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// Chapter 2: Recollection 
// Story: The Interrogation 
// by Reik 
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Perhaps that was an overstatement Franz thought, he didn’t have everything. It was still just bits and pieces, random events, no real correlation between any of them, no real beginning and no real end. But what was most annoying, he still didn’t know why he did any of it; there was no motive in his thoughts, just action. The blue pony stared at him from across the wooden table with a glare of hatred incarnate. Even though she was but several feet from him, it felt like miles to Franz, he felt no amount of intimidation, he didn’t feel scared, he could only describe his state as bliss. But once again, he didn’t know why. As the pointless staring match continued, the colts mind was akin to an anthill, numerous functions occurring in concert, he went over his mental cards over and over again; analyzing where he had the advantage and what memories could prove useful. His mental archive, what others would compare to an expansive library, to him was more akin to a burnt out study. 

*10 hours earlier…No, 9 hours…9 ½ hours?*

“Dude, what the fuck are you holding?” Mumbled Franz as he peered over the wooden crate that served as the pair’s current cover. A sudden tug brought him out of his position and back behind the crate. 

“Same shit your holding bro, now shut the fuck up and give me a minute.” Whispered the cloaked pony, Franz didn’t even know his name, or he didn’t remember it. He exhaled deeply, his breath turning to smoke before him. He slouched against the crate, slowly coming to a sitting position. He disregarded the snow and the biting cold that numbed his underside, instead shifting his gaze upwards, towards the sky. Although being in a narrow alley therefore his view being restricted by the two sides, the dark sky was still present, a broad slit across the heavens. The moon made a brief appearance in-between the clouds at random intervals but never often enough for Franz to really marvel at the orbs beauty. The dark clouds also concealed the wondrous stars that once dominated the black background. Snapping his head back around the crate, Franz observed their target. Past down the alley, across the snow, across the wide and empty street, laid the guard post. The low stone building that served as a hub for guard activities rested quietly between two cafés. It was a modest building, one entrance, a single large window, and the royal seal above it all. As Franz examined the structure, the main entrance opened quickly, and out of the portal came five guards, the night patrol. Not breaking his gaze with the patrol, Franz nudged the cloaked pony, mumbling that the patrol had just left. Once the patrol was out of view, Franz looked back at his partner. The colt was hunched over a small bottle, filled with a blue tinted concoction, similar to the bottle at Franz’s hooves, each of the glass containers had a small dirty rag emanating from its neck. 

The cloaked pony was hard at work, scraping a thin slip of black metal along a rock, small sparks flew of the metal after each contact, it was clear the cloaked pony was trying to catch the rag aflame.

“The building is granite ya know.” Said Franz, moving slightly closer to the cloaked pony. “Yes, and?” Responded the cloaked colt. “Well, unless this shit is magical I don’t think burning that mother down is going to be done by just two of these.” The cloaked pony continued his labor at a quicker pace. “Yeah, ‘because we obviously don’t have magical shit right here, ‘cause you know, all kerosene is naturally blue, are you fucking retarded?” Mumbled the cloaked pony. Franz ignored the insult. “So this shit lights bricks on fire?” The cloaked pony stopped his action and a lone spark flung itself onto the rag, for several seconds there was only a painful silence, then the rag was a smoking torch. “No, but just make sure you hit the door or window, the mixture will take care of the rest, and don’t look directly at the flame.” 

The cloaked pony rose quickly, snapping his head in random directions, searching for evidence of an unwanted onlooker. After satisfying his paranoia, the colt looked down at Franz. Through the concealing hood, Franz could make out two blue orbs standing against the dark backdrop. They where cold, devoid compassion, yet lacked hatred or sadness. They where the eyes of a machine. The colt lifted the bottle with one hoof, the attached rag engulfed in flames. 

"Ever used one of these?" His voice was rigid and calculating. Franz stood and lifted his bottle to the other, the flame quickly leaped to his own rag. "No, can't be that hard though." Franz said, his eyes flashed from the bottle to the guard post, he began selecting the optimal location for placement. "Just do what I do, and don't take your time, guards don't fuck around." Said the cloaked pony as he stepped past Franz and down the alley, he casted a long shadow across the snow.

Franz hefted the bottle in one hoof, and began to follow. At first it was awkward walking with only three legs but eventually the new method of movement came easy. The air still in the alley, and everything seemed as if it was only several inches from him. Franz felt like his world was shrinking, he was never claustrophobic, yet the sensation was unsettling and the pony quickened his pace towards the alleys exit. As they neared the alleys exit, Franz also felt a creepy sense of paranoia, like at any moment a head would poke out from a window or a door along the wall would swing open. 

The pair stopped at the exit, the point where the main street was but several feet from them. The cobblestone street was wider than Franz expected and he mentally groaned. Bringing with it a brutal wave of cold air, the wind picked up and Franz momentarily feared that the flame would be extinguished. Despite the fear, he embraced the cold, the low temperatures had always attracted the earth pony, 
The cloaked pony stared at the guard post silently, looking to Franz after what felt like five minutes. He spoke with an unusually calm tone, Franz himself wasn't nervous but he had still never committed such an act and the colts tone was as if this action was a normal and expected one.

"You ready comrade?" Franz nodded and took a shaking breath.

"Let's show these motherfuckers, viva la revolucion." He said as he broke into a run across the street.

"Fuckin commies." mumbled Franz as he to broke into a run after his partner. 

There were no voices, no groans of civilization, nothing to give away that they were in the heart of Equestria. The only sound Franz heard was the sound of crunching snow. The pair crossed the street slowly it seemed, Franz momentarily compared the situation to a recurring dream of his, run as he might, the hallway would only grow longer.

The wind lashed at them as they ran, enhancing the nights chill. Franz envied his ally, a cloak would have been a valuable possession at this time he thought. His thoughts shifted to his partner, and with that, the memory ended. All he further recollected was casting the bottle into the guard post, the ensuing fire, and the returning patrol.
“Hey, asshole, I asked you a question.” Franz’s eyes refocused at the blue ponies remark. He sighed heavily when his vision revealed that the room, and its occupants, had gone through little change. He groaned before responding.

“Sorry, I was having a flashback, you would have dug it.” He said with a growing grin. The blue pony moaned and gently slammed her head on the wooden table which groaned with the added weight. “Remember when I said I won’t see an antique destroyed while I can stop it, I wasn’t kidding.” The blue pony mumbled a descriptive vulgarity about Franz and the table having intimate relations. This bitch is going to break my fucking table thought Franz.

Bored with the blue pony, Franz shifted his gaze to the yellow pony huddled in the corner who had up until now been closely examining the ground in front of her hooves. Upon noticing the colt was watching her; she gasped and turned her attention to what must have been an interesting section of the stone ceiling.

Franz shook his head and spoke, quietly so as not to disturb the obviously distressed blue pony. “She’s not too good at interrogations is she, I mean I’ve never been to one but I’ve seen enough movies to know the basics of a decent interrogation.” The yellow pony nervously shifted her hooves and continued her observation of the ceiling. Franz gave the pony a last look over then returned his gaze to the blue pony that, un-surprisingly, was still facedown on the table. Franz, overwhelmed with boredom, returned to his thoughts. He searched his mental cache for any details that may have been omitted. There had to be something, a detail or aspect he had overlooked. He was desperate, if not to help gain the upper hand in this situation or provide leads to future memories, then just to prove that he could do it. To prove that he was the master of his psych. suddenly, he uncovered another missing link, a light bulb might as well have appeared above his head. The blue pony, she was there, he knew it, he could not mistake that tail or hair. She was on the patrol that had left the guard house and had caught him and the commie burning it down, she had been there.

He wanted to burst out laughing, another victory for the amnesic convict! But how to use this new nugget? How to utilize its hidden potential. The blue pony lifted her head and fixed the colt with another hateful glare. Franz leaned in slowly, a wide grin on his face. He spoke quietly. Was it a stretch, was it going to get him a hoof halfway up his ass? Of course, but you never really know until you do it he figured. “Hey, last night, you and your friends did pretty good.” The blue pony’s eyes widened and Franz could tell he touched a nerve. “You let a couple of street trash burn down a guard, Celestia’s finest my ass.”
Seconds later the blue pony was upon him, his head sandwiched between her hoof and the hard floor.