//------------------------------// // Chapter 62: The Definition of Insanity // Story: A Long Way to Fall // by Cinders of War //------------------------------// Morning Blade returned to Canterlot High School again the next day at about eight thirty. She hadn't been able to sleep all night. Telling the past of the Trottingham bureau brought back painful memories for the ex-Assassin, and it really didn't help her sleep. She still pictured the friends she had made, the close ones, in her last memories she had of them. Frigid Night, Dewdrop, High Noon, Patch, even Mentor Steel Shine. They had all died fighting for what they believed in. They died preserving the way the world worked, which wasn't complete domination with a single person on top. The world wasn't meant to be controlled by a single person. It was just too much power to give to just one person. Morning clenched her fists as she waited by the statue for Princess Twilight. Today was going to be another long day, but it was going to be worth it, just like all the previous days. Frigid deserved having his story told. In the last days of the Assassins, Frigid had been insulted and shunned, and Morning felt like only she really knew the truth behind him. He wasn't a backstabbing traitor. He was just a confused and anguished Assassin. If the things that happened to him happened to anyone else, she was sure they'd do just the same, though at times, Frigid did make some bad choices. But he wasn't the one to blame. It was that witch, Mirror Match. Morning Blade was thankful Velvet had put her in the ground. After everything she had done to the Brotherhood, she deserved to die. There was a shimmer at the base of the statue and Twilight Sparkle hopped out, taking a few steps to steady herself before dusting down her blue shirt. "Phew, sorry I'm late, Morning Blade. Spike forgot to set my alarm clock." "It's fine, Twilight, really. I can wait a few minutes." Morning Blade chuckled. "Shall we?" "Yup. Let's go. I... don't exactly pack a coat for this." Twilight rubbed at her arms. Morning Blade led the way back inside, already pulling her notebook out of her bag. There was still so much to tell. One week later Sparkplug didn’t like it any more than his two guards by his side, but they couldn’t spare anyone else. And besides, what kind of Assassin would he be if he just hung around the bureau all day, hiding from a woman trying to murder him? “All set and ready to head out?” he heard Rose Petal ask them. “All set,” Trueshot replied. The Stalliongrad Assassin wasn’t taking any chances. Besides his new sniper rifle and usual sword, hammer and sickle, Trueshot had added on two steel knives, a pistol, two brass knuckles, and a small dart gun to his arsenal. “You don’t think that’s overkill?” Sparkplug asked him as they left the main entrance. “I’m not letting her take me by surprise this time,” Trueshot chuckled and pulled the bolt back of his sniper rifle. “And I’ve got to keep you safe. I’m not letting you end up like the others.” Sparkplug nodded. Broadside and Fire Frenzy had lost their lives as soon as they headed out on their respective missions. Sparkplug knew that the Witch of Manehattan was no doubt going to show her face. Their mission was to take down a Templar target in Fillydelphia, but was it wise to travel so far? If it came to a retreat, Sparkplug wanted to be near enough to get back to the bureau. “How far are we going?” Rose asked them as they broke into a jog. “And are we even sure she’ll show up?” “Almost certainly.” The three Assassins eventually decided it was better to head to Fillydelphia and complete their mission than just camping around all night, waiting for Mirror Match, even if the risks were higher away from their homefront. It was late evening when Rose Petal and Trueshot stood on the roof of a baseball stadium while Sparkplug went to meet with an inside man who supposedly had a way to easily get to their target. “Was it wise to just let him head out alone to find this ‘inside man’?” Trueshot asked as he kept his eyes on the surrounding buildings with his eagle vision. It was turning out to be a clear night with an abnormally huge moon in the sky that was dyed an ominous red. “I have a bad feeling about this. Even the sky is bloody tonight.” “It happens every few years or so, Trueshot,” Rose reminded him as she too kept a vigilant eye on their surroundings. “Nothing special. Unless you’re a witch or something. We just need to keep our eyes out for Sparkplug’s sake.” “But Mirror Match is a witch!” Trueshot threw a hand up while the other held his rifle. “Don’t you remember all the stories?” “You mean with all the odd healings, superhuman abilities and the bite?” Rose Petal crossed her arms. “I refuse to believe it’s because she has magical powers. In the East, people can do amazing things with medical herbs and manipulating the chi of others. I’d bet Mirror is using something like that.” Trueshot sighed and nodded. “You’re right, Rose. There’s no way she’s some kind of monster. Monsters don’t exist. Only strange humans do. This time, I’m ready for her.” A while longer passed as the moon climbed higher into the heavens. Its ruddy light cast deep shadows all around, but neither Assassin was unnerved. They were trained to use the night to their advantage; there was nothing for them to fear about it. Their radios crackled to life. “This is Sparkplug,”  it said. “My meeting with the inside man might need to go on for a bit longer due to complications at the target’s stronghold. Standby for further orders.” “Copy that, Sparkplug,” Trueshot said sharply. “We’ll continue to keep watch out here.” “Good. You do that.” “These inside people...” Trueshot shook his head as he placed his radio back on his belt. “Trust them to always mess up. That’s why I don’t use them. Ever.” The night wore on. The traffic below ceased and soon the streets were completely empty as midnight drew nigh. Rose Petal was just yawning widely when she felt something brush the back of her hand. It felt like fingers. “Yeah, what is it, Trueshot?” Rose Petal said without looking up. “Hmm?” Trueshot said from behind. “What was what?” The female Assassin glanced at her partner curiously. “I don’t know, didn’t you touch me just now?” She held up her hand; there was a faint smear of some kind of paste on it. She rubbed at it and it vanished. “Uh...” Rose could hear the confusion in his voice. “I’m all the way over here.” Both of them activated their eagle sense at once, scanning the surroundings for any sign of a hostile entity. When it turned up blank, Trueshot shrugged and brushed a speck of dust from his sniper scope. “Eh, we’re just getting tired. It’s almost midnight, and Sparkplug’s still meeting with that inside man. I hope whatever he learns is worth it. To be out till midnight like this is just tiresome.” Rose Petal agreed, but decided to check it out anyway. She pulled her radio out and put it close to her mouth. “Sparkplug, this is Rose. What’s going on? Is everything alright with you?” “Yeah. Everything’s fine. We’re just finalizing the blueprints of the target’s panic room now. The insider’s been really helpful. Keep up the good work, Rose Petal.” As Rose put her radio away, she felt something was a bit off. Sparkplug never called her by her whole name. Not even the first day they met. Trueshot pulled out his phone to check the time. Momentarily blinded by the bright light of the screen, he almost missed the sensation of something touching his free hand’s bare skin. “Trueshot,” Rose decided to ask. “When has Sparkplug ever called me ‘Rose Petal’? Something feels wrong. Maybe we should check on him. In person.” The sniper nodded and wiped away a strange sticky substance from his hand. He raised the hand to his face and looked, beholding an odd, cream-like material on the surface. He wiped it off on his sleeve. “It’s eleven fifty anyway. I don’t want to be here when the clock strikes twelve. Tonight feels… strange.” “Yeah. Ten minutes until the witching hour.” They nodded to each other and began making their way down from the roof, looking for the room Sparkplug used. A small twinge of discomfort went through Rose’s head, making the world spin and almost costing her a handhold on the side of a wall. “You alright?” Trueshot shouted from above her. Rose dropped the last few feet and rolled to dampen the impact. “Yeah. I’m fine.” Trueshot joined her, unclipping his radio and calling their friend again. “Sparkplug. It’s Trueshot. Me and Rose are coming to meet with you. Something has come up.” “Yeah. Sure thing, Trueshot. I’m almost done here anyway.” Sparkplug and his contact had been using an empty apartment for their meeting spot, only one street away from where they had been standing watch. The window was dark, and Rose’s eagle sense revealed only one blue shape inside, lying on the floor. Suspicion clouded her mind as she brought out her radio again. “Sparkplug? Do you read us?” She kept an eye on the blue shape. “I read you. What’s the situation?” The blue shape inside continued to stay still. Rose looked to Trueshot for advice. Her head was beginning to feel heavier as they approached the meeting point, her footsteps getting slower and more irregular. Something was definitely wrong, but she couldn’t figure out what. Trueshot quickly caught her before she could fall over. “Rose. What’s wrong? Are you sure you’re fine?” “It’s nothing! We need to get to Sparkplug! That’s not him answering the radio!” “What? But it sounds just like him!” “Trueshot. Sparkplug never calls me by my full name! And no one else is in that apartment,” Rose pointed to the familiar figure lying on the floor. “Except him! He’s not the one answering us!” Trueshot bit back a curse. “It was a setup? We have to get to him!” A wave of dizziness swept over the sniper. “Come on, let’s move!” The two Assassins raced to the apartment and through the window, heading straight for Sparkplug’s motionless body. It was a grisly sight. The interior of the room was blood splattered and true to his word, there was the inside man. He had been nailed to the wall with a staggeringly large amount of steak knives and was most definitely dead. Sparkplug himself lay face down on the ground, not moving at all. The back of his clothes had been cut open to bare his back, upon with were carved in sickly green lines… “For crimes against the queen and her kin, on her behalf, I hereby sentence you to death,” Rose whispered as she read the words aloud. “No…” “How…?” Trueshot put a hand through his brown hair. “We were watching… Gah! We were fools to let him go on his own!” He punched a fist at the wall. As he did, Rose caught sight of something dark moving outside in the ruby light. It was a large bat, and clasped in its feet was a radio. Sparkplug’s radio. “Where is she now?” Rose mumbled as she watched it flap around under the moonlight. Why did that bat have his radio? Trueshot was the first to head out of the apartment. Rose followed shortly after, both Assassins still shaken from the sight in the room. The grey coated man mumbled something in a foreign language and pointed a phantom blade at the bat, priming one of the darts. The shot knocked the radio from its claws and the creature flew off, screeching indignantly. Rose and Trueshot gathered around the device where it had fallen in the dirt. It was Sparkplug’s radio all right, name tag and all. It was also still operational, all the lights and buttons in perfect condition. The Stalliongrad Assassin picked it up and stowed it away in his coat. “What, she has control of bats now?” he said as he unslung his rifle. “She must be close by. Watching us.” It was at that exact moment that both Trueshot and Rose Petal became aware of a presence. A shadow fell across both of them. “Vell, vell, vell,” a husky, feminine voice drawled. “Vhat have ve here?” Silhouetted against the crimson moon and hovering just above a chimney, sat a woman surrounded by a cloud of bats. Her face was alabaster, framed by elegant, wavy ruby hair. The newcomer’s scarlet eyes glittered as she leapt down off the roof, landing before the two Assassins, the movement ruffling the leathery membrane that joined her arms to her back. “I vas vondering vhat might have disturbed my children,” the woman said offhandedly. Now that she was no longer in the moon’s light, her black gothic dress, long detached sleeves, and knee high boots all were starkly similar to the description that Satin’s little sister had given them. “I should have guessed it vould be you.” “Seriously?” Trueshot raised his rifle and pointed it at her. “The kid wasn’t kidding…” He squeezed the trigger and watched a bullet exit his gun, heading directly for the vampire woman’s heart, knocking her back but otherwise causing no visible damage. Trueshot widened his eyes and fired again, this time aiming for her white face. The vampire twitched her arm up, shielding herself with a leathery wing. At the same time a swarm of bats swooped down onto Trueshot, biting and clawing at him in a frenzy. “Ah!” he sputtered as he tried to wave them off, keeping his armored arms above his face. “Get away! What in the world?!” Rose Petal quickly ran to him and batted the creatures away, trying to keep them from biting her friend’s face. There were so many of them, screeching and snapping at any exposed flesh that by the time she got them off, both Assassins were sporting a fair amount of cuts and bites. The vampire laughed and hopped back up to the roof in a single jump. “We need to close the distance,” Rose told her partner before heading up the side of the building. The vampire sighed and held out her hand, a small cluster of bats converging around her fingers and shimmering before solidifying into an antique-looking saber made of dark grey metal. “Rose, look out!” Trueshot pointed his rifle at the weapon and fired twice. Before his eyes, the weapon seemed to eat his bullets, the metal disappearing through the saber like a portal. “What…?” The vampire’s smile widened and she dissolved into mist, covering the entire space with impenetrable white fog. Rose Petal yelped, a snow white hand condensing from the mist and seizing her by the throat. Dozens of other such hands began to form around her, grabbing her limbs and holding her down. “Trueshot!” Rose called as she fought to free herself. She could hear her partner, but through the fog, she had no idea where he was. She unsheathed her hidden blade and stabbed for an arm and they let her go, dropping the Assassin to the ground. Rose closed her eyes as she approached the ground, but to her surprise, the ground sank as she landed and bounced her right back out and onto the street. “Oof!” Rose flipped herself onto her bottom and stared with amazement at the floor. “Wha… What was that?” Trueshot was having a worse time of it. The man had somehow managed to located the apartment and he was now running up the stairs to try and get a better vantage point. What he did not expect was for a man covered in blood and stabbed from head to toe with steak knives to shamble out into his path, groaning and reaching out at him with mangled fingers. Instinctively, Trueshot unsheathed his sword and cut it across the man’s chest, staggering him but not dropping him. The groaning grew louder and the fingers turned into steak knives, each point shining in the dark like the stars. He just cut again and again, trying to get the man away, at the same time moving backwards back down. At the corner of his eye, Trueshot saw the vampire closing in on him with her saber drawn. He threw his sickle, but the vampire exploded into a cloud of bats, leaving behind the body of Sparkplug on the ground. To his horror, the other Assassin turned his head to Trueshot and screeched, “You left me to die!” “No!” Trueshot turned and looked for the vampire. “Where are you?! What have you done to me!” “Vhat have I done to you?” the heavily accented voice seemed to come from everywhere. “You have done this to yourself. The Vitch of Manehattan varned you, but you vould not listen. Now I must deal vith you as I see fit.” “Vitch?” Trueshot copied before he understood. “Mirror Match sent you! She betrayed us! She killed our friends! She even betrayed the one who loved her. Why are you helping her?” “The vitch’s qvarrels are her own. I for vun have only a favor to fulfill to her, and I intend to do it.” Trueshot bent down and retrieved his sickle, pulling his hammer from behind him as well. “Come out and face me! Stop using your fancy tricks!” There was a bark of laughter. “I vill put down my veapons as soon as you lay down yours. How is that? You don’t scare me, little man. You don’t compare to any of the hunters from vun hundred years ago.” Swarms of chittering bats flapped around Trueshot, each one of the infernal creatures bearing the face of someone he knew: the Mentor, Star Lance, Frigid Night, Sparkplug, and countless others. Their screams and screeches pierced his ears like needles. And out there in the nucleus of chaos and wrongness, the vampire sat on thin air, watching solemnly. Trueshot flailed his weapons around, trying to chase the gruesome bat creatures away. “You’re not real! You can’t be!” The bats spun around the stricken Assassin in a funnel cloud, trapping him in place and slashing at him with wings of steel. Trueshot fought, but to no avail, unable to kill even a single one; it was as though his blades phased through the creatures. “No! No!” The grey-skinned Assassin sprinted for the window and threw himself out, grabbing onto a lower ledge at the last minute before dropping the rest of the way. Trueshot landed on his knees before scrambling back till his back was against the wall. “Nasty things…” The Assassin’s whole body was hurting from all the cuts and bruises he received from all the weird creatures. “Give up yet?” The vampire was hanging upside down in front of him, their faces on the exact same level. Her fangs glinted in the moonlight as she smiled. Trueshot groaned and leaned his head back. He had come prepared for a fight, but instead, got something he never expected. “Wh-why? Why do all this…? Why not just fight me?” The vampire reached out and tapped him between the eyes with a manicured nail that was, of course, painted black; he smelled something, something like strawberries and cream. “It’s very simple, mon gars. The Vitch of Manehattan vanted a distraction vhile she vent after her target. Since she is in a hurry to attend a funeral in Hollow Shades tonight, I have offered to cover for her usual role vhich she takes after taking down the target. Ve’re not all bad, ve vampires. Only that tonight’s events pit us against vun another.” Trueshot closed his eyes, but reopened them after remembering his partner was still out here. “Where’s Rose?” “Maybe she ran off for some garlic,” the vampire dropped down to his level and flourished her saber. “Or a vooden stake. Either of vhich vould be more effective than your toys. Or not.” Using the conversation, Trueshot had slipped a hand into his coat and held his pistol. He only had one chance at this, but he was going to take it. He slowly turned the gun in his pocket, making sure the barrel was facing the vampire while she talked. When he got the trajectory about right, he wasted no time in firing. The bullet ripped out of his coat and flew straight for the vampire’s head. There was a faint twitch as the bullet entered the side of the creature’s cheek and tore out the back of her neck. “Hmm,” the vampire said, raising her hand to her face. “Ow.” Then she dropped her saber and fell to the ground. Trueshot pushed himself up, but trained his pistol on her body. Vampires never go down with a single bullet, at least, that’s what he knew from the movies. He emptied his magazine into her body before swapping to his sniper rifle, loading three more shots into her before taking his radio out. “Rose? Do you copy? Are you there?” Rose’s voice came clear out of the other side. “Yeah. I’m okay.” her voice was shaky but otherwise sounded unhurt. “Where’s the vampire?” Trueshot looked down at the body, which had alarmingly begun to burn, bursting into bright green fire. “She’s dead. Burning at my feet right now. Where are you? Are you still close by?” “Close. The street’s melting and there are killer bats everywhere. I’m hiding in a dumpster.” “Hang tight,” Trueshot said as he began walking. “I’ll come find you.” Trueshot holstered his guns and tried to focus his eagle vision, but he was really tired from the strangest night he had ever gone through. And then something grabbed him on the shoulder. Something with long, blackened fingers tipped with even darker, three inch long talons. “Going so soon, little man?” Trueshot’s blood stopped in his veins as he looked over his shoulder. Standing behind him with its hand on his shoulder was a truly horrifying creature. All black and streamlined, yet still vaguely human, its gaping mouth was full of needlelike teeth, its fangs like twin hunting knives and dripping with saliva on their serrated edges. Long, purple hair fell to its bare feet, of which each toe was also tipped with a claw. The remains of the vampire’s charred dress clung to the monster’s lithe form. Its catlike eyes, once crimson, now burned like acidic green spotlights, wide and glaring with hate. Trueshot unsheathed both his hidden blades and stabbed back, one going through her arm while the other buried itself into her chest. The creature screamed at him, spraying his face with drool before sinking its teeth into his arm, tearing through the fabric and taking a bite out of his flesh. “Agh!” Trueshot yelled as he fell back, clutching his wounded arm. Even though injured, the Assassin still managed to retrieve his pistol in his good hand and fire at the creature, tearing skin off her shoulders and arms with sprays of red. The vampire extended a pair of flaming green wings and flapped into the air a few meters. Spitting out the mouthful of meat, the creature swooped through the gunfire and clawed him across the chest before screeching something unintelligible at him. Trueshot spun on a heel and fell face down, struggling to hold himself up. He turned himself over and grasped for his chest with his injured arm before spinning his sniper rifle into his arms. He pressed down on the trigger and watched the bullets tear through her abdomen like paper. Yet, the creature advanced, even though Trueshot could see through her destroyed belly. “Pathetic,” the creature hissed as the wounds began to close and stop bleeding altogether in a lick of green fire. There was no more hint of the Trotsylvanian accent. It sounded like two women talking at once, just out of sync. “Not even silver bullets. Still, you annoy me, so…” Wrapping one hand around the barrel of Trueshot’s rifle, the vampire jerked it from his grip and crumpled the barrel and receiver in its fingers. Before he could arm himself any further, the Assassin’s hands were taken in a vice-like grip and brought up to the monster’s mouth. “Like I said before, I’m just here to fulfill a favor,” Trueshot could see every single groove and point of those teeth, like those of a bear trap. “The next time you see the Witch of Manehattan, tell her we’re even.” She bit down hard and the night was rent with the sound of screaming.