Perspective
A black covered stallion marched on the outskirts of Ponyville, he looked around to ensure none of those twisted Peace-colts spotted him before he ducked behind a bluff. The stallion peered into the Everfree forest from under his fedora and narrowed his eyes... there they are. Two armor covered ponies with spears bared the primary entrance to the forest. A shadow of a smile climbed up his lips and he trotted around a hill to keep out of sight of the two guards. The black drenched pony stayed in the shadow offered by the tree branches of the forest before he froze from one of his soon to be victims letting out a sneeze.
"Pipe down Goldman, We' not supposed to move." Barked his offended pony’s partner, trying to move his mouth as little as possible; while keeping his face forward.
"Not supposed to move eh?" Goldman sniffed. "It's the stupidest bloody thin' I evah heard. What if someone was to sneak up on us an knock us out eh? All they would have to do is come up from behind, you know."
"Goldman, you'r' bein' steupid again." Scoffed the dominant pony, "Wha? You think some stallion is just going to see us standing hea', wal' all the way around the bluff, and creep up behind us, keeping in the shadows of the forest; all for the sake of knocking us silly so tha' he can go in to the forest without us knowin'?"
The Pony in Black smirked at the irony of his plan fully elaborated by the stallion and slammed his hooves into the back of the Peace-colts unguarded necks, sending them cascading limply to the dirt. "You talk too much." He quipped before turning around and leaving their unconscious forms behind to venture into the forest...
The darkness was thick, and the typical sounds of the forests wildlife only added to the uncomfortable setting. The pony pulled out a lantern from his coat and set the contraption to high flame for maximum visibility. It didn't take long for him to trot down the single path that lead to a small hut, owned by a certain zebra. A bright light was coming from the window, giving the pony a good idea that his quarry was home. He killed the flame and left the dead light by the path.
He approached the house, careful to avoid being spotted threw the windows and the partially exposed 'window' of the door. He stood in the shadow of the out awning and perched his ear to the wall. He heard two ponies speaking to one another, one a spoke in rhymes and bore a thick Jamaican accent. The other growled in a forced low and muffled tone.
"You were unfollowed you are sure? If this is a trick, I'll hang you on a lewa'." The unmistakable voice of Zecora proclaimed in distrust.
"Spare me the word tricks, Zacora." Growled the lower and scratchier voice. "And! You would do well to take into consideration who you are threatening."
Shadow released a calming breath, he heard that one of the two was trotting his way and scraped something on the wall. "Of course madam, how may I help you this day?"
"I have just received word from my Mistress," The pony replied, the silent stallion could hear the smile growing on the ponies face as she spoke. "She has informed me to with hold drawing anymore numbers, and that she would take care of everything from here. So you can count on lower count of ponies coming in for your... treatment."
Numbers? Shadow pondered.
"Lowa' count?" Quipped Zecora skeptically.
Shadow closed his eyes to hear the conversation better. Hoping there was some merit to the idea that his hearing would be sharper "Well, you know me. I've never been one to follow rules I didn't like... Especially with him, he claimed he would remain loyal for weeks, but eventually I broke him."
Zecora gasped, "You kept him for weeks? I thought yo' mistress said-" something must have happened, for the zebra did not finish her words. Shadow had to fight the urge to peak in through the window, he wanted to know what was going on, but couldn't risk being caught and maybe having to fight the pair. Finally; the Zebras voice started up again "And what of Ms. Sparkle? She is no fool, and with de' disappearance of her pegasus friend, she will-" Zecora's words were interrupted by a loud thud and grunt on the far side of the small wooden structure.
Another dark giggle escaped the zebra’s accomplice before the front door opened; causing Shadow to kneel down to better keep out of sight. "Don't worry about her; precautions have already been taken to keep Twilight Sparkle pre-occupied for the moment." The dark voice called as a pony covered in a brown cloak with black leggings walked out of the hut and turned to smile at the zebra. "And as far as my mistress goes... What she doesn't know… won’t hurt her." And with that, the pony trotted off into the thick darkness of the woods to return to where ever she came from.
"How did I ge' myself into dis' mess?" He heard Zecora sigh. Shadow lifted his head and peered through the window. The Zebra closed the door and wondered to the far end of the hut, a large table holding up an adult pony with: Light brown hair, a darker brown mane, and an hourglass on his flank. The black clad pony had to squint, but he made out a small vial in Zecora's hoof, she opened the unconscious pony’s mouth and poured the contents of the glass container down his throat, rubbing his jugular to make the mix go down.
The stallion coughed and sat up rubbing his head in a daze. He looked over to see Zacora standing with her hoof hiding the tube behind her back. "What... What happened?"
"When I found you, you were dreaming deep, so I brought you here, for a more comfortable sleep." Zecora replied trotting to one of the many exotic masks she had sitting on the walls and discreetly threw the emptied vial into it. Shadow made a mental not to retrieve it and examine its contents.
"Asleep? The last thing I remember was... ow." The dazed pony grabbed at his head and rubbed his temples.
"You must return home, and get some rest. You may be a Doctor, but Zecora knows best." She helped the groggy Doctor Whooves get to his feet and lead him to the door. She offered to escort him home, but the stallion declined; stating that he was strong enough to get home on his own. Shadow cursed the pony for his decline, denying him the perfect chance to investigate the Zebra's hut without being detected.
"Hmmm," He heard the Zebra ponder. The dark stallion poked his head up to see the formally unconscious pony was gone and Zacora holding the vile she had thrown into the mask. "Should Zecora throw you to the bog now, or lata’?"
The dark pony couldn't let that piece of evidence go, he had hunted her killer for months now. He was tired, frustrated, and angry. In a surge of panic, he crashed through the window, sending shards of glass and wood every which way. Zecora glared at him in surprise; her eyes growing from bewildered to frustrated. "You."
The Pony in Black's eyes became slits. "Give me that vial." He growled, baring his teeth.
Zecora gave him a questioning stare than looked to the glass container, a knowing smile creeping on her face. "Ohh..." She smirked and glared evilly before tossing the item back into the mouth of the mask. "Why sho'd I? I don' even know who yo' are."
The pony in black let out a scoff. "Don't play games with me."
Zecora dropped her charade and watched the intruder with an amused expression. "Well, i neva' expected fo' yo' to find me heah', Cynic. I’m curious as to ‘ow you could have known."
Cynic trotted around the caldron that stood between the two. Zecora moving opposite him to keep the distance. "You're not the one I'm here for." The stallion proclaimed eyeing the witch doctor while moving closer to the mask that held his prize. "Where does she keep them?"
The stripped pony shrugged, "It'z not my problem what she do with them once dey' are gone from my care."
"Not them." Cynic growled, taking his place in front of the mask and eying the foe. "I'm referring to those who never make it to you."
Zecora shrugged again. "'Ow should i know? I only do what she tells me." Zecora teased before her smirk turned into a thoughtful glare, her gaze shot between the mask and the intruding black clad stallion.
The two exchanged quips about Cynic's past failures to capture the ponynapper. Zecora kept the conversation going to distract the pony in time for her to find something she could use as a weapon against him. Once the aggravated Cynic dismissed her ramblings, the zebra yanked at his heart stings in a desperate attempt to keep him from his objective; and it worked. Cynic withdrew his unoccupied hooves from the masks mouth and shot a hate filled glare to his antagonist.
"Yes, Cynic Kilimare." Zecora grabbed a medium sized ritualistic stick from under one of the lower shelves and kept it from sight. "I was der', i smiled as she was murdered and broken."
Cynic's ears twitched. He knew what the cad was trying to do, but he couldn't help but take the bait. Too long had he pushed the thoughts out of his mind and denied the emotional pain it caused. And too long, had this wench spoken ill of his lost. "Watch what you say wench." Cynic threated, his mouth in a sneer. "Think I have any reservation about stomping your throat. Go ahead; you'll only do it once."
Zecora's smile grew, "Is 'dat supposed to sca' me?" She laughed and began to wonder slowly around the caldron to the trespasser. "den' go ahead, we will see which of us had made de' mistake." Her last words mocked his threat.
Cynic began to walk to the stripped pony when he noticed her left forehoof was being kept deliberately hidden behind the cauldron. He quickly drew a dagger from his coat and clenched it ready in his mouth.
The zebra stopped in her tracks, she observed the fine, curved blade in the stallion’s jaw. She let out a sardonic laugh and continued her provocation. "Wa's wrong, Mistah' Kilimare? Are you truly so afraid, 'dat you mus' draw a knife on me?" Zecora closed her eyes and shook her head. "Tisk, tisk. it pains me to imagine what she would think, seeing you like 'dis"
Cynic shook with rage, he wanted to hurt the sadistic mare, he wanted to dig his knife into her throat and splash her blood on the walls. The haunting memories of her headless and mangled body being pulled from the tainted lake, the missing, jawless head found in his mailbox, covered in thin cuts all around what was left of her face. Cynic snarled, it took everything he had to hold himself back. The poor mare, she didn't deserve what happened, she was one of the most timid and likeable ponies anyone could have met.
"Would you like to know about how she begged fo’ death?" Zecora teased taking another slow step towards him.
That was it, Cynic leapt to the zebra; his knife swinging for her bare neck. Zacora easily ducked the blade and threw her hoof at the black clad stallions face. Cynic's head snapped sideways as rush of pain and disorientation consuming his vision. The stallion recovered and beheld the wooden scepter in the zebra's mouth.
Zecora slammed the stick down onto Cynic's head; the stallion rolled left and struck at his enemies ankles. The zebra hissed in pain before losing her balance and falling to the floor, her wooden ritualistic staff leaving her mouth and rolling out of reach. She leaned down and inspected the crimson fluid that ran freely from the cut. She tried to get up but found the offending blade was now at her throat, with Cynic at the handle.
The brown stallion pushed the dagger against Zecora's throat. "You kir'ed-." he proclaimed his last words to muffled to make out. He sunk the speech slurring wedge of steel down, causing the zebra's flesh to indent from the pressure; small amounts of blood beginning to escape.
"I- I di' not" Zecora replied, her words becoming muffled by Cynic's weight on his blade. "I nevah' touched ha'."
Cynic hesitated; he wanted to spill her blood in the name of avenging his dead loved one. The feelings of absolute hate and contempt; were the only feelings he had left that pertained to her. All the guilt and sorrow had festered and grown into these emotions. All the love and happiness she had taught him were cast away. He wanted to keep a hold of the strength the dark feelings brought; he felt it would be appropriate to use that strength to end the pony who stole his life away from him... He didn't want to waste his hate on a pony that was not responsible for it.
He spat out the knife and rose his hoof. Zecora covered her head with her forelegs to protect her skull from the blunt of his stomp. She coughed dramatically and gasped, after Cynic slammed his leg down into the mares stomach, he watched as she sat; eyes wide and trying to catch the breath that was knocked out of her. The intruder put all of his weight into his hoof and began twisting, causing the zebra to groan and rive in agony.
"I want you to listen." Cynic seethed lightening his leg, thus allowing the zebra to breathe again. "I am going to ask you a very simple question. And all I want is an even simpler 'yes' or 'no'." He replaced his weight on Zacora's stomach and began to twist; digging his forehoof upward into the helpless pony’s diaphragm. She wheezed for mercy, her eyes beginning to roll into the back of her head.
Cynic eased off on the pressure again, but kept his leg firmly in place bellow Zecora's chest, ready to dig back in if he heard something he didn't like. "First off, are you the one responsible for her death?" His eyes gazed into her own, unblinking and violent. He observed the Zebra face grew more fearful of his sight than of himself. Finally the mare caught her breath and welcomed the now satisfying oxygen her assailant allowed to her.
"No..." She shook her head. "No, I didn' kill ha'." She whispered before the Pony in Black pushed back on her stomach for balance and drew is face inches from hers. His hateful scorn enveloped her mind, the smell of smoke emitting from Cynic's breath made the mare grimace.
"Sorry, I couldn't hear you." He twisted his hoof back into her chest cavity causing the zebra to wince in pain once more. She tried to use her legs to push the assailant off, but to her surprise; her limbs were all unresponsive to her command. Cynic couldn’t deny he was enjoying the pony’s pain. It brought him a sweet satisfaction knowing he was hurting, at least, the accomplice to the individual who he loathed so.
"NO!" Zecora shouted trying to expand her lungs under Cynic's hoof. "I didn't kill her." She annunciated, wheezing. The stallions eyes glared for a time, he allowed her reprieve again, and the mare took in a heavy few breaths. Zecora looked back to find her enemies eyes were wider, and his retinas were violently shaking while keeping her in his direct line of sight. After a few long moments he blinked again, and pushed his face away from the Zebra.
"Glad you told me the truth." Cynic smiled and gave the mare a bit more room to expand her lungs. "Now, my second question: Who is the one carving all the cutie marks out of ponies, and distributing them to their home towns?" He demanded, glaring again into Zecora's eyes. He saw it, he saw her eyes changing: the desperate but honest look she held turned fearful and scheming. The stripped mare claimed she didn't know and Cynic shook his head and dug his hoof back into her stomach.
Zacora opened her mouth to scream, though a pathetic moan was all that emitted from the compressed ponies lungs. She fought back the tears that the assailant’s offending forhoof brought. She could feel her organs beginning to become irritated from the constant assault, her heart painfully slammed against her chest with every beat. A black fade began to take hold of the mare's sight. The stripped pony could feel her body slipping into numbness; only to have her pulled back to consciousness by a hard slap to the face.
"We're not done yet." Cynic scowled lifting his hoof slightly. Zecora took her breaths again, she couldn't stand it anymore. The constant pain, and the frustrating lost mercy of sleep; the leeway of Cynic's hoof on her chest was only enough to keep her awake and focused before the stallion would crush her organs again, and bring the maddening discomfort of breathlessness. The black clad pony watched her with an expectant dead pan, his eyes giving rapid though short bursts of small movement.
Zecora, desperate for the body crushing force to end, exposed the pony responsible for the abductions and desecration; confirming what Cynic thought all along. His eyes stopped shaking before he looked down, and he let out a soft sigh. "So, it really was her." He removed his hoof from the zebra's chest, and walked past her unruly form. Zecora took in gulps of breath; her gasping fully audible.
After a minute of sucking the air into her body, Zacora regained small amounts of feeling in her limbs and began a slow attempt to stand. Cynic snapped from his thoughtful trance and turned his cold gaze to the zebra. "Going somewhere?" He asked, turning to face her.
"I gave ya' de' truth." She cough, blood sputtering from her mouth; the soreness of her chest stinging every time she inhaled. "What more do ya' want?"
Cynic thought it over. Now that he had confirmation on who it was that murdered all of the ponies, he could easily find her alone and serve the justice She deserved. On the other hand, he thought; he would still be the Peace-colt's #1 most wanted. If he found the evidence and exposed the killer for who she was, he might have the chance to live out the rest of his days in peace.
Cynic's eyes trailed to the floor in thought, leaving the demoralized Zecora to gather her wits. Then again, did he want to live anymore? After his loss, Cynic had contemplated death for so long, he spent many sleepless nights dwelling up the relief it would give his grief stricken heart. Without her here with him, life seemed so empty and frustrating. He lived simply to kill the wretch responsible for his misery; would killing her bring him the peace he wanted? Or would he simply spend the remainder of his days in isolated self loathing, wishing he hadn’t left, and knowing that he could have saved her.
"End her as well!" A small voice in his head hissed, "she sat by and watched as it happened, kill her! She deserves it."
A scraping sound from behind caused Cynic turn his head, a painfully force struck his face sending him off his bearings. He fell to the side after knocking his head over a bookshelf that happened to be in his way. He lifted his head in a haze of dancing color to find Zecora standing over him on wobbling legs. "I'm surprised 'dat didn't knock ya' out." The intruder attempted to stand, only to have his neck pushed down by Zacora's hoof. "Any last word, colt?"
Cynic regained his wits, and angled one of his back legs under the book shelf. "Actually, one." He looked to the still winded Zebra, his words genuine and curious, though he was only buying time to check the weight of the book holder. "Why do you do it?" He wedged his leg up to find the case was heavier than he thought.
Zecora smirked at the question, placing more pressure on the fallen stallion’s neck. "I guess i can answah' one mo'e question before I kill you." She leaned her mouth down and nipped at his ear, causing the dark pony to shiver from awkwardness; but it did get his attention as she quietly whispered: "I need der' blood." Cynic turned his head to see the zebra's smile.
"What?"
Zecora smirked, licking up a little crimson fluid Cynic just noticed was trickling from under his eye. The zebra seemed to relish in the metallically flavored substance before she gave him an evil smile. "Back in my land, we ‘ad a ritual to appease our gods wit' de' hearts of ah' enemies." The zebra's ears fell back, a hurt look claiming her face. "All dat' time wasted, they showed me no favah', but now-"
Cynic didn't wait for her to finish. Though it was heavy enough to cause his leg excruciating amounts of pain, he used his angled limb on the wall to levee the book case over onto the two of them. Zecora gasped at the acknowledgement, Cynic felt the pressure ease off his neck and bucked his hind legs at the striped mares own. She fell onto the ground by him, and they both rolled away from each other; allowing the bookcase to fall without any damage done.
Cynic stood up and cracked his neck. He heard Zecora's hissing from behind the new obstruction, he looked over to see her grabbing the wound he inflicted with his knife. The zebra shot Cynic a hate filled glare, only giving the intruding stallion a reason to smirk. He wondered around the cauldron and drew his knife from the floor; placing it back within his coat. "I will say this once." He finished the circle to find Zecora standing on her three good legs, her fourth hanging limply. "Fuck with me again," he smirked, "and you're 'gods'; will drink from your skull."
Walking back to the mask, Cynic took one last look at the zebra to find her face contorted in a look of pain and loathing, though besides that, her figured was unmoved. He reached into the mask and grabbed the tiny vial. "Thank you for your hospitality." he quipped before the dark pony kicked open the door and wondered back out into the woods.
-----
Zeocora slammed her hoof onto the floor, she cursed herself for allowing him to leave. She closed the door and checked to make sure the dark stallion was nowhere in sight. After securing the way in, the stripped mare laid herself on the table that Dr. Whooves occupied only fifteen minutes before. "Ah," she winced, giving her leg a once over. Nothing broken, but defiantly something that could get infected if not properly tended to.
After grabbing small blue bottle, she sat down to drip the contents onto her wound. "Zecora!" A voice barked from outside. The mare turned to find the brown cloaked pony from earlier. "I have to say, I am disappointed."
Zecora felt a twinge of fear shoot up her spine. "h- how much di' yo' see?"
The brown cloaked pony walked further in, "I saw enough to know where your loyalties lie..." She replied holding up Cynic's lantern and placed it on the table next to her.
"Mistress, i uh..."
The new pony held up her black covered hoof to silence the zebra. "Don't worry Zecora." The smiled, using her left hoof to turn on the gas of the lantern as high as it could go, while using the right to pull down her hood, revealing a frilly pink mane and, knowing blue eyes. "It's like I always say. Life is a party."
The pink mare slammed the lantern onto the wooden floor, immediately combusting and lighting the tinder ground aflame. Zecora screamed, and moved away from the exceedingly growing fire, apologizing furiously to Pinkie Pie. Pinkie only giggled and shrugged as the flames spread a crossed the floor, crawling up the walls in seconds. The Zecora desperately pleaded and begged Pinkie for forgiveness, proclaiming she would never let it happen again. The party mare's smile dropped before she closed her eyes, shook her head in disappointment and walked out of the burning hut; leaving her stripped underling to perish in the flame.
"Life's a party,” Pinkie spoke, trotting away merrily as Zacoras screams echoed throughout the forest before the wooden ceiling collapsed in, ending the zebra’s frantic screams for help, “and you aren't invited."
(A/N Oh hey look, a story about carving out cutie marks, missing ponies, a missing Rainbow Dash leads up to Pinkie Pie... Oh my, who saw that coming? yea, I know not to many people read this story, and even less read the Authors notes. However, I just feel like saying: Thanks to those who do read.)