpse of something moving quickly between buildings, faster than any of the soldiers could track. 

"Where the hell are they hiding?" Rex said, tightening his grip on his axe's haft. He bared his teeth and glanced ahead, looking between the thatched-roof buildings for any sign of his enemies.

Bregan swept his keen gaze across the path ahead, searching for something. He had a bizarre feeling; the kind you get when you know you're being watched. The veteran griffon soldier that he was told him something wasn't right. As if to affirm his assumptions, a bone-chilling noise seemed to rise up from behind them in the distance; a screeching cry like that of which Bregan had never heard, followed by screams of both griffon and diamond dog. A grotesque, growling roar split the air next, along with battle cries. 

"What in damn-" Rex started to speak, but another bloodcurdling cry silenced him. The sound died as quickly as it began, leaving both Tanning's and Rover's forces in stunned silence.

"Godsss above..." Tanning hissed, turning to where the sound had come from. He scowled, knowing that his rear guard was now most likely nothing but bloody corpses.

"What was that?!" 

Rover's nervous shout was regarded with a calm and indifferent gaze from his personal bodyguard. Rover gripped his glaive tightly, glancing from place to place anxiously. His honor guards surrounded him, vigilantly watching for any threat to their Alpha. The tall wolf-dog slowly flourished his rapiers in graceful arcs around him, ready for anything that might come. Rex lowered his head and rolled his shoulders, lifting up his axe. Bregan planted his clawed back feet firmly on the ground, starting to whirl the morningstar's head, preparing the momentum for a blow that would crush bone and splatter flesh. Tanning slammed the pommel of his falchion against his shield repeatedly, making a spectacular show of sound. He lifted his head high and screamed a curse in griffon at the top of his lungs. Every last one anticipated for whatever had killed the rear guard to come rampaging down the street to tear them limb from limb...

"NOW! CRUSH THE BASTARDS!" 

What they did not expect was hundreds of pounds of rock to come crashing down on them. 

***

Twilight had been sitting on the roof of one of Ponyville's many houses for what seemed like ages. Along with Rainbow Dash and Ditzy Doo, they had hauled as much rock as they could up onto the rooftops and secured it with nets, further tying those to the roof with rope. The idea was that when the rope was cut, the net would spill its contents onto the street below. 

While they were laying flat on the roof, a strange question seemed to pop into Twilight's mind, but at the same time, it was also a very reasonable one.

"Hey, Dash?"

The rainbow-named pegasus turned her head to look at Twilight with weary eyes; moving the stone onto the roof had not been an easy task, despite the help of the unicorns' magic. 

"What is it, Twilight?" 

Twilight bit down on her lip slightly and looked down at the rock-laden nets, giving them a gingerly tug to make sure they were still secured to the roof. She raised a hoof upwards sheepishly, running it down her neck before she spoke again.

"Is it just me... or... has Dylan... been acting a little strange?"

Rainbow Dash's eyes widened and she seemed to scowl for a split second, anger flashing across her face. She definitely wanted to hear what Twilight had to say, but she wasn't very happy with where this was going.

"What do you mean, 'strange'?" 

Twilight swallowed, trying to distract herself from the venomous look on Rainbow Dash's face. She clutched at the weapon she had been given, more willing to look at it than her friend, who she was sure she had just said something very unwise to. The weapon was a repurposed sickle, normally used for harvesting grain. It was far from a sword, but it could cut down more than stalks of wheat; it could sever a head if it was used well enough, provided it was kept sharp.

"I... I mean... Dylan... doesn't he seem to be a little more... evasive than usual?" 

"What? I just met him, and he seems... okay, I guess," Ditzy Doo said, shifting on her perch.

"What? If anything, he's been more open! Remember what happened between him and Rarity?"

"Oh... Yeah, I heard about that... I... I still think he may be hiding something."

"Yeah? He was. Having your mother killed by your father and then being forced to kill him is probably not something anypony is very open about!"

Twilight cringed. Maybe she was wrong; maybe Dylan wasn't hiding anything. She felt like she had just broken a bond of trust, and that was not something one should do lightly. 

"I didn't mean to- I guess you're right... But I still think-"

Rainbow Dash leaned close to her unicorn friend, putting her face inches from Twilight's own. She looked deep into her eyes, locking her in a powerful gaze. The protective nature of Rainbow Dash rose to the surface of her psyche, reacting to what she was feeling: Love.

At first, she didn't know why she loved the human, who just days ago had punched her in the face, wrestled with her in the dirt and called her names. She didn't know why she felt a longing deep inside;  an alien attraction for him that pulsed through her veins like wildfire. But then, in an instant, she did: He had protected her, even after all that had happened, and even after she had pried into his past and almost started another fight. He had cared for her even though he didn't know her. He had fought for her when no one else would. Rainbow Dash had stood up to those same bullies many times before, but every time was in defense of Fluttershy; not once had she stood up for herself when they insulted her, teased her and mocked her. Inside her thick outer shell of confidence was the real Rainbow Dash; She was shy, insecure and constantly reminded of her lack of self-respect. Dylan reminded her of herself. She had never felt this way about any stallion before, much less any mare. Despite some ponies spreading rumors, she was not attracted to mares; she was just too shy to try and start a relationship.

All of these thoughts seemed to coalesce into a murky, cloudy mass of feelings and ideas; Dash's mind turned back to focus on the current situation. 

"No. Twilight, everypony has secrets... things they don't want anypony to know. I think you know that better than anyone. I have my own too, but that doesn't mean you can just go poking around looking for them. What kind of a friend are you for thinking about Dylan like that? He saved you, remember?" 

Twilight bit down on her lip once again, trying averting her gaze from Rainbow Dash's piercing grapefruit-colored eyes.She felt guilty now, and it showed in her face. Rainbow Dash was right; what kind of a friend was she to question Dylan after all he had done for her and her friends. 

"I'm... I'm sorry. I didn't mean it, Dash."

Ditzy Doo took her chance to speak, trying to disarm the argument. 

"I think she's sorry, Rainbow Dash. She wasn't trying to upset you." 

Rainbow Dash's angry expression softened a little into one of disappointment. She leaned back away from Twilight, adjusting herself back into a comfortable position on the thatched roof. 

"I hope so. Now, we should be watching for-"

Twilight started suddenly, startling Rainbow Dash. The lavender unicorn ducked back behind the edge of the roof and pulled Dash back by the scruff of her mane.

"Ow! What was that f-"

"Shhhh..." Twilight whispered, holding a hoof up to her lips. After silencing Rainbow Dash, she pointed towards the outskirts of town.

"What?" 

Rainbow Dash now whispered as well, looking at Twilight with a curious gaze. 

"What is it?"

"It's Them," Both Ditzy Doo and Rainbow Dash tensed, their wings unfolding as if they were getting ready to take flight at any moment. "Wait until we get the signal. Everypony else is ready, we should be too." 

Rainbow Dash nodded, pulling her short sword from it's scabbard as quietly as possible, inching the blade out of the sheath as slowly as possible. Ditzy slipped a hoof between the loop of cord on the handle of her club. She padded its iron-banded length in her other hoof, holding it with a slight tremble in her limbs. "Okay..." Ditzy said, taking a deep breath to calm herself. Rainbow dash, on the other hand, was excited. She craved nothing more than to get even for what the griffons had done to Applejack and the Apple family. She couldn't wait to run her blade through a griffon heart. 

The mass of griffons and diamond dogs below filled the entire street. The growls and squawks of the soldiers below made the three ponies increasingly more tense. As they were getting ready to release the nets, a high-pitched keening screech seemed to rip itself into existence. The screech was followed by a thunderous, heart-stopping roar. The screams of griffon and diamond dog alike came from the direction the invaders had entered the street from. All three ponies froze in fear, the hair on their necks bristling. They had never heard anything so terrifying before in their lives. Even the roar of an Ursa Minor or a dragon didn't compare to the morbid and eldritch cries that split the air. The noise seemed to put the soldiers below on full alert; thankfully they were facing the direction that the sounds had come from and not the rooftops. Yelling rose up from the soldiers below, masking the noise of the Twilight Sparkle, Ditzy Doo and Rainbow Dash as they readied to release the nets and send their deadly cargo crashing down on the enemy below. 

Ditzy Doo pulled a dagger to begin cutting the rope. She looked at it in anticipation as she waited for the signal along with her two comrades. Twilight and Rainbow Dash both had their blades ready as well, poised to drop hundreds of pounds of stone on their foes some thirty feet below. 

A deep, throaty bellow, full of anger and bloodlust exploded loudly into existence.

"NOW! CRUSH THE BASTARDS!" 

All three of the ponies began cutting at the ties holding the nets simultaneously, slicing away at the cords binding the whole mass of rope and stone to the roof. The sound of hundreds of stones clattering together and rolling off the side of the building did not block out the sound of a shrill female scream. Twilight and Rainbow Dash turned in horror to watch as Ditzy Doo's hoof was snagged by a coil of wayward rope, dragging her shrieking and flailing over the roof's edge. 

"Heeeeel-"

Ditzy's cry was cut short when a brittle snapping sound was heard from below the roof's edge. Ditzy's screams ceased as the sound of bones being crushed like twigs and stone slamming down on metal filled the air. Screams from the enemy below filled the air; some of which ended in the sound of wet cracks and gruesome splattering.

(Together We Stand, Divided We Fall- Two Steps From Hell.) 

"GIVE EM' HELL!" 

*** 

Dylan charged, leading the attack. The sound of hundreds of hooves striking the cobblestone street filled the air as the ponies followed him. Lyra, Big Macintosh and a bluish-black coated pony in full armor followed him. The hate burning in each and every last one of Dylan's heartbeats pushed him on, igniting the fire of violence lurking in his soul. He opened his mouth wide to roar a battle cry, baring his teeth at the enemy. A few more steps and the two lines clashed, exchanging brutal blows. Dylan's hammer caved in the skull of one diamond dog before he stopped a blow from a griffon's axe. With a low snarl, Dylan slammed his shield into the warrior, who slammed his own shield back against him. Digging his heels in, Dylan lifted up and under, throwing the startled griffon backwards. The warrior landed on his back and tried to cover himself, but the amount of force in Dylan's downwards hammer strike crumpled his shield like it was made of tin foil; the body underneath shattered, spelling only death for the warrior. 

From atop a rooftop, Rarity crouched and looked down with a squinted eye, directly down a crossbow bolt. She pulled the weapon's crude trigger, sending the projectile slamming through some pitiful diamond dog's sternum. She quickly used her magic to float another quarrel up to her crossbow, then pulled the string back and locked it into place. As soon as she had finished doing this, a pair of arrows slammed pointfirst into the roof a few inches from her face. She shouted a rather unladylike curse as she fired again, piercing a griffon's abdomen with the bolt this time.

Lyra deflected a thrust from a sword with the haft of her halberd, then quickly spun her weapon back in the direction she had swung it from. The axe-head of the halberd split the owner of the sword's collarbone into a number of shattered pieces. The griffon screamed, kicking out a clawed foot towards her throat. Lyra sidestepped, watching as the kick sailed past her head. The wounded warrior tried to swing his sword again, but the blow was slow and weak. He squawked in pain, trying to cover his body with his shield. He sat behind it, confident of his security. He was right to be sure about his torso's safety, but that was not Lyra's current target. She raised the blade of her halberd and brought it down in a vertical chop, just as if she were splitting a log. Unsurprisingly, the griffon blocked the blow with his shield. He didn't block what came next. The downwards chop was just a distraction; the real attack came from below. Lyra thrust her halberd between the griffon's legs and slammed it upwards. He screamed in agony as she pulled him to the ground with the spike on the back of the halberd. He tried to make one last thrust with his sword, but a sharp stab through the eyeslit of his helmet finished him for good. 

Lyra didn't see the other griffon about to smash her brains out with a mace, but Big Macintosh did. He slammed the points of his pitchfork right through the warrior's throat. A few seconds of bleeding later and he was dead. The heavyset workpony pulled his weapon clear of the corpse and spun the tines of the fork, preparing for his next strike. He watched as a unicorn's head was lopped off by a very large diamond dog wearing a bearhide cloak and carrying a double-headed axe. The dog parried a spear thrust from another pony that attacked him, then swept his axe wildly to the side, burying one of the heads deep in the pony's chest. Big Macintosh narrowed his eyes and clenched his teeth in angry scowl. He ran at the dog with the axe, stabbing another diamond dog that tried to intercept him on his way to his target.

Dylan was in the middle of painting a diamond dog's face with his comrade's brains when he heard a low-pained voice.

"H-help..." 

He turned and saw Ditzy Doo, whose leg was pinned under a large boulder. It appeared she had slammed into a sign on the side of a building, which probably saved her from the original hail of massive rocks. He watched as Rainbow Dash leapt off of the roof and made a fine mess of a hairless diamond dog's face with her blade. The strike swept clean through the side of his jaw and up into his eye socket, killing him instantly. A bolt of purple energy crackled past Rainbow Dash like a bolt of lightning, frying a griffon who had been about to send and arrow hurtling through the pegasus' torso. The warrior's armor crumpled and melted, and his skin flaked off in thick black chunks. The corpse was unrecognizable, thanks to Twilight's power. The unicorn vanished for a split second in a flash of purplish light, then reappeared on the ground next to Rainbow Dash. The two tried desperately to get to their fallen comrade, but a line of enemy warriors kept them back. If Twilight teleported behind them to get to her, Rainbow Dash would surely be overwhelmed and killed. 

"H-he... Help..." Ditzy Doo groaned, trying to pull herself out from under the rock. 

Dylan advanced, trying to weave through the massive melee to get to the downed pegasus. A griffon in decorated armor stepped in front of him. The silver trim of his platemail obviously meant he was not just a front-line foot soldier, but someone more important. He was armed with a spear and shield, while a short sword hung at his hip. The griffon thrust at Dylan with his spear, aiming for his unarmored chest. Dylan moved his shield to block the blow, but realized the true nature of the attack far too late. The griffon's feint succeeded. He stopped his spear mid-thrust and smashed Dylan across the face with the side of the blade. 

Dylan's head rung, and he felt the nauseating trickle of blood pouring from the side of his face. He stumbled, trying to right his balance as he leaned from side to side. The griffon took this opportunity to try and slam Dylan with his shield. He saw the move coming, and the griffon knew it. Dylan sidestepped and ducked, snapping out his leg closest to the griffon. With a /snap/, his kick shattered the kneecap of the veteran warrior, who -to his credit- didn't scream; he simply growled and swung the spear at Dylan again. He caught the blow with his hammer and watched as the griffon knocked it out of his grip with the edge of his shield. Another quick movement of the griffon's spear slamming down on his shoulder made him drop his shield. Now seemingly defenseless, Dylan seemed the perfect candidate for a pummeling to the face, according to the griffon. He ducked under the blow, then before the griffon could figure out what was happening, he swung his fist in a bone-crushing uppercut. 

He could feel the warrior's jaw breaking through his hands. This was even more impressive considering that the griffon was wearing a helmet that protected the whole face. The blow from Dylan's fist seemed to crater the faceplate of the warrior's helm, obscuring most of his view. The griffon's spear was quickly knocked away by Dylan, who reached down to his belt, took hold of the handle of his dagger and buried the blade up to the hilt in the underside of the griffon's jaw. The blade pierced clean through the top of his mouth and into the brain. The warrior slumped and Dylan pulled his blade free from the deceased warrior's head. 

He quickly grabbed his hammer and shield and rushed over to Ditzy Doo, who was currently trying to lift a large boulder off of her crushed leg. The blonde-named pegasus saw him coming. Dylan got to her and immediately began lifting up the rock. Within seconds, it was off. While he wasn't looking, Ditzy had grabbed a fallen spear from under the pile of rocks. Before he could figure out what was happening, a spearpoint whistled narrowly by his face. He tended and almost swung at her, but he heard the weapon stick into something fleshy. He turned and saw a limp diamond dog leaning against the spear, skewered like a pig on a roast.

"Thanks-"

Before he could finish his sentence, Ditzy Pointed and yelled, her eyes full of fear.

"Look out!"

Dylan spun and saw a stony taloned fist being swung towards his face. The face of the fist's owner was contorted in a mask of hatred, anger and an insatiable thirst for violence.

(Well... ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED?!) 

> Chapter 21- Blood on the Plains Part 2
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"The Other Side" Chapter 21- Blood on The Plains (Part 2)

Dylan's body bent backwards as it followed his head. The punch slammed squarely into the front of his face, breaking his nose and a few teeth. He skidded away from the blow on his back, sliding backwards on the cobblestone street. He then did something he had not done before, nor had he ever thought he would do; he used the momentum carrying him backwards to flip his legs over his head. Once this was done, he used his arms to somersault him back onto his feet. He was just in time to watch as Tanning tried to slam his spear into his guts. He barely knocked the blow out of the way with the edge of his shield; the spearhead passed mere inches from his abdomen. 

"Abomination!"

Tanning's word came like a dart, seeking to taunt and demoralize, and also out of sheer contempt.
Dylan wasn't the kind of man to be fazed by such insults. However, he was the man to counter them.

"I'm not the one with the ass-end of a lion!" 

Dylan followed his insult by trying to crush Tanning's skull with his hammer. He brought his weapon slamming downwards onto the griffon warlord's shield instead. Tanning didn't stagger at all; in fact, he looked like he was barely fazed. He swung his spear around underneath Dylan's guard, ramming the tip into Dylan's calf. With a yelp and a snarl, Dylan smashed the shaft of Tanning's weapon to splinters and used the momentum of the strike to whirl around and strike his opponent. The blow made a rather large crater in Tanning's shield, almost knocking it from his grip. He hissed and drew his falchion, immediately trying to deliver a chop to Dylan's outstretched arm. Once again, Dylan barely stopped the blow, getting his shield into position at the last second.

The flurry of strikes that rained upon his defenses constantly kept Dylan guessing, coming from one direction and then another almost before he could react. 

"WHERE IS SHE?!" Tanning screamed as he stepped out of the way of one of Dylan's hammer blows. The venom in his eyes met with the fire in Dylan's own.

"WHERE YOU'LL NEVER FIND HER!" 

Dylan turned to the side with his shield still extended towards the blade-wielding maniac screaming at him. Once he had turned his body sideways, he twisted backwards, swinging his hammer with all the strength he could spare. The hammerhead smashed against Tanning's shield with a resounding thunderous boom. The head punched a hole clean through the reinforced iron front of the shield and splintered it like it was made of twigs. It flew from Tanning's hand, mangled and broken, landing in the street with a clatter. Tanning's reaction to this was a cry of anger and a savage blow that chopped a section of Dylan's shield to bits. The momentum of his swing made it hard for him to recover, making blocking Tanning's blows became increasingly difficult. 

"Come on, filth! You'll wissssh you'd never crosssed with me!"

With every strike, Tanning's fury seemed to burn hotter, threatening to set his consciousness ablaze in a primal fury. Dylan's own mind knew full well what that fury was like; he had experienced its power firsthand. It could destroy men, families, communities, cities, nations and worlds... and he craved it. 

With a surge of energy, Dylan charged into Tanning, ramming him with his shield. The griffon warlord flew through the air and crashed into the side of a house. Dylan ran forward, tossing away his shield to hold his hammer in a two-handed grip. He held it behind him, winding up his muscles to pulverize the griffon's head into red, meaty chunks. 

"WE'LL SEE WHO'S FILTH WHEN THEY HAVE T' SCRAPE YA UP OFF TH' STREET!!!" 

***

The sounds of something soft and heavy being dragged on stone could be heard throughout the hallway, as could the grunting of low, growling voices. A group of diamond dogs were pulling along three bodies, all of which were ponies. The floor behind them was red, and would probably have to be cleaned up by one of their fellows. One of the dogs pulling the male pony growled in frustration.

"How'd we get stuck with these, eh? I sure haven't got a fucking clue." 

One of the dogs pulling along the smaller female gave a scornful look back down the hall towards where they had come from.

"Because those fecking shitstools in th' 'igh command thought we're not good 'nuf fer' fightin'." 

"Well, fuck them. I say we give these two a right sendoff," The first dog said, gesturing to the two females. 

"Rut a corpse? Now I see why ye got th' shit job," said the other one as he shook his head. "Ye're a crazy one." 

"I'm not crazy, you damn mutt. It's not like we get any tail, is it? Our whores cost more for an hour than a weeks ale rations! I'd rather just get drunk off my ass than hand over me hard-earned coppers to those fucking pirates." 

"Keep it down! They might hear us," another one of the dogs spoke up. He was one of the pair dragging the orange earth pony's body. "You don't want them using our balls for jewelry, do ya?"

"All a' you lot, shut yer' yaps," This came from the biggest dog of the bunch, who was almost singlehandedly pulling along the male, "or I'll feed ya to the damn troll." Almost immediately, the other dogs went completely silent. 

The hall seemed to drag on forever, twisting and turning as they went. They had passed the mines and were heading deep into the heart of the enormous cave system that the fortress had been built in. The only sounds were of of the soft rustle of bodies being dragged on the floor, the click-clack of diamond dog paws, and labored breathing. The eeriness of the whole thing seemed to hang about them like a fog. 

The fog was suddenly broken by the first dog, once again.

"We still gonna have some fun with the-"

He shut up when the big dog glared at him once again. 

"If ya say that one more time, I'm gonna rip yer' cock off and shove it down yer' gizzard."

This last sentence made the first dog go pale. He began sweating profusely and trying not to look directly at the source of his fear.

The dogs walked for another minute before they came to a stop. Ahead of them was an heavy iron door with a small slit to look through. The biggest dog walked up to it and waved the scared-looking dog forward. He pulled a key off of the keyring that hung from his belt and handed it to him. 

"Open the door."

"Why me?" the dog said with more than a hint of discomfort.

"Just fucking do it," the big dog growled. "Or I'll have the boys use ya for a bitch instead of the regular bunch." 

The smaller dog swallowed and looked down at the key in his hands. It was covered in sweat from his sweaty, shaking hands. He looked back up at the door, then at the big mutt who had given him the key. He had drawn a heavy chopping blade from a sheath on his back, which he was now resting on one shoulder. He gave him a look which could've meant one of two things: Do it, or I'm going to rip you a new asshole if you don't hurry up. He assumed it was the latter. He nervously put the key into the lock and turned it. He was rewarded with the heavy ka-chunk sound of the mechanism opening inside. 

The door swung open with a metallic groan which echoed through the hall and the cave on the other side of the door. Stalagmites and stalactites filled the rocky chamber beyond, along with many forms of fungi and a few crystals. The bottom of the cave was piled completely with rubbish and waste; anything that the dogs didn't need or no longer wanted and were unable to trade went here... along with other unsavory items, such as corpses. Broken and splintered wood, scraps of filthy cloth, rusted metal scraps, bones and rotting viscera sat in a giant pile some twenty feet high. It was as of some mad and bizarre architect had built the mound, such was the strangeness of it. The whole thing looked like a twisted fantasy, with pieces of twisted and jagged iron jutting out in random directions and odd patterns of bones sitting in the heap.

Both dogs stared into the cave, blinking as they adjusted from the torchlit hallway to the pitch black cavern's lack of light. The only light came from the orangish-yellow flames of the torches. The dog who had opened the door could've sworn he saw the darkness move. For a moment, it looked like the torches' glow reflected off something, and then stopped suddenly. The small dog yelped and jumped backwards, stumbling back against the wall of the tunnel. He scrabbled against it with his claws, trying to pull himself back away from what his fearful mind made ever more terrifying. 

"Get the fuck in there," the big dog whispered, pushing him forwards with the side of his chopping blade. "Or maybe you'd like me to make good on my offer?" 

The smaller dog swallowed and began to shake. "S-something moved in there," he said.

"So what if it did? Get a move on." 

Reluctantly, the dog inched his way through into the chamber. On the outside of the door was a wooden platform braced onto the cave wall. It creaked and groaned as he stepped onto it, making him cringe nervously. The distance from the platform to the heap below was at least fifty feet. If the fall alone didn't kill, the rusted and wickedly sharp pieces of metal would. He moved slowly and warily towards the edge of the platform, looking in every direction. He drew a dagger from his belt and held it in a trembling paw. 

"I d-d-don't s-see anything." 

The smaller dog's statement was met with a spiteful, growling reply.

"Are ya' sure? Cause if yer' not..." 

"I'm sure! I'm sure!" 

With a grunt, the big dog shrugged, then gestured back to the one on the platform to come back.

"Let's get these poor dead fuckers innat' pit." 

The small mutt scurried back to his comrades and began lifting the male. The male was the first to be carried through the doorway and onto the platform. His crushed and mangled skull dripped viscous fluid onto the platform. His black coat was covered in dust, dirt and shit from the hallway. Next through the doorway was the smaller female unicorn whose throat had been cut open to resemble a gross opening resembling a gill. The blood from the cut was mostly  coagulated now; it had turned a dark blackish-red and hardened into grotesque rivulets that cascaded down her neck. Last onto the platform was the orange earth pony mare. She was a complete and utter mess. To describe the amount of brutality and pain that she had gone through would be excruciating, as would be her experience itself. 

The sound of thousands of buzzing wings filled the ears of the dogs; the entire cavern was swarming with large black flies which picked at and crowded at every scrap of flesh in the pile of waste. They began to buzz about the three corpses, landing on them and quickly flying away as the other flies tried to stake their claims. 

"Alright, then... off ye go, bitch," was what one of the dogs said as he pushed the unicorn off of the edge with his foot. The body rolled off the platform and spun limply through the air as it fell. The dog watched as she slammed into a greater part of a door. The door looked like a porcupine whose quills were rusty nails. The sound of the points being driven into flesh made him wince; it was as much a wince of enjoyment as sympathy. She lay there, stuck to the door in a gut-churning pose, twisted and broken. 

"Were you aiming for that?" The big mongrel asked.

"Yes." 

The largest dog turned and kicked the stallion off of the platform with a grunt. The amount of force he put into the kick sent the body sailing through the air at least half a dozen feet away from the platform. The stallion landed headfirst in a pile of broken stone bricks. With a wet, vomit-inducing smashing sound, his skull exploded, spilling his rancid brains over the cold grey bricks. The body bounced and continued its movement by rolling down the pile. It came to a rest against a large section of what appeared to be a moose's ribcage. 

"Oh, fuck!" 

"Damn, that's nasty!"

"Nice kick." 

The big dog simply looked at the carnage he had caused and affixed his attention on the last body. The dog who had been sent out first onto the platform looked at her hesitantly.

"Do it."

"Yeah, yeah. Hold on, I gotta get something."

For some reason or another, the pony's hat still sat upon her head. It was covered in blood and sweat and it looked like it had been dragged through an abattoir. The grabbed with a sweaty paw and pulled it off her head. He put it on top of his own head and adjusted it. 

"You done?" 

The big mutt's scorn was completely evident in his voice and his face. 

"Yeah." 

With an unceremonious swing of his arm, the dog slapped the body of the straw-maned earth pony on her backside. He looked at his paw in a twisted, satisfied way. With a grin, he reached both hands under her.

"Have a nice trip." 

He flipped the body off the platform, snickering maliciously to himself. The beaten, broken and bloodied corpse of Applejack fell towards the heap without a sound.  Her body's punishment was not over yet, however; her dead, lifeless shell landed straight on a giant piece of twisted metal. The sound of the metal punching through equine muscle and bone echoed through the chamber with finality. Applejack was skewered some four feet down on the jagged spike, which was now a deep red in color. She lay there face up, her lifeless green eyes staring at the ceiling and her slack jaw hanging wide open. If there had been any doubt that she was dead, it was gone now. 

*** 

It hungered. The warm silhouettes of six figures pulsed a swathe of different colors in its vision. Three colder, unmoving shapes also caught its attention. It moved one clawed limb after the other, climbing along the cave wall. It moved its long, serrated, spine-like tail from side to side slowly, fluidly coiling and sweeping it along behind itself. It tasted at the air with its forked black tongue, which slid from between it's teeth like a snake through a wall of knives. It blinked, focusing its dark predatory eyes on a new movement. The three motionless forms fell from the high ledge that the six heat silhouettes were standing on. It listened to their voices and bared its teeth, anticipating the taste of flesh and blood in its fanged maw. 

A voice spoke into its mind in a tongue alien to it, but it understood the words. 

M'tebch, sh'n ch'tuurl.

<Patience, my child.> 

It calmed, letting out an almost inaudible hiss of air between its teeth. With a cold-eyed stare, it watched as the six figures went back to the blinding light of where they had come from. It twitched as it heard the sound of a heavy metal door slamming shut. The less noticeable sound of the lock sliding shut was not missed by it either. It adjusted its chitin-covered body into a pouncing position, opening it's jaws with a clacking sound as they dislocated, revealing a second row of massive fangs. It was not alone. It could see through the darkness of the cavern, and it waited just as the others waited. If there would have been a creature not of the unforgiving blackness to stare into the cave at this moment, they would have seen every single shadow across the entirety of the rocky cavern writhe and slither. Hundreds of cold, killing eyes would have stared right back. 

One word passed through the consciousnesses of all of them like a wave. 

/G'har./ 

<Feed.>

***

Canterlot Keep; the greatest known stronghold in all of Equestria, or that's what the masses were told. Whereas the city looked like a gleaming, beautiful treasure that brushed against the clouds, the fortress was much more practical and industrious in design. The eighty-foot stone walls surrounded an area forty square miles in size. The walls also stretched to either side of the mountain, blocking the roads upwards to the city. The whole of the battlement was filled with groups of soldiers holding banners and manning the massive weapons that sat on the wall's top. It lay at the bottom of the gargantuan, flat-faced cliffs which the city sat high upon. The main building of the keep itself towered above the rest. It was made up of many semicircular levels which appeared lay flat against the cliffs; in reality, they were built into the cliffs themselves, concealing a massive tunnel system and thousands of soldiers right under the city itself. 

The waterfall which poured down from the capital city above fell directly to the center of the building. The keep was designed to funnel the water down through itself and feed it back to a river below; the design meant that if the falls were not dammed, the keep would have a constant and reliable source of fresh water. This meant that it could withstand constant siege and the soldiers would not suffer from dehydration. Dying as your insides dried out and your throat turned to ash in your hands was not a pleasant way to die. The keep also had a number of farms scattered among its grounds. The farmers who owned these farms had served the royal family for many generations, bringing in crop after crop of food to keep the soldiers and guards of the fortress well nourished. The keep also had a large structure of steel and glass that stood in the shape of an angular, four-pointed pyramid; the herb gardens. The herb gardens housed hundreds of exotic, chemically-rich and medicinal plants which the keep's healers and alchemists used to great effect.

The hundreds of barracks lining the inside of the wall lay empty. In a normal day, they would have seen constant use; normally, no one dared to attack an Equestrian settlement out of fear of retaliation. Canterlot keep was a suicidal target for all but the most determined, strong and well-trained invaders. The reason for the barracks' emptiness was as obvious as the sun in the sky; every last soldier stood in the massive courtyard in the center of Canterlot Keep. 

An entire Equestrian legion stood inside the courtyard, still as stone. The banners and cloaks of the legion all blew in the wind, rustling loudly. A thousand polished sets of armor glinted in the afternoon sun. Every last set of eyes was locked on the tall, graceful female form that towered high above on a level of the keep. 

Gold and diamond; that was what made up the armor that she wore. It caught the rays of the blazing sun above, casting a shining radiance about her already radiant form. A pair of gold-etched blades sat in sheaths built into the armor itself. Upon her head sat a many-edged helmet from which erupted a sunburst of golden spikes, forming a halo of razor-sharpness around her. The helmet made ample room for the foot-long horn that extended skywards from the top of her skull. An aura of magic seemed to pulse out from around its tip like a helix of light and fire. 

The figure's body moved lithely and powerfully, as if it was filled with a great purpose. Every muscle rippled and tensed as it carried her forwards. She stopped when she came to the edge, standing high above the thousands of soldiers below. The look of determination and anger on her face spoke louder than any drawn blade. 

Princess Celestia spoke.

"My soldiers, today I have received terrible news. Our nation is under attack from those who would seek to cause naught but ruin for our people."

She did not speak in a yell, but somehow her voice carried bold and clear throughout the entire legion below. Every last ear turned to listen, taking in every last word she uttered.

"The town of Ponyville is under siege."

A few among the hundreds of ranks of soldiers below audibly flinched. It was obvious where they were from. The looks of horror, worry, shock and denial on their faces told their princess all she needed to know.

"I know many of you have families, friends and homes in Ponyville. I myself have a very close student of mine there now. It was she who sent me this dark news."

A figure beside the princess seemed to stare in shock with his jaw open, his eyes wide in fear. The commander of the royal guard looked like a ghost. His eyes looked in the direction of the town many miles away. Shining Armor never thought his sister would be in that any kind of danger in Ponyville; He was obviously wrong. 

"We march to Ponyville. We will show these invaders the full might of Equestria!"

Thousands cheered, raising their spears in the air and stomping their hooves. They chanted once again, drowning out all other sound. One pony did not cheer, and it was obvious who it was. Shining Armor's heart felt like it was made of lead. He could barely whisper his next words.

"Sister... Be safe... Please..."

***

(Guardians of Freedom- GRV Music)

Twilight Sparkle was /not/ safe. The battle raged around her. All that she could make out was a whirling, roiling mass of blades and bodies. Rainbow Dash stood beside her, fighting with a large griffon with an axe. She dodged blow after blow, nimbly ducking and weaving between each swing of her enemy's weapon. As he was recovering from a stroke, she thrust the blade of her short sword deep into his guts. With a cry of pain, he lurched, his spine straightening as he tried to retaliate. Rainbow Dash blocked the blow with her shield and pulled her sword free. Before the warrior could chop at her again, she swung her blade upwards in a slashing motion. The edge of the blade cut deep into the griffon's skull just between his visor. He fell, dead. 

Twilight herself faced off against a pair of diamond dogs. They both rushed forwards, barking war cries. She barely knocked away a spear thrust with her sickle-blade that would have gone right through her breast. The other dog took his chance to try and knock her head clean off her shoulders with a large mace. He swung wildly, missing her completely and making himself stumble. Twilight kicked out, catching the off-balance dog's leg. He tripped and slammed into the ground with a grunt, frantically trying to scrabble to his feet. His comrade stabbed at Twilight again, this time without being intercepted. The spear's tip pierced Twilight's thigh, below the hip. She cried out in pain and slashed at her attacker. The blow scratched along the side of his helmet, tearing a gash along his ear. A growled curse was how the dog responded to Twilight's blade cutting into his flesh.

"WHORE BITCH!" 

The dog swung his spear sideways at her, but he was too close for the spear's head to slice his target; instead, the haft just under the head slammed into Twilight's ribs. She gritted her teeth in pain as she felt one of them break. With a yell of exertion, she swung her other hoof at him. Her strike slammed into the dog's snout with surprising force for a pony of Twilight's size and occupation. Apparently the librarian hit harder than she looked like she could. As he reeled backwards, Twilight cut the dog's throat open with her sickle. The warrior clutched at his throat and watched her as he fell to the ground, bleeding to death in seconds. 

The other dog stood up and rushed her, determined on stoving her head in with his mace. He never got that far. A red-coated blade exploded out the front of his chest with a wet thuck noise. He froze in place with his weapon raised above his head. The blade disappeared back where it came from. With a gasp, the dog turned to try and strike at his new attacker. It was obvious that he was dead; the blade had pierced vital organs. Rather than bleed out slowly like his comrade, his head was severed from his shoulders in a spray of arterial fluid. 

Rainbow Dash nodded to Twilight, flourishing her blade, flinging droplets of the dog's blood to the stones. Her face was full of victorious confidence. She started to smile, but her expression changed to one of horror. Countless griffons and diamond dogs poured into the street from behind the rear ranks. Ponies were dying left and right, no match for trained and well-equipped soldiers. 

The sounds of Derpy's calls for help were drowned out by another sound; Dylan's primal scream of anger. 

***

He went at Tanning snarling and screaming, swinging his hammer with all the force he could muster. The griffon warlord flinched and brought his arm up towards the blow. Luckily for him, it was his stone arm that he moved to stop the attack. With a deafening slamming noise, Tanning flew backwards, flipping over and over again as he skidded across the ground. He slammed into an overturned cart and lay still. His head was smashed up, bruised and broken in places. His beak seemed to tilt to one side and his tongue lolled out. The blood pouring out of his face shrouded his features like a red veil.

Dylan walked towards Ditzy Doo, moving his hammer into a loose one-handed grip. A trio of griffons stood in his way, forming a wall of shields in front of the fallen pony. Before they could even react, he charged, swinging his hammer overhead at the warrior in the center. The blow crushed the griffon's shield like it wasn't even there. As his comrades started to move to attack him, Dylan sidestepped and used his momentum to slam the hammer's spike deep into the second warrior's chest. The point punched straight through the griffon's chainmail and into his heart, killing him instantly. Before his body could hit the ground, Dylan pulled up his knee and kicked the limp body of the warrior  into the first griffon like a missile. The armored projectile smashed into him like a bullet, knocking him to the ground. The third griffon swung his three-headed flail at Dylan's skull. Before the griffon could even blink, his human opponent ducked right underneath the three spiked heads whirling towards his head. The griffon brought the weapon swinging around again. Without warning, Dylan darted out with his free hand and grabbed the three chains in a fist. With a spinning, crouching motion, he brutally swung the griffon by his own weapon, bringing him crashing down on the cobblestone street. The griffon landed headfirst with enough force to flatten his skull against the stones in a bloody mess. His last living comrade rushed towards his killer and thrust his sword at the blood-drenched monstrosity. 

It caught the blade in its hand. The sword's edge cut into the flesh of the creature's hand, spilling its dark red blood to the ground. Tendons, muscle and bone could be seen where the blade had sliced through, but the aberration didn't even flinch. The griffon tried to pull it free, but it was useless. He instead released his grip on his sword and pulled out a short hatchet. He struck out at it with a heavy-handed chop, but the blow was knocked clear by the thing's hammer. The thing tossed his sword a few inches into the air and caught it as it flipped around so that the grip was now in its hand. It shot him a demonic smile as it lunged toward him. He yelled as he moved to block the sword's thrust with his axe. He wasn't quick enough. He felt the cold, painful feeling of steel at the back of his throat. In his final moment of mortal life, he looked down to see the blade of his sword covered in his own blood as it protruded from his open beak. The griffon fell backwards, dead. Dylan released his grip on the sword, watching as the body fell backwards with the sword still coming out the back of his head. The blade stuck into the ground, propping up the warrior in a morbid and unnatural position. The corpse limply released its grip on its axe, letting them it to the ground. He stared at the wide, white eyes of the dead soldier for a moment, before he turned to face Ditzy Doo. The rage of battle faded halfway from his face; the fight wasn't over yet.

"You okay?"  

"Y-yes, I'm a-all r-right,"
The grey pegasus responded with a hint of fear in her voice. "but please get this off of me!" 

Dylan looked at the stone in question. It appeared to have crushed of Ditzy's legs, which was twisted and broken in an odd angle. He lay down his hammer and bent down, clutching the sides of the rock in both hands.

"I don't think that's how you move- Watch out!" 

(Vendetta- GRV Music)

Dylan whirled to see the snarling figure of Tanning swinging his fist once again into his face. With an explosion of pain, he stumbled backwards, slamming into the side of the shopfront just behind where Derpy was pinned. 

"YOU /FUCK/! WHERE ISSSSS SSSSHEEEEEE?!?!" 

Dylan barely dodged Tanning's other hand; he jerked his head out of the way at the last moment. His face was broken and smashed; he shouldn't have even been alive. Tanning's punch should have shattered his skull like an eggshell, but he was still alive and kicking. The talons of the warlord carved a trio of deep furrows into the wall where Dylan's head had been a second before. Dylan didn't respond with any rational type of thought; instead, he roared at the top of his lungs and slammed into the crazed griffon with all his might. He hooked one hand around Tanning's knock and began slamming punch after punch into Tanning's gut. The thick plate armor on the warlord's abdomen buckled under the superhuman force of the blows. Tanning countered by elbowing Dylan in the face and kicking him away. Dylan looked like one of the barbarians of old; he was wild, frenzied, unkempt and devoid of all self-control. As he stumbled back, he shrugged off his coat and jacket to reveal the bloodstained undershirt underneath. 

What Dylan didn't see was the group of griffons and diamond dogs coming up the street to help Tanning. One of them reached to his back and pulled a javelin from a the leather quiver that sat there. He pulled his arm back and then whipped it forwards with practiced speed, hurling the throwing spear at the human fighting with his captain. The projectile whistled past Dylan's ear and smashed through a shop window, scattering jagged shards of glass to the street. With a shout, Tanning cursed his soldier. 

"YOU FOOL! I WANT-"

Before the enraged griffon could finish speaking, Dylan leaned forwards and then backwards in rapid succession, slamming his wicked uppercut into the underside of Tanning's jaw. Tanning stumbled back, groaning in pain and shutting his eyes for a moment. He opened them to see an airborne Dylan spinning as he leaped upwards. He extended his leg at the last second, slamming the back of his foot into the side of  Tanning's skull. The warlord's head spun violently to the side, scattering blood and spit from his open beak to the dusty stones. 

His warriors charged, brandishing blade and spear at the battered human. As they ran at him, he bent his legs at the knees and hunched his shoulders, coiling like a spring. With a feral snarl, he released all the tension in his body and launched himself forwards with all his strength. As he hurtled through the air, he reached down with his arms and pulled his feet backwards. The motion flipped him end over end as he sailed over the heads of the warriors below. He landed on his feet directly behind them, bending his knees to absorb the shock of the landing. 

The rearmost warrior turned with a look of shock in his eyes just before Dylan slammed the point of his elbow into the space between them. With a hollow cracking sound, the griffon's body fell over backwards. The other warriors were still trying to slow themselves to a halt; the momentum of their charge made it difficult to stop quickly. The next warrior was a diamond dog, who tried to carve a large chunk out of Dylan with his sword. The blow stopped mid-swing; a large human hand clutched the arm of the dog just above the wrist. The dog's eyes widened in fear just as Dylan grabbed him by the throat and slammed the back of his armored head against a shop wall three times. The reason for his slack face was undeniably the flattened back of his helmet, which was depressed several inches inwards, which further meant that his skull was as well. The red seeping out from between the space of the dog's helmet trickled down Dylan's arm. The disturbing thing about his arm was that it appeared larger, more muscular and hairier. The tips of his fingers seemed as if they sprouted claws, not nails. 

With a bellowing roar, Dylan hurled the corpse of the diamond dog over his head at the nearest warrior: a griffon who had thought running straight at his opponent was a good idea. The body crashed into his shield with enough force to shatter it; the planks of the shield barely hung from iron bands and bracings that held it together. The warrior was knocked backwards into the warrior behind him, who stumbled and then shoved him out of the way. The rest of the griffons flinched slightly, but held their ground against the oncoming six-and a half foot tall barbarian. They thrust out with their spears at him as he ran at them, taking cover behind their wall of shields. The tips of their spears slammed into his flesh, but the hulking form of Dylan didn't even seem to acknowledge the damage. With a sweep of his arm, he shattered the weapons' shafts like they were toothpicks. The griffons dropped their ruined arms to the ground and drew axe, sword and dagger from their belt to finish what they had started.

They were not the ones to finish it. 
Dylan punched through the first warrior's shield and grabbed him by the throat. The one next to him attempted to hack him to pieces with an axe. He did not. With a roar, Dylan swung the warrior that he had by the neck into the path of the axe. The blade of the weapon cut right through the chainmail on the warrior's back and into his spine. The griffon shrieked as the other warrior pulled his axe from his flesh, his eyes darting towards the sky for a moment. He looked back down at Dylan and started to try and stab with his sword, but the Celt snapped his neck with a twitch of his hand. He threw the body off to the side and ducked under another blow from the axe-warrior. The pounding of his bloodthirsty heart seemed to fill Dylan's ears, as did the sound of his deep, guttural breathing. A moment after the strike sailed over his head, he swung his clawed hand up and under the griffon's arm. The vicelike grip of his fingers wrapped around the soldier's forearm, just as his foot moved behind the griffon's own lion-clawed foot. Dylan bent the leg that he had behind the griffon and threw him to the ground, releasing his grip on his arm. He turned full-circle and brought his other foot down on the griffon's face with a moist cracking noise. He dodged a slash from a sword and brought his clawed hand right across its wielder's throat, ripping it out mercilessly.

He was like a whirling, snarling machine of death now. Even weaponless, he killed as easily as he breathed. The blood of dozens of those he had killed already could never slake the thirst for violence that had lived in his heart all his life. All the betrayal, all the cruelty, , all the lies, all the greed, all the darkness, and all the rage of humanity had made him into something worse than they. One after the other, they fell to his hands. But it was not enough; they kept coming. 

***

Looking down the sight of her crossbow through the open window of a house, Rarity narrowed her eyes in contempt. The diamond dog she was aiming it at had just cut down a pair of ponies like they were nothing. His sword was clutched tightly in his paws, dripping with the blood of those who he had just slain. He turned and looked like he was about to start running at another of the townsfolk when Rarity pulled the crude trigger-bar of her crossbow. The narrow-tipped bolt punched right through the leather cuirass that he was wearing, embedding itself deep in his chest. The dog sputtered, fell onto his knees and looked at the projectile lodged in his chest. He whimpered pathetically as he fell forward onto his face among the corpses clogging the street. Rarity had already put her hoof down on the metal brace on the front of the weapon and begun pulling back the string to its ready position. She swung the crossbow back up and levitated a bolt into the groove on the top of the weapon. She sighted another target and fired. She barely got out of the way as a javelin flew at her through the window and stuck into the wall behind her. 

"You'll have to do better than that!" 

An answer to her taunt came seconds later: The sound of three armored griffon warriors flying up and landing on the edge of the window. The first one leapt through the opening and raised his sword behind his head. 

"Oh, buck." 

The griffon swung his sword down and to the side, aiming to make himself a trophy of Rarity's head. She barely escaped the deadly edge of the blade, which passed through the top of her mane like an icy cold breeze. Strands of her indigo hair drifted lazily down to the floorboards, floating on an unseen current of air. Rarity jumped out of the way of another chop of the warrior's sword, dropping her crossbow and drawing a dagger from her hip with a flash of magic. The dagger shot upwards to block another blow, then spun in midair and lunged forwards. The sword-griffon ducked behind his shield as the dagger stabbed at him unsuccessfully. His two comrades vaulted over the windowsill and into the room, readying their weapons to strike. Rarity searched for another weapon as her dagger continued to attack the first griffon. The other two circled around him and made their way towards the lone unicorn, glaring at her with all the sharpness of two pairs of razor blades. 

"All alone now, bitch," one of them said with a grin, "and no one's gonna save ya."

Rarity backed away, her deep, watery eyes darting around the room for anything that could be used as a weapon. Before she could find anything, the griffon lunged forward, swinging a spiked mace at her. She barely ducked out of the way. The swing smashed into a large bookshelf, shattering part of it and spilling a large amount of books and papers onto the floor. Rarity narrowed her eyes in anger and lowered her head. 

"I don't need anyone to save me!" 

She charged headfirst into the griffon, letting out a yell of fury as she slammed into him. Her horn punched through his armor and into his ribs, lancing through layers of bone and muscle. She pulled her horn free from the griffon and slammed her forehooves into the sides of his helmet in a rain of blows. The hole where her horn had pierced was spilling a torrent of blood, and it was obvious that the warrior wouldn't be standing for long. He rammed into her with his shield, knocking her backwards into the wall. A scream of anger blasted from his open beak as he swung the mace again. This time Rarity was not so lucky; the head smashed one of her front legs viciously, breaking the bones at the upper part of the leg. She screamed in pain, kicking out defensively at his abdomen. He slammed into a desk against the opposite wall and slid onto his back on top of it. Without hesitation, Rarity ran towards him and pulled a bolt from her quiver. As he was trying to stand, she slammed the tip of the bolt downwards through the eyeslit of his helmet. The griffon twitched and went limp, falling in a heap to the floor. 

The first griffon through the window was no longer blocking strikes from the floating dagger; Rarity had already lost her concentration and the dagger lay unmoving on the floor. He charged the unicorn, yelling a curse in the griffon language. Rarity's front leg hung limp from her side, dangling uselessly. Her other arm reached down and grabbed the mace from the dead griffon. As the warrior charging her stabbed out with his blade, she knocked it to the side with the mace's haft. She knew that she would die; she knew she wouldn't be able to hold off the pair of warriors. She could feel the strength leaving her with each swing she took.

The other griffon moved in, raising his hammer to crush the pony's skull. He grinned and opened his beak. 

"Say your prayers, whore," The griffon said, "because no one's listening." 

He started to swing his hammer around, his beak open in an expression of murderous glee. Before he could finish, a earthshaking roar sounded from outside, followed by a tremendous amount of screaming and a crash of stone on metal. He stopped mid-swing and turned to look in the direction of the clamor of death. Rarity screamed angrily, swinging the mace weakly at the distracted griffon's shield.

"You'll never take me alive! Come on and finish it, you filthy dirt munchers!"

He hissed in anger, stopping the blow with his shield. His comrade kicked Rarity in the stomach, sending her sprawling to the paper-strewn floor. The hammer-griffon stepped forward, raising his weapon one final time against the downed unicorn. He swung it downwards at her with a cry of rage, using every last ounce of energy to try and smash her into a gory pulp. 

The sound of death filled the room with a grim finality. The hammer griffon stood with his arms low, his eyes locked on the unicorn's body. The white cost of the mare was spattered with red, and from her eyes emanated the greatest fear and surprise that the griffon had ever seen. She stared right at him not believing what she saw. The thousand-yard stare she was giving him seemed to pierce his soul like a knife. Death hung in the air like a ghost, eerie and cold. The unicorn let out a long, terrified breath as she looked at him. 

Suddenly, it swept over him like a chill; he felt the icy fingers of pain snaking their way up the inside of his skull. With a soul-breaking feeling of terror, he realized what truly was; it was his blood covering the body of the unicorn. His blow never struck her.The griffon looked down in horror. He saw the curved, vicious claws bursting through his guts like massive knives of chitin. A deep, guttural growling came from behind him, followed by a roar. He could barely react as massive fanged jaws bit down on the sides of his skull, biting through the bone and splitting his head open like a nut. The jaws released their grip on the dead griffon's skull, letting the corpse drop limply from their clutches. The other griffon stared in horror as clawed feet moved across the floor with slow and deliberate intent, tearing deep gashes in the wooden boards. A deep voice rumbled from between teeth like daggers, splitting the air with terrifying clarity. 

"DON'T YOU TOUCH HER." 

The griffon ran forwards the monstrosity, swinging his sword with all the force he could muster. The thing didn't even try to stop the attack. The blade skittered along its skin with all the lethality of a butter knife. 

"BIG MISTAKE." 

With one hand, the giant beast caught the sword's blade on its next swing. With a flick of its wrist, it broke the sword like a child's toy. With the other, it ripped away the shield from the griffon's talons. The warrior still desperately fought on, trying to stab at it with his broken sword. The jagged, broken point bit into the thing's chest; unfortunately for the griffon, it went less than an inch deep. 

With fire in its eyes, the monstrous being picked up the warrior by the front of his armor and lifted him up into the air. The beast and the griffon locked eyes; the griffon's were horrified and uncomprehending, whilst the eyes of the monstrosity seemed to flash and burn like an inferno, full of violence and wildness. The fire in its eyes seemed to explode from its open jaws as it roared. Flames as hot as the rage inside the thing's heart washed over the head of its prey. The screams of the griffon died out in seconds as the flesh on his skull turned to ash.  With a growl, it tossed the charred remains of the griffon away, scowling at the corpse like nothing more than a piece of garbage. 

Rarity couldn't believe her eyes. The hulking, clawed, monstrous beast standing above her tossed the griffon's body aside like a doll, such was its size and strength. Tendrils of smoke still drifted from between its teeth like coal-black serpents, twisting through the air erratically. It blinked, turning towards her. 

"RARITY, IT'S ME." 

It walked closer to her and looked down with eyes that seemed to remember her... feel her... know her... /love her/... 

"S-Spike?!"




AUTHOR'S NOTE

GOT YOU AGAIN! MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Oh... and one more thing...





XENOMOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORPHS!
> Chapter 22- Blood on the Plains Part 3
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"The Other Side" Chapter 22- Blood on the Plains (Part 3)

Derpy Hooves watched in fear as her fellow townsfolk were cut down and slain all around her. The tide of battle had changed, this time in the invaders' favor. The trained and brutal warriors of the griffons and diamond dogs pushed the townsfolk back further and further into the town. Crude spears, clubs and board shields wielded by ordinary folk were no match for honed steel blades and thick armor wielded by experienced soldiers. Only a handful of the townsfolk were managing to keep the enemy forces back. Big Macintosh, Lyra and a few others were the only ones able to stand their ground against the advance. They were standing in a tight line, with those who had shields standing in front, while those who had longer weapons such as spears and pitchforks stood behind the wall of shields. Lyra and Big Macintosh stabbed and thrusted, bringing down foe after foe, but they kept coming. The mass of griffons and dogs pushed and struck at the line ferociously, trying to break through and slaughter the enemy on the other side. 

"Come on, ya mangy bastards! Crush the lot of em'," Said Rex as he split open one of the townsfolk with his axe. "or I'll hang yer' skulls from my wall instead a' theirs!" 

Derpy looked back at the mass of warriors facing off against Dylan. As she watched, another one fell, whose throat was ripped open by a swipe of Dylan's hands. Blow after blow missed Dylan by mere inches, passing by the young man -if he was still a man- who seemed to weave and twist in an unpredictable fashion, avoiding all the weapons of his foes. Derpy turned her attention to the rock that lay atop her rear leg, which was crushed like a twig. It was painful to move, and she could feel the grinding of jagged shards of bone as she squirmed and struggled. Desperately, Derpy tried to pull her leg free. Her screams of pain rent the air as she felt the stone weigh down on her broken, twisted limb. She began to flap her wings, trying to use as much of her strength as possible to free herself. Only more pain came of the pegasus' efforts, which made her scream in agony all the more loudly. 

The sound of ragged panting coming closer to her made Derpy flinch. She turned, looking at the source of the breathing with fear in her eyes. Standing stock still, she gazed at the grinning face of the diamond dog before her. His claws wrapped tighter around the hilt of his blade as he moved towards her. He pulled it back as if to thrust. She watched as hunger and bloodlust glinted in his black eyes. He snarled and plunged the blade downwards, which struck the stones next to where Derpy lay. She had moved as quickly as she could at the last moment, twisting to the side, which sent even more flashes of pain surging through her. She reached for the weapon she had dropped among the stones, grabbing a hold of it with a trembling hoof. The dog swung his sword around in anger, which bit deep into the club which Derpy had raised in front of her. With her good leg, she slammed her hoof into the dog's kneecap, shattering the bone easily. The dog screamed and fell to the ground, landing on his face in front of the downed pony. As he was trying to get up and finish off his adversary, his head slammed against the pavement. A heavy club slammed into the back of his skull. It came down again and again, smashing his head into a ruined, bloody mess. The cobblestones were plastered with the remains of the canine's cranium, like a morbid and abstract piece of art some bloodthirsty god might will into being. 

Derpy held the bloody club in her hooves and panted heavily. She felt a cold and terrifying feeling deep inside her chest, as if the entirety of her insides were freezing from the inside out. Taking a life was not a thing easily forgotten or forgiven, especially by someone as innocent as the wall-eyed pegasus. She barely had time to turn to watch as another of the dogs charged her, whirling a flail in a circle above him. The dog charged forwards, but stopped in the middle of a step as a flash of steel slashed across his throat. He blinked once and spat a gob of blood before his head rolled off his shoulders. The decapitated torso tumbled forwards after a hoof to the small of its back knocked it over. 

The figure standing over the fresh corpse was dressed in worn and tarnished leather underarmor, normally worn under a set of platemail. If any observer had ever been to Canterlot, it would have been obvious that this was the armor of a royal guard, except it was not gold; it was grey. The shoulder guard appeared to have a scratched out insignia that had possibly been a symbol of rank long ago. The helm that the pony wore had had its plume cut; if any of the royal guard were to explain what this meant, they would say that it meant the wearer had been disgraced and removed from service. The pony was bluish black in coat and had a sky black mane which was streaked with lines of rich purple. The pony's eyes were also purple, but seemed as if they had been half-drained of life. The guard's figure was sleek and muscular, like a runner's; lithe and graceful, but powerful at the same time. The pony was a unicorn; the long, filed horn protruding from the warrior's skull made that very clear. Gripped in one hoof was a double edged short sword used almost exclusively by Equestrians. The blade was meant for chopping and quick thrusts, with a balance a few inches from the handle. It was already covered in the crimson stains of battle, and it was undeniably not the first time it had tasted flesh in its existence. In the warrior's other hoof was a large square shield, which was tall enough for all but the largest of ponies to hide fully behind. 

The guard turned away from Derpy as a pair of arrows stuck into her shield just inches from the top edge. The pony in royal guard armor turned in the direction of where the arrows had come from and just barely managed to duck behind its shield before a number more arrows and bolts rained down upon it. The warrior first raised its sword in front of its shield and chopped downwards, breaking all the shafts jutting from the shield. They clattered to the cobblestones and lay there. With a flash of dark-colored energy from the warrior's horn, a burst of glowing projectiles shot out at the adversaries currently firing upon the guard. A few shrieks and howls of pain rose into the air from their direction, thick and tormented. Sounds of cooking flesh filled the air as foul black smoke rolled off of the corpses and into the grey sky. 

***

Away from the raging battle on the streets, the town's young hid in the town school under the protection of Pinkie Pie, Fluttershy and Cheerilee. The sounds of weapons clanging together and the shouts of battle carried on the wind, followed by the faint yet chilling smell of blood. 

"Miss Cheerilee... W-what's happening?" Sweetie Belle asked, her visage filling with fear. 

"Don't worry about it, Sweetie Belle. I'm sure it will be all right..." The hesitation and doubt in the schoolteacher's voice didn't seem to be picked up by the children, but both Pinkie Pie and Fluttershy looked nervously at each other, their minds both turning to the horrors that awaited just a few hundred feet away. 

The children still gathered close together in their fear of the alien sounds outside. Peace was all they had ever known; they would soon find out that there is no such thing as true peace in mortal existence; life is war, and we are all soldiers, whether we fight just to survive, to make a difference, or  to show your belief is stronger than another's. 

"When will it stop?" Scootaloo said, looking fearfully out of one of the windows facing the town and the destruction therein. The schools desks and furniture had been pushed up against all but one of the doors, which led out the back towards the open fields and forests surrounding the Ponyville countryside. 

Fluttershy was the first one to answer. She looked just as scared as most of the fillies and colts in the school. What she was afraid of most wasn't herself. 

"I... I hope so, Scootaloo." 

Pinkie Pie spoke up, smiling despite the circumstances. She looked at the group of children sitting on the floor, waiting for what would happen next. 

"Hey, you guys wanna play a game?"

Some of them perked up immediately, turning to look at Pinkie Pie with wide eyes. For the moment -at least- their attention was diverted. They began to play with her, laughing and talking, but still seemed to sense the chill of wrongness that permeated the air. 

"Cheerilee?" Fluttershy asked, pawing at the floor with a downcast look on her face. 

"Yes, Fluttershy?" Cheerilee answered, looking at her with a motherly kind of compassion she had garnered from years of teaching. Fluttershy shared the same compassionate nature as she, and she could see that she was worried about something important. 

"It's about someone I care about... I... don't know if he's going to be okay... I'm scared." The gentle pegasus was beginning to shiver; not just out of worry and fear, but because the air itself was becoming chill. Her tremblings continued as she kept on speaking. "He... We... Um... Oh..." 

Cheerilee raised an eyebrow, which was quickly lowered as she realized what Fluttershy had been trying to say. She smiled and lay a hoof on her shoulder, looking into her eyes with a knowing wisdom. "You love him very much, don't you, Fluttershy? I... I know how that is, being in love with somepony." 

"You're-" 

"Yes, I am. He doesn't think I know he does. If you need to know one thing, it's that if he really cares about you, he will do everything that he possibly can to get back to you, no matter what." 

Cheerilee smiled. Her own love showed through her eyes like a warm candlelight. She knew how Fluttershy was feeling, and she felt the same way; her love was out there too, fighting for his home just like the rest of the town. 

The only reason that Cheerilee, Pinkie Pie and Fluttershy had been sent away from the fighting was because they were the best with young ones. The fact that Dylan had some say in sending them away might have had something to do with Fluttershy being placed with the children. 

The cold grew greater, and the reason for the change grew with it; the sky was blackening into a cover of angry, roiling storm clouds. Rain was already starting to fall on the late-morning landscape, drumming on the roof of the schoolhouse quietly as the storm came sweeping in like a solid curtain of unwavering gloom. Lightning flashed and thunder rumbled angrily in the distance, almost drowning out the sounds of screaming and battle coming from Ponyville. The ghostly light that lit up the landscape washed over the faces of Cheerilee and Fluttershy, casting away the blackness momentarily. 

"Thank you. I know he won't give up on me. He... loves me... and I love him." Fluttershy's cheeks reddened slightly as she spoke, alluding to what Cheerilee already knew; she had done more than just talk to him. 

Cheerilee turned for a moment to watch Pinkie and the children playing hide and seek among the school desks. Three fillies were not playing with the rest of the group; all three of them were standing apart from them as if they had something better to do; They were Diamond Tiara, Silver Spoon and Applebloom. 

"Why do we have to be here? My daddy says I can do whatever I want!" Diamond Tiara said arrogantly, stomping her hoof on the floor. Her friend Silver Spoon spoke something of a similar sentiment.

"Yeah, why do we have sit here like a bunch of babies? I want to go, now! This is stupid!" 

"We're leaving! I'm not staying here for one more second!" 

Cheerilee looked worried for a moment as she tried to placate the two young mares. She looked as if she could not believe what they had just said. Applebloom turned to look at the two fillies with a stare unlike any she had shown before. It was full of a darkness and an understanding that one as young as herself should not have possessed. Something had changed her, twisted her from the inside out. With a slow, cold tone, she said her next words with all the clarity she could muster.

"Stay here or y'all are dead." 

Everyone in the room turned to Applebloom with looks of horror and utter surprise. Silence followed, interspersed with the sounds of thunder and rain. Her face was illuminated by a bolt of lightning spearing down from the clouds, making her seem even more eerie. It was a few moments before anyone spoke, but it was Pinkie who did.

"A-Applebloom... Are you feeling all right?" Pinkie's blue eyes looked measuringly at the red-maned filly, trying to understand what exactly it was that had made Applebloom say something like that.

"Y-yeah, Applebloom, what's wrong?" Scootaloo said. She looked as if Applebloom was... different. She seemed almost a different person.

"Why would you say that, Applebloom?" Cheerilee said, genuinely taken aback by her student's words. Everyone but Applebloom was speaking excitedly now, some of the children discussing if what Applebloom said was true. 

"Die? Die?! Why would we-" Sweetie Belle's fearful words were cut short by Diamond Tiara spitting a reply at Applebloom.

"You can't be serious! You're just a dumb little country hick that thinks she knows more than-"

It was Applebloom's turn to interrupt now. She bared her teeth and lowered her head, glaring daggers at Diamond Tiara. Some deep, hidden energy suddenly awoke from inside her small form, sweeping over her and releasing all the pain and anger she had been holding inside of her. 

"Ya ignorant, stuck-up little no-good piece a' cud. Ya think ya know everythin', don't you? Daddy's little angel don't have anythin' t' say except she needs some more bits fer' a fancy new dress! And that's just so the all the colts will stare at your skinny lil' rich filly plot, because there's nothin' at all 'tween your ears!" 

Diamond Tiara's jaw dropped. Every single pair of eyes in the room turned to stare at Applebloom again. Every single one of them couldn't believe where the words had come from. Cheerilee began to try to speak, but Diamond Tiara blurted out her next words before she could.

"Listen here, you... you inbred little muck farmer! My daddy-" 

"Yer' daddy? He has to do everythin' fer' ya, doesn't he, ya whiny little baby? 'Daddy, Ah want this, Ah want that! Why can't everyone like me because Ah'm so much snobbier and more insecure than everypony else?' 'Applebloom, you're such a blank flank!' You know what Ah' have t' say t' that? At least Ah' didn't get mah' cutie mark for being a whiny little bitch!" 

Diamond Tiara's eyes literally flew wide open. Every single pony in the room besides Applebloom looked like they couldn't believe any of what they had just heard was real. Applebloom marched up to Diamond Tiara and literally put her forehead up against hers and stated right into her eyes.

"Ya wanna know how Ah know you'd die if you went outside?" Applebloom scowled, tapping Diamond Tiara's chest with hoof as she spoke each sharply pronounced word. 
"Because mah' granny's dead, mah sister's gone, Ah' watched mah' brother almost git' killed in front of me, mah' house burned to the ground, and Ah was almost violated by one of the freaks out there tryin' to kill us! Wanna know anythin' else, ya stupid, useless little brat?" 

Silence was her only answer other than the tears streaming down the filly whose eyes she was staring into with all the righteous anger she could muster. A thunderclap rumbled as she collapsed backwards onto her rump and began to sob uncontrollably. Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle were caught halfway between disbelief and pride. Cheerilee simply opened her mouth to speak and closed it again, blinking in shock. Pinkie Pie gasped and held a hoof up to her mouth, staring at Applebloom and Diamond Tiara and stood abnormally still for herself. Fluttershy looked at Applebloom in an entirely different way; she could see the pain and sorrow behind her words, somehow familiar to her. Applebloom reminded her of someone... Someone close. 

"Applebloom, I know you're-" 

The children screamed. Behind Fluttershy, a few feet from the window, a figure was lit up by a ghostly white flash of lightning. It was a diamond dog. His teeth glinted as rain pattered off of his metal helmet and dripped down to the ground below. He raised the blade clutched in one of his clawed hands and brought it smashing into the windowpane. The sound of smashing glass failed to drown out the children's screaming. Thunder rumbled as lightning flashed again. He was not alone. 

Everyone backed away from the window and stared in horror at the dogs. Cheerilee yelled out, picking up a heavy metal mallet that she used for fixing schooldesks. 

"Everyone! Out the back, quickly!" 

There was a massive press of bodies as the ponies fled out the back door. The sounds of breaking glass and smashing wood filled the air as the dogs came bursting in through the front of the school. A few of them broke off from the rest of the pack and circled around the sides of the school, trying to catch the fleeing ponies as they came out the backdoor of the tiny schoolhouse. The ones heading into the front door advanced towards Cheerilee, who was still brandishing her hammer. One of them lunged at her with a growl, but went deathly silent as the schoolteacher bludgeoned the side of his face in with a moist crunching sound. His body slumped to the ground in an awkward, disturbing fashion, laying there with wide dead eyes and a gaping mouth. The dog's comrades looked slightly shocked, as if a children's teacher smashing one of their packmates' skulls in with a mallet was incomprehensible to them. It took them a few seconds to recover from seeing one of their own killed by a 'innocent, naive and peaceful pony', but when they did, they went at her like the rabid dogs they were. Cheerilee was forced to retreat from the snarling brigands; she was no match for them all on her own, but she would fight to her death if it meant saving her students. The screams of the children split the eerie stormy morning as they ran. They didn't get far. The rain fell down around them like a curtain, soaking them down to the bone. Lightning cracked, illuminating their terrified faces. The group had been forced to stop at the edge of a river; it was flowing too violently to even attempt to cross it. As they all stared at the roiling waters ahead of them, the sounds of shouting came from behind them as the dogs closed in. Their faces lit up with each lightning strike, becoming frightening visages of gnashing teeth and black eyes full of bloodthirsty hunger. They edged closer, brandishing their blades as they ran their tongues across their teeth and laughed. Cheerilee stepped in front of them and scowled at them. 

"I won't let you touch them," she screamed. "Don't come any closer, or I'll crack your skulls right open!" 

The dogs looked at one another and grinned. 

"I'll do it!" Cheerilee tightened her grip on the hammer as she screamed angrily. "Don't think I won't!" 

The dogs let out low, deep-throated laughs that were more like barking than laughter. They came at her with glinting teeth and flashing blades as the rain poured down. Cheerilee had no training, no mindset for war, but what drove her into her next frenzy of violence was a combination of adrenaline and protective instincts. Cheerilee swung the hammer around in a circular arc, bringing it slamming into the chest of one of the dogs with a resounding snap. He screamed and lurched forwards in pain, trying to cut at cheerily with the short blade clutched in his paw. She stepped to the side and swung the hammer downwards onto the top of his skull, smashing the dog's conical helmet inwards into his brain. He fell forwards into the muck near the side of the river, unmoving. His comrades snarled and came at her, swinging and stabbing and chopping. Cheerilee caught the first strike on the haft of her hammer. The second strike slashed deep along the flesh of cheerilee's shoulder, leaving a dark red gash that poured blood. The third buried itself deep inside her gut. Cheerilee moaned in pain and gasped for breath as she fell to her knees on the muddy, wet ground. The dog who had stabbed her smiled as he pulled the blade free, laughing to himself. He hefted the blade over his head, baring yellowed and filed teeth. He swung. 

the blade never struck flesh. A loud yell cut through the overwhelming sound of pouring rain; It was Fluttershy. She slammed into the dog with her shoulder as he was mid-swing. The sword cut past Cheerilee's face, mere inches from slicing into her neck. He went over with a grunt and a curse, sliding back into the muck. Cheerilee was coughing up blood, and flecks of blackish red covered the ground where she spat them out. She was bleeding badly; her death was soon, there was no changing that. The other dogs turned to Fluttershy with barked curses. 

"Kill that one! She got filth all over me!" 

The dog was covered in muck. It made him look even more shaggy, unkempt and feral than he had before. He picked himself up and stumbled to his feet. The other dogs all snarled and gnashed their teeth, stepping towards Fluttershy. She didn't falter as they came forward. Bending low, she took up the weapon of the fallen dog and stood between them and the children, brandishing the blade with clumsy hooves. The first dog rushed in, hefting a heavy-looking axe above his head. Fluttershy barely knocked his chop out of the way, smacking the axe to the side with the flat of her sword. She swung back at him, bringing the sword around for a go at his throat. He stopped the blow with the handle of his axe. The sword took out a considerable piece of the handle as the blade chopped into the wood. The axe-dog kicked her hard. She exhaled sharply and stumbled backwards towards the children. She fell onto her back and grunted out. The dog grinned and moved forwards, raising his axe. The glint of murder in his eyes put fear into Fluttershy's heart. As she looked up at the axe poised to come down on her, she saw her death. A low growl came from behind the axe-dog. It was not one of his packmates. Two blue eyes full of rage stared at him through the darkness. He didn't have time to scream before the owner of those eyes took a hold of his head and snapped his neck like a twig. A sickening crackling sound came from the dog as he slumped lifelessly into the mud. Those blue eyes turned to look at the other dogs, fixing them with an insane, murderous gaze. Straight pink hair that was heavy with rain framed her face. The snarl she gave them was all that was left behind the smile she wore everyday like a macabre carnival mask. Her breathing was low and growled, like an animal about to pounce. She leaned down and took up the axe in her hooves. Pinkie Pie might be all smiles and laughter, but Pinkamena Diane Pie did not take kindly to those who hurt her friends… not… at… all… 

***

The guardspony was on them before they could move. The first griffon to face the warrior almost got his spear to bear before he had a hole chopped four inches deep in his skull. The second griffon took a slash under the armpit as he raised his mace, dying instantly as the ex-royal guard's blade cleaved through his ribcage and into his lungs and heart. The next three dogs took a flash of energy from one of the guardspony's hooves. They fell to the cobblestones as they blackened and smouldered. The dark-haired pony was like a whirlwind of death; everywhere that the warrior turned, they fell down dead. But it was not enough. For every one that the warrior killed, two more showed up in his place. The townsponies fell one by one, killed by diamond dog and griffon alike. The warrior saw one fall as his skull cracked open under the club of a diamond dog with a horribly burned face. Another still stood for a second, staring at the javelin lodged in his sternum before he keeled over and turned the street beneath him a crimson hue. They were farmers and bakers and tailors, not warriors; they were fortunate they fought this far. They were armed with crude spears and clubs, pitchforks and shovels. Only a few wore any kind of armor; most wore simple clothes or nothing at all. Only a few hours training by a back-alley brawler had not been enough to prepare them for an onslaught of hundreds of well-armed, well-armored, well-disciplined and well-trained soldiers and bandits. Traps and ambushes would only get them so far if they were fighting professional warriors with peasants and a handful of trained guards. 

Dylan screamed in anger as he literally splattered the head of a diamond dog into thirty pieces with a blow from his hammer. He was mad, in more ways than one. Insanity and bloodlust made a dangerous mix inside his mind, propelling him forwards like a fearless, remorseless killing machine. Left and right he smashed them apart like they were nothing, tearing through the common warriors towards Tanning and his elite bodyguards. He saw the guardspony save Derpy, but he almost didn't acknowledge it. Tanning had taken his friend, tried to kill more of his friends, and decided it was this innocent town that should suffer his wrath. Dylan didn't care if he had to kill for the rest of his life; he would make sure Tanning tasted justice before he died. In this case, justice was a fifteen pound warhammer with the griffon warlord's name on it, except his name would be written in blood. Dylan snarled and howled as he swung over and over, smashing through shield and body with tireless fury. The corpses of those he had slain trailed behind him as if they had been hit by a locomotive. A griffon thought himself brave and decided to charge headlong at Dylan, swinging his poleblade at the bloodthirsty Celt. He swung his hammerhead against the edge of the blade with the strength of five men. The blow crumpled the metal as if it were made of wet paper, along with the top of pole that the blade was mounted on, which broke into splinters. The griffon's arms flew backwards as the force of Dylan's hammer blow sent them jerking backwards. The horrified expression on the griffon's face didn't last long as he caved in the front of the warrior's skull with a roar. One of Tanning's honor guards stepped forwards, gracefully ducking under a blow from the enraged human. He swung down and to the side, trying to cut Dylan open from shoulder to hip. The guard's sword left a two inch deep cut in his chest, which bled for no more than a couple seconds before it knit itself closed in a disturbing, inhuman fashion. Dylan gritted his teeth and swung his hammer into the guard's shield with the clash of metal on metal. The force of his swing nearly crumpled the shield, yet somehow the griffon still held onto it with all his might. The griffon weaved to the side and thrust his sword right at Dylan's chest. Through the pouring rain and thunder, Dylan saw the blow stabbing right at him. He stepped to the side and swung his leg low and around, slamming right into the back of the griffon's legs. The guard lost his footing and went keeling over onto his back, grunting out in surprise. Dylan jumped forwards, slamming the head of his hammer down on the griffon's exposed sternum. The armored plate on the griffon's chest bent inches inwards as Dylan collapsed his ribcage with a yell of anger. 

"DIE, BASTARDS, DIE!" 

Dylan was upon the next one before the griffon whose chest he had just crumpled inwards could let out his last breath. He put all of his force into his next blow as he flattened the side of the next guard's head with a splatter of grey and pink and red.

*** 

Derpy watched as the guardspony continued to cut through the invaders like they were nothing. They fell around her like wheat, collapsing to the ground in pieces. She desperately pulled at her leg, which only made her wince and cry out in pain as she felt the broken bones digging into her flesh. She reached down with one of her front hooves and pulled, trying to dislodge herself from her certain death. The longer she stayed here pinned under this rock, the more chance she had of being noticed and killed where she lay by one of the dogs or griffons. One of the griffons did turn and see her laying there trying to free herself. He hefted a large spiked flail, grinning as he heard the three wickedly-pointed heads of the weapon clink together like some deathly music. He stepped towards her over one of the corpses littering the ground. One of his comrades lay there, his skull smashed in from above by one of the many giant rocks heaved down from the rooftops. He looked at the body and turned back to Derpy with violence burning hot in his piercing green eyes. He ran towards her, screaming at the top of his lungs and raising his weapon above his head. Derpy raised her club and braced for the griffon's attack. He never reached her. The first thing Derpy noticed as he barrelled towards her was that the weight on her leg was gone. The second thing she noticed was the large boulder surrounded by a purplish aura hurtling like a bullet towards the charging griffon. The stone smashed into the griffon with enough force to smash most of the bones in his body. He flew backwards as the few hundred pound boulder rocketed into him, rolling and flipping along the stones of the street until the rock finally landed on him and put him to a stop as it crushed him. Derpy looked down at her leg; She was free. She tried to stand, but screamed in agony and fell to the ground as she put pressure on her ruined leg. 

"Derpy, stay there!" 

She turned to see Rainbow Dash and Twilight making their way towards her. Twilight's horn was glowing with her strange magical light, and it was obvious why when another large boulder lifted off the ground and shot off into a group of diamond dogs, crushing many of them as it knocked them over like dominoes of flesh and bone. 

"It's all right, Ditzy! We'll get you out of here," Twilight said. 

She bent down and lifted Derpy up by the shoulder. Rainbow Dash did the same with her other shoulder and began to help move her. As they were doing this a loud cry broke out from the street. 

"FALL BACK! FALL BACK! GET TO THE TOWN HALL! RETREAT!" 

It was unsure who had screamed this, but it was not Dylan. Derpy saw him plowing through foe after foe, leaving each one broken and twisted on the ground like tattered and bloody ragdolls. It was then that Derpy saw why. Through the storm and the darkness, hundreds of torches burned in the distance, heading towards Ponyville; Reinforcements. Before she knew it, Derpy was being dragged through the street as the militia of Ponyville pulled back under the onslaught of enemy troops pouring into the town. 

***

Dylan smashed another of Tanning's guards atop his skull, crushing his helmet down into his head. Dylan kicked the limp body over and was about to charge headlong into the next one when he heard the yelling. 

"FALL BACK! GET TO THE TOWN HALL! RETREAT!" 

He stopped in his tracks and looked around uncertainly for a second. After a moment, he bolted off in the direction of the fleeing townsponies. The sounds of death came from behind his as the militia that were too slow or surrounded by enemies were cut down where they stood. He could hear their screams as he ran, and he could feel the pull of grief on his heart, yet he had known almost none of them. He would have his vengeance, he thought. They would all get their justice, if he had anything to do with it. 

***

Rarity hid. Spike had insisted she stay as still and as quiet as possible. He peeked around the very corner of the window and watched as the ponies fell back through the streets, dragging wounded and picking up groups of their comrades as they moved. The dogs and griffons came after them and continued to finish off any ponies who couldn't run away fast enough. The enemy forces appeared to be moving towards the house they were in. Most of them stopped a few doors down, but at least twenty of them gathered around outside the house that Rarity and he were hiding in. He leaned back away from the window and glanced back at Rarity curled up in the corner nursing her broken arm. Her crossbow lay beside her, with a bolt on the string ready to be fired. 

"Rarity, we can't get out of here," He whispered. "They're right outside." 

The white-coated mare looked up at him with watery eyes, staring into his own with curiosity and fear. 

"Spike… why…. why are you-" He tensed, and answered before her, looking down at his feet. 

"-A freak?" 

At this, Rarity gasped and shook her head vigorously. 

"No, spike… I… I was going to say 'why are you grown up?'." 

Spike blinked in surprise and looked at her with a mixture of delight and confusion. 

"Grown… up?" 

She smiled and nodded. 

"Yes, Spike. I… what you did… that wasn't something a child could do… you're a stalli-… I mean a big dragon now. I think you look beautiful." 

He raised his eyebrows and smiled. 

"You think I'm-… Rarity, shh…" 

The sound of claws clicking on wood came from the direction of the stairs beyond the door to the room. Rarity tensed and reached for her crossbow, but Spike motioned her not to. He reached down and coated his claws in the pool of blood from the dead griffons. Rarity's jaw dropped. 

"Spike, what're you-" He smeared her all over with the blood before she could finish. 

"This is disgusting," She hissed. 

Spike clasped his hand around her mouth and put a claw up to his lips. 

"Shh…" 

He brushed his hand over her eyelids, closing them. Rarity squirmed for a second, but Spike laid a hand on her chest reassuringly. She stopped moving and lay still, staying as quiet as death. Spike made his way over to a corner, picked up a dagger from one of the dead griffons and stabbed it into his arm. He gritted his teeth and hissed as his blood ran out onto the floor around the crude iron blade embedded in his arm. He let go of the dagger and closed his eyes, slumping back against the wall. The sounds of growled voices entered the room. Spike could smell them. They were bloody and sweaty and coated from grime from the fight, but the rain had left its scent on them like a crystalline freshness on top of the stench filth and death. He lay deathly still as one of them walked right up to him and hissed. 

"Look at this thing! I didn't know there were fucking dragons in this pisshole!" The dog lowered his spear and struck it lightly against the 'dead' dragon's skin. Spike felt the dog tap his spear against his scales, but kept as motionless as the grave. The tap, tap, tap of the dog's spearhead rapping on his scales sent a surge of anger rippling through his mind. He felt his throat close tight, as if he were about to growl. Just as he was, another dog yanked the one with the spear out of the way noisily. Taking the dog holding a spear by the shoulder, he growled in his face. 

"Everything's dead in here. Let's get outside and finish off the rest of em'." 

He jerked his head towards the door they had come in, as if to tell the other one to head that way. The dog looked at the bodies for a moment. He grunted and turned to leave, huffing disappointedly. 

"Damn. Wanted to kill some more." 

The two dogs slinked out the door and headed back downstairs. It was a few minutes before Rarity or Spike dared to move again.

***

(Calamity- GRV Music)

The glint of bloodthirst in Pinkamena's eyes put a chill into everyone; Pony and Dog alike moved backwards in fear. Something had snapped in her, and it would never be fixed again. She ran headlong at the closest dog, laughing the insane cackle of a demented soul. The dog thrust out with his spear, but she danced around the blow and planted the head of the axe between the dog's eye and his cheek, splitting his skull nearly in half. Before the corpse could even fall, Pinkamena howled in laughter again. 

"Let's party," She screamed in laughter. 

One of the dogs rushed in, but Pinkamena ducked right under his attack. She slammed the blade of the axe into his gut and swept her legs into the back of his knee. He fell on his face, only to have the back of his skull chopped open by a second blow from Pinkamena. She slowly turned her head towards the other dogs and grinned. The smile was of one possessed. Her eyes glowed and sparked with a mind-bending energy. The dog closest to her screamed and began to run, but Pinkie pounced on him as he fled and buried her axe in his spine. The other dogs looked like they were going to flee, but a snarl from one of them shook them out of it. 

"Rover'll have our 'eads on feckin' spikes if'n we don' kill 'er! GUT THE BITCH!" 

As if set on fire, they barrelled towards her, snarling and growling and barking. Whatever Pinkamena was saw them coming and just laughed. They nearly got to her when she went up in a flash of bizarre light. She was no longer standing where she had been. The dogs slid to a stop and cried out in shock and confusion. "The fuck she go?!" One of them barked, just before he heard a splattering sound from behind him. He spun to see one of his comrades' bodies floating in midair. It was shredded and crushed, almost unrecognizable. Ribs were curled outwards as if something had burst the entire dog's chest cavity open. His insides hung out of his mouth and from everywhere they could come. Blood dripped down out of the ruin of a body along with every other kind of filth. It was surrounded by an otherworldly glow which seemed to twist and move when you looked at it. It shifted in and out, as if it were disappearing from time and space at random intervals. Standing behind the mangled body was the Pinkamena-Thing. One of her hooves was extended towards the body, and it was glowing with the same macabre luminance. Pinkamena looked right into his eyes and through them into his very soul. She tilted her chin up and looked down at him with an insane twist to her face. Her grin seemed to stretch impossibly from ear to ear, stretching and pulling flesh where flesh should be. Her teeth were not the teeth of a pony now; they were the teeth of a predator. The dog screamed as she tossed the mass of wrecked flesh away and walked towards him. 

"TIME TO PLAY A GAME," The Pinkamena-Thing said as she tore the dog in half with her hooves. The other dogs wailed in horror and cringed backwards away from her.

Fluttershy struggled to stand. She heard the maddening sounds coming from where Pinkamena had gone. She glanced over and her mind almost cracked. Surrounding her friend was an aura of disturbing light which seemed like it was /alive/. That was not the most horrifying thing about Pinkamena. What seemed to hover and follow her body's movements was a transparent ghostly figure; A blunt-faced, crazed-eyed, Shaggy and twisted looking dog. It was more hyena than dog, and it cackled along with Pinkie, ripping flesh from bone just as she did. It was like a second skin of madness, wrapped and coiled around her body. Fluttershy's throat went to scream in horror, but her mind wouldn't let her; It was too shattered for her to even speak. As she stood, she saw some of the dogs had broken off from where the Pinkamena-Thing was busy tearing them apart and headed for her and Cheerilee. Cheerilee was gasping and holding the wound in her side. Fluttershy could tell at a glance that it was a mortal blow. She stumbled towards Cheerilee and fumbled to pick up one of the downed dogs' swords. She gripped it unsteadily in both hooves and stood between the oncoming dogs and Cheerilee. Fluttershy cringed and whimpered, half-shutting her eyes and yelling out. She swung the blade with her eyes closed, but it simply cut through the air in front of the dog. She heard the wet sound of metal passing through flesh and a gasp of pain from the dog. He looked down at the spear ran through his guts. He screamed and his eyes went wide as he stared down at it. Fluttershy turned to see the spear's wielder. She knew with all her mind that it had to be Cheerilee. But the pony clutching the spear in trembling hooves was not Cheerilee; It was Applebloom. 

"You took my sister!" 

She yanked the spear brutally out of him, causing the dog to howl in torment. He took a few unsteady, furious steps towards the little filly, raising his blade as he charged. His body made it to her, but his head did not. Fluttershy panted as she clutched the bloodied sword. She was terrified that she could have even done such a thing, but at the same time… /she would not let them hurt her friends… they would die before they could touch them/. The snarl of a second dog turned her attention away from her thoughts. She barely had time to raise her sword above her head as the dog slammed his mace down on it. She blocked another two swings before she stumbled. He growled and swung again. His mace would have crushed her collarbone, but luckily, she tripped and fell to the ground. He took a stab to the throat from Applebloom's spear and gagged on his own blood as he died. Fluttershy looked down at the body for a second, wheezing and breathing heavily. Her lungs were on fire even though she had been fighting for mere seconds. She turned to cheerilee, who was spitting up blood. 

"Cheerilee!" 

The schoolteacher looked at her, trying to speak. 

"F-Flutter… urgh…shy… I need you to prom- GUH! I need you to promise me… something…" 

Fluttershy's heart seized up in her chest, and tears began to run down from her eyes. This was the first time that she had been this close to someone dying. She propped Cheerilee up with her hooves, which became slick with the blood pouring from her side in mere moments. Fluttershy's voice was heavy and full of sorrow. 

"Ch-Cheerilee… w-w-what is it?" 

Her hooves trembled as she watched Cheerilee lurch forwards in pain. The schoolteacher's eyes were locked on hers. She hacked up a massive gob of blood onto the ground near Fluttershy's hooves. 

"P-Promise me that you'll t-tell… Mac… that I love him." 

Cheerilee moaned in pain and held her stomach, her eyes shooting wide open. 

"Cheerilee! N-No! Don't die! Please!" 

Fluttershy was sobbing now, her tears pouring and mixing into Cheerilee's blood. Sobbing and crying and wailing came from the direction of the children. Applebloom came and laid her hoof on Cheerilee's shoulder. 

"Ah… Ah'm here, Miss Cheerilee…" 

Applebloom choked the words out through sobs. Cheerilee blinked and slowly turned her eyes to Applebloom and smiled like one who had accepted their fate. 

"You'll make a fine mare someday, Applebloom…" 

Applebloom cried into the muck, down on her knees. She threw her arms around her teacher and sobbed into her shoulder. 

"D-don't go… please don't go…" Cheerilee blinked her own tears away and hugged Applebloom back. 

"I… Hrk! I have to, Applebloom… I… I'll wait for you… Make sure… Mac… doesn't fall in love… with somepony else…" 

Cheerilee's eyes blinked. They were heavy-lidded now. Her face was pale and sickly, and her movements slow and weak. 

"Fluttershy… I need you to do something…" 

Fluttershy couldn't speak; her sobbing made it impossible for her to even get out a word. 

"Take… Guh… take care of the children." 

Cheerilee lurched upwards, her eyes widening. She let out a long, agonized moan that went on for several seconds before it seemed to drift away under the downpour. She sighed one final time and slowly went limp in a pool of red. Her eyes closed and her mouth parted slightly as she breathed her final mortal breath. She did not move again. 


Something inside Fluttershy set aflame. It was like the burning of a white sun scorching every fibre of her being, setting her very soul ablaze. Without a word, Fluttershy's wings lifted her off the ground. Her eyes turned towards Pinkie and the dogs. The sounds of carnage loomed ahead of her as she drifted towards the violence. More dogs poured from across the river, fording it and hastily making their way towards the otherworldly creature which was Pinkamena. Fluttershy regarded them all with hatred and a merciless desire to exterminate every last one. Every last shred of mercy or kindness for them was gone. No longer was she the loving, innocent pegasus that could do no harm; she was the agent of justice. Her eyes were filled with blinding, crystal-clear light that seemed to melt away the darkness around her as if it were made of black, cold glass. 

Her mouth opened slowly, her lips drifting apart from one another as a sound built up inside her chest. The sound was a low rumble, growling and furious. It rose above the sound of the rain and above the screams of the dogs as it came up her throat and the sound of it changed. It was no longer a rumble; It was a scream, roared and keening. The sound was piercing like a knife, so loud that some of the dogs got down on their knees and screamed along with it as they held their ears. Fluttershy screamed and shook as she flew towards them with her ghostly eyes glowing and the burning hate in her soul filling her with violence. The dog-troops pouring across the river found their fear in the eyes of Fluttershy. With a howling and a baying, they strode up the riverbank and began to run towards her. The pegasus didn't lift a hoof as they gnashed their teeth and beat their weapons on their shields and charged. She stopped there and hovered in the air as she screamed her soul out to the stormy heavens. The sound of feet and claws running through the mud and the cries of angry warriors built to a fever pitch as they bore down on her. Fluttershy's eyes closed and she stopped screaming. Even with her eyes lidded, the light still shone through and bathed the darkness with its blinding, clear brilliance. 

Fluttershy's whole body trembled and shook violently, twitching as if an electrical current was surging through it. The glow from her eyes seemed to build to an almost celestial radiance, seeping out from the cracks between her eyelids and her flesh and into the dark. Her lips opened again and from them came a bloodcurdling roar of anger that echoed all across Ponyville. The dogs' feet trampled the mud and carried them onwards towards their target, never stopping. Her foes readied their arms to butcher her like the helpless, peaceful pony she should have been… she was not that pony any longer. Her head lowered down to face them as they came to tear her apart like the dogs they were, and as it did, her eyes opened. A supernatural, scratching, roaring sound like barbed wire on glass exploded into reality as the light from her eyes shot forth in twin shafts of pure white energy. The light didn't illuminate the oncoming dogs, but rather incinerated them. Steel and fur and flesh and bone all burned with ghostly, white fire as the beams cut through them like they were nothing. They charred and burned, sloughing meat off of the dogs in massive pieces. They cut and sliced and burned right through, parting them into neatly severed, smoking pieces. Their screams were barely out of their throats for the merest of moments before they perished under the searing energy pulsing and arcing from Fluttershy's eyes. She closed her eyes and stopped screaming. The light faded slowly from her eyes. No longer were they two weapons of merciless death, but they were still two windows to the soul of one whose mind had just been shattered and replaced with a singular desire for retribution. 

Applebloom's heart caught in her chest. The spectral thing moving with Fluttershy flapped its wings and both she and it took off. It was like an eagle, but it was like no eagle Applebloom had ever seen. It was beautiful, but it was not the beauty of something soft and gentle; it was the beauty of a predator, merciless and remorseless. It had three pairs of wings, all of which seemed to be carrying the butter-haired pegasus  with barely a hint of movement. The thing inspired a feeling of holy dread into Applebloom, as if she was looking at something immortal and not of this world. It had a beak and claws of ivory, which were sharpened into graceful, lethal edges that could shear steel as if it were paper. Its feathers were all pointed like needles. They refracted the light that emitted from its body in a blinding scatter that dazzled any who looked directly at it. It had two arms that sprouted from just under its three pairs of wings and two legs that splayed out under it. The limbs were long and thin, but had a graceful power about them, like that of a dancer or a runner. Each hand and foot had four taloned fingers, sharp as the tongue that darted out from its beak like a razor-edged snake. It set its hands down at its sides, as did Fluttershy. It floated on towards those dogs that still lived with a predatory desire emanating from it and rippling through the minds of all that beheld it. Applebloom fell onto her back and tried to drag herself away from it. The thing turned its head for a moment and focused on her with its light-filled eyes. It smiled, showing rows of glinting needlelike teeth behind its beak. Applebloom opened her mouth and screamed. It turned away from her and seemed to laugh to itself.

Pinkamena tore the first dog in half and cackled as she tossed the two pieces aside. She walked up to the next one, who tried to punch a hole in her skull with a war pick. She knocked his arm to the side as he swung and caught it underneath her foreleg, pinning it against her chest. She smiled as she snapped the bones and slammed her other hoof into the front of his kettle helmet and crushed it inwards as he screamed. He went limp, and Pinkamena spun, still holding his body by his arm. She brought the body around just in time for it to take a thrust with a spear from one of the other dogs. She released her hold on the corpse's arm and slammed her hoof into its chest in a kick. The body and the spear-dog with his weapon stuck in it both flew backwards at least half a dozen yards, tumbling through the air before they both slammed back down on the ground and rolled through the muck. A feral diamond dog with a scythe swung his blade right at her head, but she leaned back in a movement so unnatural for a quadruped that it shouldn't have been possible. Bones and muscle and flesh all twisted backwards as the blade sliced the air right above where she had been. The dog looked surprised for half a moment before Pinkamena spun low to the ground and kicked his snout into the back of his head with a kick. The crumpled face of the scythe wielder flopped down into the mud with the rest of his body and leaked out its insides in a gruesome display. 

Pinkamena laughed and her body untwisted itself. Sickening pops, creaks and wet sliding sounds went on for a few seconds before Pinkamena's body seemed to reshape itself. She grinned so wide that you could only see smiling, glistening teeth and her crazed, luminescent blue eyes. It was enough to make one's skin crawl. She raised a hoof and pointed it at a dog who was starting to aim his crossbow at her. The glow around her hoof intensified, and a glow burned around the canine's skull. There was a moist popping, shattering noise as the dog's head exploded outwards in a shower of brain bone, covering his nearby comrades in the contents of what used to be his head. They gaped in horror as the headless body of their comrade stood there for a moment, went limp and fell forwards, spilling blood from its open neck like a faucet. A large cluster of dogs advanced on Pinkamena and struck out at her frantically. She danced and twisted around each strike, her muscles and bones twisting and bending to move her body out of the way of each attack. She laughed and vanished in a burst of light. The dogs turned to see Fluttershy floating in place with her eyes locked on them like pieces of meat. The light surging around Fluttershy seemed to flow and form around her like a suit of armor. It covered her hooves and stretched out into shining talons of supernatural light, needle thin and deadly sharp. She flew into their midst, clawing and slashing and slicing as she went. The screams and death cries of the dogs echoed all the way to ponyville.

***

Rover looked at the retreating ponies in disgust, pulling his weapon free of one of their fallen with a sick, wet sliding sound. Many of them had not managed to escape and flee in time. The street was filled with dozens of bodies, and everywhere he stepped there was the wet sound of blood under your feet. He turned to look at his bodyguard. The tall wolf-dog got up and cleaned his rapiers off on the fur of a dead stallion whose chest leaked blood from two precise, lethal stab wounds. He flourished them skillfully and slid them into their scabbards before turning to his master. He blinked and lowered his head before speaking. 

"Yes, master?" 

Rover quirked his lip up in a smile. He liked being called master; he liked it very much.

"Take some soldiers with you and check on our reinforcements. I'd rather be sure that they're arriving on time, don't you agree?" 

The guard nodded and turned on his heel, waving a group of dogs over to follow him. They stalked off as the rest of the invading forces pushed into the town after the ponies. Tanning was eyeing the fleeing equines with a snarl on his face. 

"Damn them… I wanted that thing. Now we'll have to fucking break down the hall to get in and take him. You, dog." He pointed a claw at Rover, who growled quietly in contempt. 

"Yes, Warlord Tanning?" 

The griffon warrior pointed off with his falchion. "Get sssome of your muttsss to cut down a tree. Make me a ram. We're sssmashing in the fucking doorsss to that ugly, indefensible ssscrap heap. And make it quick, I don't want that abomination getting away!" 

Rover grumbled and nodded, then turned to his men. 

"All right, you lot! Get your damn mangy hides moving and cut down that tree over there! we're making a ram! And make it quick, or I'll start executing the lot of you!" The dogs in question snapped into action, getting axes from their fellows and chopping at the tree. Rover grinned and looked back at the town hall, where the ponies had fled into and blocked themselves in. "Like rats in a trap…"

***

The rat-thing crept through the back streets of Ponyville, ducking down alleyways and climbing over roofs, always staying out of sight. The sound of chitinous claws moving an arachnid body could be heard behind him. His comrade followed close behind, watching from multiple directions with his many eyes. The rat-thing stopped and sniffed the air, then peeked over the edge of the roof. There was a massive crowd of warriors below, both griffon and diamond dog. He slid back away from the edge and signalled to his comrade. The spider-thing grinned with rows of needlelike teeth and nodded. They leapt across silently to another roof, and could hear movement below them. The sounds of dogs moving through the houses could be heard from throughout the street. It scampered and over to another roof as soon as the sounds of movement receded. Yelling of orders below from the invaders told him that they were going to move, and move /fast/. He couldn't take any chances. He had to make sure they got their target before the dogs and griffons did. The sounds of axes biting into wood perked his rotting, ragged ears. He swivelled his milky dead eyes and looked down below at a group of dogs working around a great tree. It was obvious to him that they were making a ram. With a silent growl, he moved into a position high on one of the larger buildings. Rain hammered down on everything, filling the air with its calm and yet somehow unnerving sound. He looked at the hall that the man had fled back to with the townsfolk. His face twisted into a smile; a smile of cold knowing. The spider-thing clambered up beside him and looked at him with a strange expression. When the rat-thing turned to him smiling with rain running down his scarred, tattered, shredded face, his own took on a sinister grin. The two of them thought the same thing: there would be blood.

***

The doors slammed behind Dylan as he came through the doors of the town hall. He was the last one through them, for the simple reason that he craved killing now. He didn't even hide it. There was a powerful, fulfilled look about him as he walked inside, his arm and weapon hand soaked in crimson. 

"Block the doors!" The dark-maned guardspony ordered, pointing with sword in hoof. 

"Block them?! But we'll be trapped in here! They could just set the building on fire," Twilight said with a quake in her voice. She was propping up Derpy with one hoof, and in the other she held her sickle blade. It was obvious that she was not innocent of violence this day. 

"On f-fire!?" Derpy gasped out as she exclaimed, slumping in pain. Rainbow Dash looked down on her with pity in her intense, rose-colored eyes. the shattered ruin of her leg dangled above the floor as she and Twilight carried her into the hall.

"Why should we stay here?" Big Macintosh said with cold squint of his eyes. He leaned on the shaft of his pitchfork, curling his lip and raising an eyebrow quizzically.

"I guess you would rather go back out to the slaughterhouse outside." The guardspony said this coldly and flatly, voice lacking all emotion. Dylan could pick the scars out in the pony's words, scars of pain and of a jaded soul who had killed too many times to count. The scars in the guard's voice were not the only scars the warrior carried; the remains of burns and cuts covered much of the pony's visible skin.

"Ha! You call yourself a stallion? If you're so tough, why don't you go back out there yourself, tough guy?" Rainbow Dash gritted her teeth and waved her sword in the direction of the doors.

"We can't get out even if we did stay out there… they've got us surrounded…" Lyra swallowed back a twinge of fear, adjusting her helmet atop her head with a slightly trembling hoof. With the other, she rested her halberd in the crook of her foreleg. She chewed on her lip and peeked around the edge of a window. A crossbow bolt slamming into the frame next to where her head was was followed by a frightened yell from her and the sound of her body slamming back against the wall as she jumped away from the window. 

"So, you think I'm a big, hard old stallion, do you? Are you saying you have a better idea, or are you just trying to give me a reason to kick your ass?" The dark-haired pony turned to look at Rainbow Dash from through a visored helm.

"Listen here, buddy, if you want some, I've got some!" Rainbow Dash growled and took a step forwards, but she stopped and calmed down a bit when Dylan put an arm between her and the newcomer. "D-Dylan? What is it?"

"Dash, she's right." Dylan said, running a hand down his haggard, unshaven visage. 

"SHE?!" Rainbow Dash's eyes widened as she turned to the pony. 

"How'd you guess?" The guardspony turned to Dylan and flipped up the visor on her helmet. 

Her face was scarred, but not ugly. She had a hard look about her; a look that said "I'll never stop fighting". Her black and purple mane was cut in typical Equestrian military style: short and out of the way. It had grown a bit since her last cut, and a large part of it covered one of her eyes. The eye that was visible was purple, but it seemed to lack color somehow, as if it had been drained away from years of only seeing the greys and reds of war. No humor existed in that grim, fierce face, only a dark satisfaction that he somehow knew was not so different than the bloodthirsty hunger that coursed through him. The difference between her desire for violence was that hers was a cold, cruel, calculating craving for death, whilst his was hot, brutal and wild, like the feral anger of a beast. 

"I'm smarter than I look," Dylan said, working his jaw and looking at the doors. He turned and stared at the ponies just standing around fearfully waiting for something to happen. Their faces were empty, like masks worn over true their real ones. Some of them were crying, others whispering what sounded like prayers to whatever ponies prayed to, if they even had something to pray to. "You heard her! Block the damn doors! Move!" 

His voice snapped them back into focus. They leapt into action, grabbing desks and tables and chairs and cabinets. Overturned shelves spilled books and papers and antiques all over the floor. The mayor stood in shock, a hoof covering her jaw. Two guards were standing by her, holding their spears tightly. The ponies dragged the furniture to the doors and stacked it up, propping it against the floor so that the doors would be easier to break open. The grinding, squealing sound of wood scraping on wood filled the air in the hall as they worked, interspersed with chatter and the occasional sound of something being broken. Dylan turned back to the guardspony and regarded her face with an expression halfway between apathy and interest.

"What's your name?" he asked, stroking his rough beard. 

"It's Dusk Mane," She said back to him, sheathing her sword and slinging her shield onto her back. She rubbed her hooves together and sighed. It was not a sigh of relief or exasperation, but one of someone calming themselves before a conflict. "I hear your name is Dylan." He nodded, turning his eyes to the work at hand. 

"Do you think those doors will hold?" 

"They're all we have, but I'm not sure," She said. She crossed her hooves over her chest and turned around to look. The ramshackle barricade was coming along, but it was obvious that its sturdiness was not its most prominent trait. Piled benches, tables and shelves could only hold back an entire horde of besiegers for so long. "We'll have to make sure they don't get through them... but we'll have to deal with them sooner or later." Her hoof drifted to the hilt of her sword and gripped it with its strange, invisible magical force. Dylan still had no clear idea how ponies could hold, pick up, or carry anything with their hooves; the simplest answer for him was just to put it off as magic. 

Big Macintosh looked around then, twisting his head to scan through the crowd in the hall. He saw many faces he knew, and a lack of many also, but he saw a lack of one face in particular. "Oh, shit." Dylan turned at Big Mac's voice, looking at him with sharp blue eyes. His throat tightened as he spoke.

"Mac? What is it?" Dylan gritted his teeth and looked intently at Big Macintosh, waiting for an answer he was sure he would not want to hear. 

"Where's Rarity?"

Dylan, Twilight and Rainbow Dash all stared at Big Macintosh for a moment, chills running through them. All three of them feared the worst had happened. 

"She's not here?!" Twilight half-screamed. 

"Fuckin' hell…" Dylan placed a hand over his face, and tried to hide the moisture seeping from the corners of his eyes. He had not known her long, and the last thing he had said to her had been calling her a bitch, but he still considered her his friend. He let out a low, growling breath; There was sadness and anger in it both. 

"R-Rarity's outside?! Is she… is-" Rainbow Dash looked strangely sensitive and undetermined now, unlike her usual self. 

"Ah dunno, Dash," Big Macintosh said, frowning. He was sure that Rainbow Dash had been about to ask if Rarity was alive. Mac's bandages were red with his blood, and trickles of it ran down his back and chest, slowly dribbling off of him onto the floor. He had been bleeding from his previous arrow wounds the whole battle, but he had shrugged it off and fought on. Now he was leaning hard on the shaft of his pitchfork, hissing in pain as he tried to fight back the agony in his torn and pierced muscles. "Ah dunno…" 

"Shit. We need some medical attention over here!" Dylan barked, pointing at Big Macintosh and Ditzy Doo. 

Almost immediately, a small group of veterinarians and doctors and nurses rushed forward. Some of them helped ease Derpy off of Twilight and Dash's shoulders, while another two helped Big Macintosh limp somewhat over to a part of the hall that had just been hastily cleared to make space. They laid her down on one of the couches that sat in the lobby and began to treat her leg. Big Macintosh walked over to where they had made room, slowly and painfully. He sat down on one of the chairs there while the nurses and doctors looked him over. He rested his pitchfork against the wall next to him and sighed exhaustedly, then bit his lip and moaned in pain. It was obvious he was in an amount of pain that would be too great for most normal ponies to handle; Big Macintosh was no normal pony. His fight was for his sisters, one captured and the other in grief. His fight was for his grandmother, dead and burned to ash in the ruins of his house. His fight was for his friends, one of whom he thought may be dead outside. His fight was for his home, and all those in it; all those that had sheltered and loved him and cared for him. And his fight was for his love; he would fight for her until he could fight no more. 

Dylan turned back to Dusk Mane, frowning. "How long do you think we can hold them?" 

"With this amount of barely trained soldiers? Maybe an hour." She breathed heavily, once again turning her eyes to the dark, rainy skies outside. The pattering and constant falling of the rain seemed to make everything seem much more peaceful than it actually was.

"What if I give them what they want?" Dylan peered out along with Dusk Mane, blinking weary and angry eyes at the doors of the hall, which were now completely blocked with furniture.

"What's that?"

"Me." Dylan grinned. "But just not how they wanted."

***

The marching of thousands of hooves could be heard across the Equestrian countryside as the army marched. They were so many strong that the ground they had walked upon was churned and trampled under legions of armored hooves. The army moved like a well-oiled machine, spears and shields glinting like jewelled iron as lightning flashed and thunder cracked and rumbled through the clouds above. Every last soldier seemed to march with a singleminded, disciplined purpose that showed just how much discipline had been instilled into them like steel poured into a mould. Each soldier looked ahead with the icy gaze of a warrior, cold and fearless. They were no ordinary army; they were the Golden Legion of Celestia herself. She had hand picked every last one of the hundreds of officers, who she had entrusted to choose and train only the best, the most loyal, and the fiercest fighters in all of the realms of the princesses. They were no simple militia or conscripts or mercenaries; they were honed, precise killing machines. 

"Ponyville nears, my Princess," Said a tall, white maned blue pegasus. "We should arrive at the town on the morrow."

He was dressed in gold- etched white steel armor that looked like it had been passed down many generations to him. It was like a work of art, with powerful muscles etched into the front breastplate, a gold-ringed skirt of armor made of segmented strips, spiked and flanged shoes of polished metal, and finally a gracefully curved helmet with shining gold edging, ceremonial ivory wings, and a long, flowing plume of white rising from the top of his helmet. On his back was strapped a wide, disc-like shield with a golden-painted sunburst emblazoned flanked by two storm clouds emblazoned on the front. He had a long sword sheathed at his side, which on the hilt of he rested a hoof. The sword was a mastepiece; the hilt and guard alone were engraved and embroidered with fine, artistic depictions of pegasi at war, lightning striking down from the heavens upon twisted and monstrous beasts and a sun and moon clashing against one another in the sky. The metal that made the weapon was pure and masterfully smithed; it was smooth and mirror-like; a pure, shining hue unlike the dull greys of iron and the faded silvers of steel. It was curved, but unlike the backwards-curving swords of the Zebra Kingdoms; it curved forwards, the blade tilted ahead of the hilt. His name was General Tempest.

Celestia turned slowly and looked into his dark blue eyes; eyes full of memories great and bloody and terrible, but nothing in comparison to her own. "General, once we near the town, have your Stormwings scout ahead. I want something found."

"Something, Princess? What is it you need found? I've only heard of brigands and raiders, nothing more, your Grace." He shifted slightly on his feet as he walked by her side, giving a quick glance at his best soldiers: The Stormwings. 

The Stormwings were a force of pegasi warriors a hundred strong. They were trained from birth, often having no relations at all to their blood-parents. The most skilled and prized of all the Stormwings were raised from orphanhood, before they could bond with their parents. Those foals whose mothers died giving birth usually grew to be the most skilled, lethal, hardened killing machines in the whole of the Stormings. These soldiers had known no love when they were most in need of it; instead, they were instilled with a loyalty to their commander, to their brothers and sisters in arms, and most importantly to the ways of the warrior. There was no weakness or hesitation to be found in them; it had been crushed, burned, whipped and beaten out of them in their youth, leaving only the hard, calculating mind of a warrior. Their armor was as black as the stormy skies that loomed on in the distant sky. Upon each breastplate was a black lightning bolt between two red wings on a white background. They carried a long-handled, square slashing blade, a quiver full of long, sleek javelins, and a small buckler shield affixed with spikes. Every last one was utterly focused on the objective ahead. They were so focused and disciplined, they even put Celestia's legion to shame with their restraint. They marched on, unblinking despite the rain running down the fronts of their pitch black helmets and cascading down past their grim faces.

"Do you know the old legends, General?" Celestia said this with a hushed, deliberate tone, as if she did not want anyone but Tempest to hear. She looked at him with searching sky-blue eyes, trying to look into his thoughts. Whether that was just a metaphor, or if she could actually read minds was something Tempest tried not to think about as he answered.

"Which legends, your Highness?" He looked at her out of the corner of his visor, still walking ahead alongside his troops. Celestia looked up into the sky. She contemplated for a moment, breathing heavily. She knew exactly what she was going to say, but she couldn't help but recollect what she remembered of these /legends/ that were burned into her mind for the rest of her millennia-long life. "And what do legends have to do with our march out to Ponyville? I thought you were sending us out here to put an end to a force of raiders." 

"Have you never heard of secrecy, General? What the masses do not know cannot bite and gnaw at their minds. We are here to deal with the incursion on Ponyville, and make sure that the Elements remain safe, but there is another matter I must attend to here. To answer your question: the human ones." 

Tempest's eyes widened slightly, and he blinked in shock. It took him a few seconds to compose himself after that. He had heard of the humans, and how powerful they had been. He knew not much about them, but what he did know was dark and bloody. "The… human legends? Are you saying-" You could see the whole of his eyes as they opened as far as they could go; they were full of fear and realization. "That's not possible."

She knew what he was thinking without him saying it. "So was Discord returning, not so long ago. It seems he is not the only ancient enemy that is choosing to swim up from the depths of history and surface to wreak havoc once again. You must not speak of this to a soul, Tempest. If this knowledge were to fall into the wrong hooves… or claws…" Her face went grim and her lips fell silent. They walked on in silence for a minute before Tempest spoke. 

"So, there are humans… in Ponyville?" He said this as a chill went down his spine, spreading a feeling like cold fire through his body as the fear set in. 

"Only one. He seems to have manipulated and deceived a number of ponies into trusting him. Among them are the Element Bearers. Disaster is only a step away when a monster lurks so close to home. My student herself has fallen for the human's deceptions, as intelligent and wise as she is for her age." Celestia frowned, breathing out as she felt tension twisting a painful knot in her chest. "These creatures are dangerous. You can just as easily trust one as a serpent. I've known dragons less greedy than these… humans..." she hissed the word.

Tempest creased his brow in thought as he looked upon Celestia. 

How does she know so much about them? Aren't the legends tens of thousands of years old?

Celestia seemed to know what he was thinking. She turned her eyes to him, looking at him from the corners of her vision. "One does not rule a nation without learning a few things, General. Where you have your armies to lead, I have a throne to sit upon and wait away the centuries. Time makes one's mind sharper with use, and one's knowledge grows greatly when solitude is one's only solace for many a year." 

Tempest assumed she was speaking about Princess Luna's banishment and absence. He kept silent. The two of them walked, trailing alongside the army as it traversed the countryside. They passed by rolling hills, patches of green and brown forest, clear running rivers and rustic farmsteads. It disgusted Tempest that there were beings in the world that desired nothing more than to ruin and destroy the serene beauty of his home. That disgust seemed to turn to hatred in his heart as he thought of Ponyville; at this moment, outlaws and criminals were laying siege to a place he treasured deeply inside himself. He had friends there, and family too; Few knew that he had relatives in Ponyville, and the relatives themselves had forgotten of him long ago. He had not dared return… not after what had happened years ago. 

***
Roughnut watched the hall with an icy look in his eyes, blinking away the rain as it rolled down onto his face. He held his rapiers low against his sides, clenching and loosening his claws around their hilts in anticipation. He had always been good at his job, and he wasn't about to start getting worse.

Rover grinned, showing polished and cruel white fangs. He looked on towards the hall as he and his warriors closed in. They marched in a line of shields, banging their weapons against them in a clamor while thunder and lightning raged and crackled overhead. He looked back at the dogs carrying the ram and felt a gleeful bloodlust pass through him. He looked back at the doors to the hall and laughed.

Bregan silently twirled his morningstar as he listened and watched the dogs and griffons around him chant. His old, greying eyes saw it all with a world-weary jadedness. He lowered his head, looking down from under his brows at the final stand of the ponies. He thought of the thing inside that Tanning wanted, and how it knew where Gilda was. Gilda... he missed Gilda. He missed his lover.

Tanning's world seemed to narrow. It collapsed and shrunk until all he could see was the doors of the hall in front of him. Behind those doors, he would find the way to his sister… to revenge. His warriors were around him with open beaks, roaring a battle cry. One he knew all too well. It signalled the end for their enemies was at hand. He drew his blade, hissing his hatred out at the thing behind those doors. He could taste the blood waiting to be spilled, and he savored the moment, raising his sword into the air and letting it hang there. He locked his eyes forward as he breathed in to scream.

(Zack Hemsey- See What I've Become)

Dylan breathed out slowly. He stood at the front room of the town hall, waiting by the doors. He clenched his fist around his bloodstained hammer. He had been so focused on everything else he hadn't even bothered to clean it. He thought maybe it was more frightening that way. His jaw tightened as he heard what was going on outside. A chill ran down his skin and his hairs all stood on end. The sound in his ears seemed to come from all directions, echoing over and over. It was chanting. The griffons outside were chanting, while the dogs howled and barked and snarled incessantly. The pounding of weapons on shields and the clinking, clanging sound of armor shaking filled Dylan's hearing. The sound was wild and threatening, like a living storm whose thunder was the sound of blades and teeth and steel. This, combined with the storm raging above and all around, made the whole scene deafening. 

Dylan's thoughts seemed to fade away, all words and images escaping from his consciousness. No longer was he the compassionate, kind, fun-loving man that joked with his newfound friends. Neither was he the scared, confused and desperate boy he had been when he had arrived. He was something different now. He felt it inside him, ripping and tearing at his soul, clawing its way out into his being once more. He felt the burning inside, scorching and charring away all restraint, all mercy, all remorse. He heard the howling in his mind, the dark, hellish howling from the deepest darkness. And most of all, he could hear its voice. It's words were dark and growled, like the sounds of a feral animal: Let me out. Let. Me. Out. LET… ME… OUT!!!!!

"Kyaag! Kyaag! Kyaag!" the griffons shouted over and over again. The word was alien to all inside, except for Rainbow Dash. She had learned a bit of the griffon language from Gilda while she still knew her as a friend. The word meant something that made her shiver, made her sweat. The word… was doom. She held her blade in both hooves, sweating and looking around desperately. No matter which way she went, they were there outside, waiting for her. Even if she flew, a storm of arrows would pierce her flesh within an instant. There was no escape for her. "Why? Why is this happening?" Rainbow Dash whispered to herself as she quivered inside, her cocky, confident outer shell gone completely now. 

This isn't you. Escape isn't what you long for, is it, Dash? Your friends stand all around you, and you would abandon them to their deaths? No, you will protect them to your last breath. How many have died to defend you? How many have lost their lives so that you may live? How many sacrifices have been made so that you would not have to make them? Do not fear the dark, for the light burns on, and it burns in you.

Rainbow Dash stood still, her heart pounding hard in her chest. At first she said nothing, simply standing there with eyes that looked straight ahead of her at those heavy doors, and what waited outside. She closed them. She tightened her muscles, preparing for what what would come through them. When she opened them again, there was a spark in them. They glowed with an unbridled resolve, hot and unyielding. Rainbow Dash knew one thing in that moment: "I'm not afraid."

Lyra shifted her weight uneasily, pushing her helmet down to cover more of her face. She stared out at the doors with eyes that had once been brave, but no more. She gripped the halberd in her hooves with hesitation, as if she knew that she was no warrior. She shouldn't even be here, she thought. But then she remembered. Bon-Bon… she couldn't let them get her. Lyra glanced back behind herself and saw her lifelong friend shivering in the back of the hall, holding a spear weakly between her hooves. She was crying, shaking and cowering against the back wall along with most of the other ponies that still lived. Something within Lyra burned at that moment; something powerful. She felt a chill go through her, but it was not a chill of fear or terror, but a chill of anger. She defiantly dug her hooves in, standing tall and raising her head. She felt something echoing inside her mind now: Don't let them get her. Don't you bucking let them. She growled and gritted her teeth, lowering her halberd into a readied position. She stared at the doors as her chest heaved in pent up fury.

Big Macintosh blinked away a tear, shaking his head at the floor. He was kneeling on the ground, shaking as he heard the hundreds of foes outside preparing to storm the hall. His hooves trembled as he leaned forward, outstretched as they held his body up. His pitchfork sat on the floor next to him, forgotten. He groaned in anguish as he knelt there, looking down at the floorboards. His mind was a blur of sadness and regret and self-hatred. Mah… mah family… they counted on me… and I let em' all down… I'm sorry, Granny… I couldn't save you… I couldn't save Applejack… they took her because of me… and… and they almost got Applebloom. Something changed in Big Macintosh. He felt a voice in him crying out, speaking to him with a calming tone. 

You saved her. Don't you forget that, Mac. Applejack's out there, and you're going to just cower and cry here waiting for the end? That's not you, sonny. Get up. Get up and fight. 

"G-Granny?" Big Macintosh went cold and his eyes widened as he spoke. He was too shocked and too astonished to say anything else. 

You heard me, boy. Get up.

He stood up, grabbing a hold of his pitchfork and propping his body upwards. He winced and shuddered in pain as he felt his injured flesh pulling and tearing. He fell back down and hacked out a cough. He felt the thick fluid in the back of his throat and heard the spatter of it as it hit the floor. He looked down at the red spots dotting the floorboards beneath him. He blinked and closed his eyes. He grimaced and shook, slumping back down. 

Don't stop. You're not giving up. Not a chance, sonny.

Big Macintosh gritted his teeth and huffed, pushing upwards again. he felt his muscles burning as they moved, the tendons cracking as they shifted, the wounds stinging as the flesh pulled. But now he didn't care. He growled out and pushed himself up onto his two rear legs. He swung the prongs of his pitchfork in front of him and lowered them, ready to slam them through whatever came through that door next. "For mah' family," Mac whispered as a chill went through him, numbing his pain. "And Cheerilee..." 

Derpy watched as her friends and neighbors gathered at the front of the hall and took up positions with their weapons ready. She trembled and gasped in pain as the doctors working on her leg set the bones with his magic. She looked down and watched with gritted teeth and half-closed eyes as a nurse tied a splint wrapped it with bandages and tied a splint to it. She tried to stand, but the doctor waved her down. 

"No, you can't get up, you need re-" He was interrupted by Derpy raising her hoof up to his lips and bracing against the wall as she pulled herself up. She groaned and stumbled as she put weight on her injured leg, careening into one of the nurses with a grunt of pain. 

"Stand still, we don't want you hurting yourself any more!" The doctor said, just a little too harshly.

"Why, because I'm dumb? Because I'm stupid? Is that what you think?!" Derpy pointed a hoof at him while she leaned against the wall, grimacing in pain and squinting her eyes angrily at him. "Don't you understand?! It doesn't matter! If they get inside, we're all dead!" The doctor swallowed and opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, Derpy walked off on her three good legs towards the back stairs. She approached the nearest pony and with a determined look on her face. 

You're not weak. You're not just the silly clumsy pony they all think you are. You can do this, you know. You don't have to be her forever. This is your chance to show them.

Twilight shivered and twitched as she listened to the sounds outside. They were growing louder… closer. She knew they wouldn't stop, wouldn't think twice about what they were going to do once they got inside. She swallowed and closed her eyes. Her knees wobbled under the weight of her fear. Her sickle hung feebly in one of her hooves, as if it itself was in doubt of what it was about to face. Twilight panted heavily, muttering to herself. "This can't be happening. this can't be happening. This can't be happening!" She was holding her head with her other free hoof as she felt her throbbing temple. She couldn't believe it; so many of the ponies she knew were dead. Dead. She looked up as a long, rolling thunderclap rocked the sky for a few seconds, booming out and lasting for almost half a minute. She looked at the doors and shuddered, swallowing again. "N-no… this… oh, no…" She stopped speaking and her eyes widened as she heard a voice inside her mind.

My child, fear is not the way... Fear will not save you, but your mind will. 

"Wh-who?" Twilight stuttered, her thoughts racing as confusion wracked them.

Who I am is not yet for you to know… Your mind is a weapon, greater than any steel… It cuts deeper and moves faster than all blades forged under the sun. With it, you will fight. Do not fear, for fear is the one thing you cannot afford now. The voice groaned in agony, screamed and became silent.

At first, Twilight said nothing. She just stood there, breathing and blinking in awe. The voice faded from her mind, and she felt it leave. She felt strangely strengthened by it, as if… as if she knew the voice, somehow. It was wise and ancient, like the voice of one who has lived long. She felt sadness at its pain, and took strength from its words. Her home was unclean now, made filthy with the blood of the innocent; she hated that. With two silent word she rose, steadying the sickle in her hooves. "Thank you…"

Dusk Mane did not fear them. She only saw their deaths, only heard their final screams. She smiled with cold, hollow enjoyment on her lips. Her dark eyes blinked, but one of them glowed underneath her mane. She raised her shield in front of her and held her sword at her side, letting out a bloodlust-filled sigh as she stood there waiting. The voice in her head kept talking.

Ah, my little soldier… be a good girl and kill them all for me, would you? Hahahahaha! And make sure you tell them that I sent them, dear. And make sure to get blood all over yourself, it's much more fun that way. Dusk Mane grinned and nodded silently in reply to the voice. Good... GOOD… and one last thing... She stopped smiling for a second and listened. Protect Dylan. She looked over at the tall, two-legged thing with the hammer and the strange hair growing out of his face. She nodded once more. 

"Yes, my master. As you command."

Excellent. Have fun, now. 

Everything suddenly went quiet now. Every last griffon and dog had stopped their howling and chanting. The only sounds were the incessant droning of the rain and the booming of thunder, along with the quiet breathing of all inside the hall. No one dared to move, except Dusk Mane, who raised her sword up towards her head and pushed down the visor of her helmet with the edge. The whole hall was still for a whole minute before anyone dared move or speak. The first one to say anything was Rainbow Dash.

"Ha, are they running?" 

Dylan turned to her with a stony expression. He looked back at the doors. "Not away from us."

"CHAAAAAAAAARGE!" The voice who screamed this word was none other than Tanning's.

The word was answered with the battle cry of two hundred warriors charging headlong towards the hall. The sound of clawed feet and armored talons clicking against the wet stones of the street could be heard rapidly approaching. The roar from the dogs and griffons shook the air, drowning out the sounds of whimpers and crying and pleading from some of the ponies inside. There was a massive crash as something slammed into the front doors, shaking them. Everyone at the doors jumped back slightly, except for everyone who had heard a voice… they stood firm in front of the doors, readying themselves for the onslaught. Again, something hit the doors, which let forth a splintering sound as the front began to cave. The creaking of bowstrings and the sliding of blades from sheaths could be heard again. It slammed into the doors again, bursting through the center of them with a wooden shattering noise. The pointed shape of a wooden ram jutted through the hole. 

"Here they come," Dylan growled as he tightened his fingers around the haft of his hammer, baring his teeth. "Everyone... ready…" 

One final crash rocked the doors before they came falling against the pile of debris stacked behind them. Where the doors had been stood an uncountable number of angry shapes in the dark. The glint of steel could be made out in the torchlight as they pushed forwards with their shields, trying to shove the wreckage out of the way. They yelled out as they rammed and pushed against the pile, glaring at the occupants of the hall with violent intent. They pushed most of it out of the way before some of them began climbing. They clambered over the mound towards their enemy. The dogs scrambled over the top like a wave, clawing and scurrying their way up in a mob. One of the diamond dogs smiled with crooked, sharp fangs and a twisted look in his one faded eye. He laughed as he crested the top. A handful of griffons strode over the top with their shields ahead of them, cold-eyed and fierce.

"FIRE!" Dylan roared, spraying flecks of spittle from between his open teeth as the word rose out his throat. A second after his cry, the air inside the hall above his head was filled with arrows. They streaked into their targets with a chorus of wet thuds, followed by high-pitched screaming and low groans. Bodies rolled off of the pile, crashing to the floor, looking more like porcupines than diamond dogs or griffons. Those who were smart or lucky enough to not have died in the initial volley leapt down off of the pile into the hall rushed towards the line of defenders with war cries rising from their throats. As the first bodies lay still and began pooling their blood on the floor, another horde of them poured through the doors and began ascending the pile. As they did, the sounds of glass shattering and wood breaking came from the boarded up windows as the attackers smashed them in. They began to clamber up through the windows and into the hall. 

The second volley rained upon the charging griffons and the few dogs that hadn't been killed outright. More fell dead, but they were like a tide of teeth and flesh and steel pouring into the building. There was no end to them. The first griffon ran headlong at Twilight, who pulled back her sickle to swing. The griffon's beak was wide, as were his eyes. The blood that was washing off his chain mail from the rain was not that of his own kind. His sword flashed in the torchlight as he raised it above his head and keened a griffon curse at her. He never made it to her. Twilight watched and heard as an arrow whistled through the visor of his helmet and punched right through his eyeball and out the back of his skull. It stopped at the other side of his helm. The griffon fell forwards and slammed down on his face right in front of Twilight, snapping the shaft of the arrow off and driving the rest of it inside his brains. Twilight looked back up from the body and yelled out, turning to the next attacker as she swung her sickle.

Derpy leaned her back against the stairs, panting. She grunted in pain as she reached down with a hoof for something. She picked it up and brought it up to where her other hoof was; It was an arrow. Her other hoof held a bow. She nocked the arrow and moved her hoof to the string, grasping it with the tiny sliver of magic that all ponies possess in their hooves. She drew the string back to her cheek and looked into the melee below. She breathed out and released the string, sending the arrow through the air on its flight of death.




AUTHOR'S NOTE

I'm baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack~