//------------------------------// // Only a Deus Ex Machina can save us now! // Story: Principal Celestia Hunts the Undead // by Rune Soldier Dan //------------------------------// Crystal Prep still crowded the gym doors. They pushed, punched, and had even brought up battering rams, all to no avail against the wall of grey blubber blocking the way. Inside, the rest of the mass could be seen as the tremendous were-manatee named Fluttershy, lounging against the doors in her animal form. A short ways behind her, the other students slowly caught their breath after the frantic struggle. Their surprise at the transformation soon morphed to relief at their salvation. Then, as the long minutes ticked by… boredom. “So… how’s it going?” Twilight asked hesitantly, thoroughly unsure of the proper way to address were-manatees. “They sound pretty violent out there.” Fluttershy shrugged with her flippers. “Barely feel it. I’m more worried about you all.” “Whad’ya mean?” Applejack asked. The manatee’s blue eyes looked down and away. “You guys must think I’m a monster. If you’re scared of me and want to stop being friends, I’d understand.” “Fluttershy!” Rarity said in a scolding tone. She stepped in close and gave a hug, which in Fluttershy’s present from entailed awkwardly pressing to the bulk. “None of that. We’re friends now, friends forever!” The others followed suit. “Scared of a manatee? My Granny’s a ghost, you silly fishie!” “Pinkie, Manatees are not fish,” Twilight corrected. “But Fluttershy, really. Of course we’re still friends.” “Seconded,” Applejack added. “Besides, sugar, you’re adorable.” Rainbow nodded. “Yeah. And super-fat.” Fluttershy gave an impotent jiggle of her body. “Yeah, thanks Rainbow. I hadn’t noticed.” Rainbow reddened as she processed her own words, moving on quickly. “Anyway, you’re like, even more harmless than usual, so be chill. Nothing to be afraid of. I mean, except for the zombies and vampire outside.” “Rainbow, shut up.” Once more the brain caught up, and this time it kept pace. Rainbow leaned into the hug, and nuzzled against Fluttershy’s whiskers. “Sure thing, Flutters.” Principal Cinch stood well back from the siege, watching as her minions struggled with the grey wall. Her intervention could blast it aside easily… but really: why? The students within weren’t going anywhere, and they were bound to break eventually. If not from here, than from the school entrance or windows. Things were sure to get violent at the end, but what else were minions for? The infected students now served a greater cause than they ever would after, preserving a reputation as fine as Crystal Prep’s. They should thank her for the opportunity, though of course they wouldn’t. Lousy brats. More to the point, one hunter was still unaccounted for. Cinch didn’t have a strong appraisal of Celestia’s numbers, but the veteran Miss Harshwhinny was certainly on the list. The hunter surely had some last gambit in the works, and with the students besieged, she would have to act soon. The realization made Cinch paranoid. She called her instincts to the fore, stretching every sense in a burst of hunted awareness. For a few mad seconds, she knew nothing, but felt it all. Cinch smelled the gunpowder from the roof of Canterlot High. She saw the glint of the rifle, hissed, and dodged with unnatural speed. One minute earlier. “Miss Luna, you’re leaning too far over the railing. She’ll see you.” Luna was not in the mood. “Do you want to do this?” Nagatha Harshwhinny didn’t blink. “Yes.” “Tough cookies,” Luna snapped. She leaned a little further over the school’s rooftop, tracking their target through her rifle’s scope. “The angle sucks, so it’s this or nothing.” Miss Harshwhinny arched her nose. “With proper skill, one can remain concealed even when aiming straight down. Miss Celestia has a talent for it.” “I know,” Luna ground through her teeth. “So rest assured, I’m perfectly aware it would be better if my sister was here. We wouldn’t even be in this mess. She would have had a perfect plan that would have gone off perfectly, saving the day again because she’s just so fucking smart and talented.” “Miss Luna, if you wish to convert me to the belief that you are an emotional adult, overt displays of jealousy are a poor way to go about it. Especially with how misplaced they are here.” “The hell do you mean?” Luna blew a low breath from the side of her mouth. Her scope found the top of Cinch’s hair, but that wasn’t good enough. Vampires needed heart-shots, not headshots. Without a long arm of her own, Harshwhinny fingered her pistol as she spoke. “I doubt we would have fared better with Miss Celestia. This situation is unprecedented for any of us, and I don’t think she would have formed a more compelling plan.” Luna shrugged around the rifle. “Yeah, but if she was here at least we wouldn’t have wasted that time arguing.” Harshwhinny matched the shrug. “True. However that is less about her strength than our weakness. We’ve relied on her leadership so long we don’t have much chain of command beneath her.” “Of course we do,” Luna snorted. “It goes her, everyone else, then me.” “Self-pity is not endearing either,” Harshwhinny said primly. “If you wish to not be treated like a child, perhaps you shouldn’t behave like one.” Luna grinned without humor as her rifle tracked the moving head through the parking lot. “Yeah, because Iron Will and frickin’ Redheart are shining examples of mature adulthood.” “But they pay their own rent and pack their own lunch,” Harshwhinny retorted. “They have accepted the responsibilities of adulthood, whereas you effectively live in your sister’s basement.” “I have literal psychiatric issues,” Luna noted. Harshwhinny shrugged again. “That is no excuse, I think we all do. But the government has cut funds for mental health, so instead we hunt vampires.” “Aaaand there’s the chest.” Luna smiled grimly. “To be continued. Hello, Cinch.” She squeezed the trigger, discharging the rifle with a sharp retort. “And goodbye, CiSHIT!” “She dodged!” Luna shouted, quickly working the rifle’s bolt. The old casing flew away and she fired again. Then one more time, with its noise drowned by a bat-winged shape hurling upwards. The shape caught the muzzle of the gun, sending it and Luna spinning backwards. While Luna grunted and struggled to her feet, Harshwhinny watched the wings carry its burden to land next to them. With a final flap, they turned back into the cape now settled on Cinch’s back. Harshwhinny leveled her revolver and cocked the hammer. “Miss Cinch. I hope you are prepared to die.” “I don’t,” Luna added, bracing her rifle. “I hope you’re completely unprepared, and that your death is traumatic and terrible. You deserve it.” Cinch gave no response, nor offered any wit of her own. Her face was angry, and devoid of even the cruelest humor. She released an indignant sigh, muttered, “I am done with you fools,” and charged. Two guns barked at her approach. Only Harshwhinny’s found its mark, pumping a silver bullet through Cinch’s lung. An inch from the heart – an inch too far. Cinch connected with Harshwhinny, and the two began to grapple. Miss Harshwhinny had an athlete’s build and soldier’s skill, with neither yet diminished by her forty-four years. She had even brawled with vampires and triumphed, but never against one like Cinch. Harshwhinny was fast – Cinch was lightning. Harshwhinny’s sidestep spared her neck the charging claws, but it did not spare her revolver. The gun flew from her grasp, and Harshwhinny retaliated with a closed fist to the vampire’s temple. Harshwhinny was strong – her foe was iron. She let a hard, reluctant groan slip as her tan knuckles broke at the impact. The groan was more than just pain. She knew what came next. She wrestled as hard as she could, out of stubbornness and pride. Cinch’s lightning speed countered Harshwhinny easily, and her strength brought the history teacher aloft in her grasp. Without word or second look, Cinch hurled the wounded Harshwhinny ten feet, over the railing and off the roof. All this happened before Luna could lever the bolt for a new shot. She completed the task with panicked speed, but couldn’t even aim before Cinch was upon her. The rifle discharged with a last desperate effort, hitting nothing but sky. A dismissive slap crushed the weapon in Luna’s grasp, and cold fingers grabbed her collar. A hoist and a yelp carried her upwards, and over the roof’s edge. But Cinch did not drop her. Not yet. With her legs dangling above a three-story fall, Luna watched the stern woman regard her as if pondering a question. It only lasted a few seconds before Cinch spoke, her thoughtfulness replaced with an indifferent frown. “Hm… infecting you would be worth it. It would help to have a vice-principal support the coming testimonies against Celestia. But no, you are her kin, and it will give me immense pleasure to purge her bloodline from the world.” The decision made, she gave one brief nod. “Any last words?” Luna glanced down, and spat to the ground beneath. She grinned and locked gazes with the vampire. “Yeah. When we cut off your head and burn you at the crossroads, we’ll take your ashes and stick them in the trophy we got from winning the Friendship Games.” The now-familiar twist of rage came to Cinch’s face. But this time, it cooled back into her usual frown. She gave a slight “Hmph,” and pulled Luna back from the edge. Abruptly, before Luna could even think to question the move, Cinch’s hand around her collar shot forward once more. Luna’s back hit the railing and kept going, doubling her backwards over the rounded steel. Something cracked horribly at the impact, bringing a dead numbness to her legs. There was no pain, but Luna hissed as Cinch righted her from the slam. The old vampire held her steady, and as Luna looked, she saw no victory on Cinch’s face. Only the stern frown of an impatient principal. “Celestia is dead.” Luna’s hand had dipped to her holster. “So are you.” She was a fast draw. The only one faster was Cheerilee. And, of course, Celestia. Not faster than Cinch. Her free hand caught Luna’s, keeping the half-drawn pistol aimed well away. Her iron fingers wrapped around their nemeses, squeezing tightly enough to bring Luna pain. Then… tighter. Pain-wrought tears came to Luna’s eyes as she struggled to wrest from the grasp. At first to bring the gun on Cinch, but then to pull away, or even drop the pistol as the vice closed tighter still. Tighter. Luna finally cried out, bringing not even a smirk to Cinch’s face. Tighter. A dozen tiny snaps filled the air. The cry turned to a long, wet shriek that heralded the end of Luna’s strength. “Perhaps you think reinforcements will arrive in the nick of time.” Cinch lectured, even as the scream went on. Never did she loose her grip on the collar, or the crumbling hand. “Perhaps you hope your mighty determination will give you the strength to defeat me. Maybe you’re even praying for some insipid Deus Ex Machina to save the day.” Tighter still, though this brought no increase to the pain. “No. I don’t know what fairy tale you pulled your cheating magic from, but we both know how the true stories turn out. Heroes are absent. Maidens go unrescued. Help comes too late. You scream, you struggle, and you die without meaning. This is the way things work on Earth, but take heart. Your sojourn here is at an end.” Luna’s eyes were already closed, and her senses had mercifully followed suit. The feeling of Cinch’s flat hand ramming through her chest was a distant, neutral one, barely noticed before her mind fell to black. Luna wasn’t quite sure when she regained consciousness. It wasn’t a sudden, obvious moment of wakening, but rather a blurry wobble between the two ends. She blinked at the grey sky above, at once aware she had been staring at it for some time. A feeble tilt of the head took her gaze to her body, only to turn away with the first glance. Luna scrunched her eyes closed and let her head fall back to the concrete roof. Her mouth twisted to a smile. Man. Is this what I’ve been doing to people? The humor was real. Ennui, social isolation, and a traumatic past had blessed or cursed Luna with indifference to her mortal coil. While the last few months had been good ones, death had its own bright side waiting for her. No more nightmares, loneliness, or bouts of depression. Consolation prizes to a very bad thing, but the simple fact was that optimism was all she had left. Death always won in the end, and in Luna’s line of work, this was the way it came: a monster’s teeth or claws. Cinch. The smile fled, and Luna trembled – partly from the ever-shrinking amount of blood left in her, and partly from anger. Rage and regret blew down the cynical wall in her mind. She hated this. It wasn’t okay. It wasn’t ‘just the way of things.’ Against any other monster, any one at all, she could accept her fate. But not with God-damned Principal Cinch. Doing this for the Friendship Games of all things. Luna opened her eyes. Realized she wasn’t breathing, but didn’t feel the urge. She just felt numb. Dead. Luna ignored the thought and tried to rise. Couldn’t let Cinch win. Couldn’t let it end like this. She had no sense of time. No idea how long she spent trying before she realized she hadn’t even twitched. Cinch was right. This was Earth, not Equestria. Friendship, determination, hope… feh. Poor substitutes for an excavated chest. Luna couldn’t accept Cinch’s victory, but who cares? She ceased her struggles, letting her eyes close again. With no breaths or noisy thoughts in the way, Luna heard something. There were distant shouts and sounds of violence, but this was closer. A sharp, heavy tapping on the concrete next to her. Like steel footsteps or horseshoes, growing closer. Luna looked – or at least, tried to. Her vision was wobbled, grey, and blurred to near-uselessness. But it could make out two forms coming to a stop above her. A huge, shaggy horse with a massive horn on its forehead, and a dark-skinned human standing beside. The human spoke in a low, melodic voice. “Your damaged form, I do espy, But with his help you shall not die.” Luna’s last unaided breath left her in a rush. “Zecora you chucklefuck, we could have used you earlier!” “Your thanks, it warms my tender heart. Now shut your mouth and let him start.”