//------------------------------// // Consequences // Story: Brighter Horizons // by Destiny Chaser //------------------------------// The beautiful woman stared at the computer screen as she continued to carefully scrutinize the security footage from the nightclub, meticulously absorbing each and every last detail of her young quarry as she planned her approach. She was currently replaying the footage from Enrique's office over and over again as she attempted to figure out exactly what had happened before the cameras in the office went blank as they shorted out. The last thing she could make out through the growing static was an intense light that shone from the boy's two fingertips the second before the screen went blank. That careless idiot could have killed him. The thought causing her to scowl. If he weren't already dead, I'd tear his throat out. Too bad. She smiled darkly to herself. She cut to the next clip of footage that she had also been examining, the clip of him sprinting down the adjacent hall, carrying the female in his arms. She could tell that he was just a hair slower than before and that his gait was slightly off. Hmm, hurt are we? Let's hope not too badly, not yet anyways. Once more the camera footage blanked out; but this time, only for a moment before it faded back into view. The camera now showed only a gaping, smoking hole in the same wall that he had been running towards. How are you doing that my friend? An artifact? Celestia's witchcraft? She smirked as she imagined what Enrique's body must have looked like after being hit by whatever magic it was that could blow a hole through a building with such ease. She never did like him, not that she liked any human really. Just another sack of worthless meat. Rewinding the footage a few seconds, she paused it, staring thoughtfully at the young woman he was holding in his arms. What is she to you, little Equestrian? A sharp knock sounded at the door. "Enter," She said without taking her eyes off the screen. The door swung open and Telson strode into the room, turning to shut the door behind him before moving to stand in front of the desk with his hands clasped behind him. "They are all assembled, Mistress. I have given them a brief synopsis of the situation, but they await your full directives." The woman leaned back, slowly steepling her fingers together as she closed her eyes in thought. Telson waited patiently, knowing better than to say anything while she was thinking. After a few moments, her emerald eyes snapped open as she gazed up at her towering companion. "What is your evaluation of the Equestrian, Telson? What do you make of him?" She asked while looking him straight in the eye. The large man nodded as he paused a second, glancing to the side as he considered his words, a careless answer would not do. He met her gaze. "The boy certainly knows how to handle himself, he's obviously been well-trained. And he's strong. Far stronger than any human his size should be, and fast. He definitely has magic of some kind. How?" He gave a slight shrug, his huge shoulders rising like a pair of boulders. "I'm not sure. An artifact? Bewitchment of some sort? Perhaps the Equestrians experimented on him." The woman folded her hands but continued to keep her gaze upon him. "Is that going to be a problem?" The corner of Telson's mouth lifted ever so slightly in amusement. "His strength? Not so much. His speed? Well, that could prove...irritating. But I believe that I should be able to slow him down." He concluded, causing her to raise a bemused eyebrow. "Without breaking him." He added; she chuckled at his quick save. "Yes, I would like to have him in one piece for now, dear Telson." She said as she now rested her folded hands on her lap. "Any theories as to how he killed Enrique or blasted his way through that wall?" Telson shook his head, "I'm not entirely sure, but preliminary autopsy reports from our contacts say that the cause of death appeared to be brought about by a sudden and catastrophic discharge of electrical current." He answered. "An electrical discharge?" Telson nodded. "One of the examiners said that it's almost as if he were struck by lightning," He smiled at her before adding, "While inside the building. That, and he was missing most of his right hand. Sliced clean off." This information actually caused her to laugh out loud in savage delight. "For order's sake!" She exclaimed, laughing a bit more. "What did Celestia do, turn him into a weapon?!" She shook her head disdainfully. "That's about her style." She calmed herself as she glanced down in thought for a moment. "Still," She said with an understanding nod of her head, "He killed without hesitating." She looked back up at her assistant, "I'd say he's a chip off the ol' block. Wouldn't you agree Telson?" "Yes Mistress." He replied. "An electrical based attack would also explain why the cameras in the office shorted out before we could fully see what had happened. Again, I'm not certain how the he does it. Best guess? An artifact or some other enchanted item." She nodded in agreement. "Well, we'll have much to discuss with him once he's here. Can you handle this one without me?" Telson smiled and nodded. "Assuredly, Mistress. Though, it is likely we will lose most of the assets I've gathered in the process." She waved a hand dismissively. "They're expendable. Use them however you see fit." He nodded once in acknowledgment as she rose to her feet. "One last thing Telson, I want the female he has with him as well. She could be of use to us in persuading him if he decides to be less than cooperative." "My thoughts exactly, Mistress." He concurred as she walked slowly around the desk, keeping her eyes fixed on him as she moved until she was standing before him. "Besides," She whispered, "Young, innocent love is such a rare delicacy. It would be such a shame to let it all go to waste." Telson smirked as he nodded in agreement. She was still for a moment as she continued to look into his pale blue eyes without blinking. For more than a minute, she simply stared. He was careful to not stare back too long, that would be disrespectful. But in the time he did, he had seen within her emerald eyes for a fleeting moment, a great longing and sadness. She suddenly appeared so very worn and tired. It was a rare moment of vulnerability in her otherwise impeccable demeanor. He had only seen it once before, nearly seventeen years ago when she had realized that they were both now trapped here in this miserable world, unable to return to their beloved home and Queen. He secretly knew that she had always blamed herself for their stranding. But in all truth, he never did; he couldn't. There was simply no way for any-ling, even one as capable as her, to anticipate every possible scenario. From that time on, he had resolved himself to carry on in his duty to serve her to the absolute best of his ability; it was his honor to do so. His Queen had commanded it, and by order, he would do so or die trying. Telson stiffened as she suddenly, and unexpectedly reached up to place one of her elegant hands on his enormous shoulder. He nervously glanced from her hand to her face. He was shocked, completely unsure of how to respond to such a generous gesture that he felt most unworthy to receive. Slowly, ever so slowly, she allowed her face to break out into a genuine, caring smile as she favored him, her faithful servant and guardian who for all of these years had loyally stood by her and never once failed or disappointed her. She could not wish for a better companion. He swallowed, filled with trepidation. "Mistress..." He began to say, but she shook her head, cutting him off. "No. I want you to say my name, Telson. My real name," She paused for a second before whispering, "Please." Her voice trembled slightly, and her eyes began to appear glassy. His eyes went wide with alarm, this was not an order, but a request! A plea! Oh, Mistress... But he complied, nodding solemnly before whispering to her, "Chelicerae...Princess Chelicerae." Her face relaxed as she softly closed her eyes, allowing the meaning of those words to reverberate within her very being as she drew strength from the reminder of her true identity. I do not belong to this world. This is who I am... After a moment, her eyes shot open, a glimmer of green light passing through them as she smiled brilliantly, flashing her perfect teeth. Her eyes narrowed as her face filled once more with steely determination and confidence. "Let's go home, Telson." She said with invincible conviction, "Let's go home together." Damian paced the floor of the enormous living room with all the pent up frustration of a caged tiger, the throbbing pain in his bandaged nose and plastered wrist only slightly muted by the pain medication he had taken earlier. The room was divided into two levels, the upper portion fitted with hardwood flooring and a luxurious bar around which several artistically designed stools were arranged. The lower level cradled a sunken sitting area and had a soft, blood-red carpet upon which several dark leather sofas and armchairs were arranged. There was an enormous fireplace at the other end featuring a large reproduction of Jean-Léon Gérôme's Napoleon in Egypt over its mantel. The lighting in the room was slightly muted, giving the room a somewhat cozy and relaxed atmosphere. The city gleamed through the large, floor to ceiling windows of the rooftop penthouse. Whoever lived here was accustomed to money, and lots of it by the looks of things. He wasn't alone. In addition to Sergio, his driver from earlier that day, there were six other men in the room, none of whom he was familiar with. They were all superbly dressed, wearing dark, tailored suits and coats and each of them were imposing in both size and their demeanor. All of them bore the deadly serious look of true professionals, hard men accustomed to doing hard and awful things. They had yet to even say a word to him, but he could care less. He was growing impatient as struggled to absorb all that had happened in the last few hours. Damian still couldn't wrap his arms around the reality that Enrique was dead, not that he held any kind of love for his deceased boss, he had no love for anyone really. But it was more of the shame of it all. The sweet setup he had enjoyed as Enrique's strongman which had allowed him to freely live out all of his dark fantasies had suddenly been stripped away from him in an instant along with their entire operation. And all of this had been done by the same punk who had embarrassed him earlier, which he was still struggling to accept. What the hell is taking so long? What do they have to discuss?! We find the freak, we make him wish he was never born, and we kill him. He couldn't wait to get his hands on that kid, and Ella, who was apparently in on the whole thing. He would kill him. Oh with such exquisite torment, he would kill him; and he would make her watch. He allowed his twisted fantasies to give him some sadistic pleasure for a moment, if only to distract himself while they waited for the go-ahead. Still, the memory of what had happened to him earlier that afternoon, his powerlessness to wrestle free, the kid staring coldly into his eyes as he had slowly crushed his wrist, filled him with unease. What the hell is he anyways? He was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of the large double doors next to the far side of the bar on the upper level swinging open. All eyes moved to follow as the tall, muscular man with black hair wearing the black suit and green tie who had briefed them all earlier stalked into the room. At his right arm, resting a hand on his elbow was perhaps the most beautiful woman Damian had ever seen. She was of middling height with long, glossy-black hair and emerald eyes. Her white blouse hung lightly over her slim, but shapely figure. The short-cut black skirt she wore rose just above her knees, giving him a perfect view of her smooth, tanned legs. He had never met the head of the larger organization that he and Enrique worked for, and he certainly had no idea that it was a woman. His initial thought had been that the tall man who had briefed them earlier was the boss, he certainly looked the part; but it was not so. The big man had referred to another, and that when she was introduced, they would address her only as 'mistress'. That was rich. Damian thought with a smirk. However, as much as he wanted to, he opted not to stare for too long at her. Her massive man-servant was slowly giving the death-glare to everyone in the room, his gaze a fearsome warning to anyone who might dare to look upon her too openly. As if on cue, the other six goons began to move forward to stand in a semicircle before the pair; Damian and Sergio joined them. The woman stepped away from her assistant who took a step back with his hands hanging loosely at his sides, ready for action. It was easy to tell that she carried the air of one who was supremely confident in their abilities. Her head turned slowly back and forth as she surveyed the eight men before her. Damian scowled interiorly as she appeared to smirk slightly as she took note of his battered appearance. When she had finished her appraisal of those before her, she finally spoke. "As you have already been informed, one of our stations was taken down earlier this evening by the young man whose image you were shown earlier in Telson's briefing." She said as she began to slowly walk along in front of them, her hands clasped behind her. Her voice sounded warm and inviting, yet as smooth and dangerous as an oiled dagger. It caused the hair on the back of Damian's neck to stand up. She continued, "Thanks to the phone the woman who was formerly in our employ is still carrying, we have a general idea of where they are." Come on, get on with it you stuck up idiot. Damian thought as he shifted his weight back and forth. "However, this job will be a little different from what you're normally accustomed too. I must emphasize that this is not a hit." She paused to gauge their reactions before she continued, "Your job, is to go and retrieve this pair and bring them here to me. Understand that I want them both alive and as unharmed as can be managed." Damian bristled as he could not believe what he was hearing. Alive? You've gotta be freaking kidding me! Why would you possibly need them in one piece?! He was snapped out of his thoughts as the woman stopped in front of him. "Do not underestimate the boy," She said as she gestured to Damian, "As you can see, he is far more capable than he appears." Her remarks caused a few of the others to snicker as Damian fumed with hateful outrage. She then moved away from him, "Hit him hard, hit him fast, but remember, he must be alive. Do I make myself clear?" At first, no one said anything, but then a single voice broke the silence. "Yeah, what's the payout for this job?" All eyes turned towards the source of the voice, it was Sergio. The stocky man was still wearing his brown leather jacket and had his arms crossed defiantly across his chest. Damian's jaw clenched as the mistress turned towards him. Shut up you idiot! Of the three of them, Sergio had gotten off the easiest in their first encounter with the kid. He was lucky to have only been knocked out. Slab was still in the hospital having his jaw wired back together, looking like he had been kicked in the face by a horse. The woman stepped towards the shorter man who stared defiantly back at her. She continued her pace until she was standing less than a foot away, crowding his personal space. She looked down on him with a curious expression, as if she were merely considering the color of the floor beneath him. "I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that." She calmly stated after a rather uncomfortably long pause. "Care to repeat yourself?" Everyone in the room remained motionless, the air filling with tension as the man continued to stubbornly meet her gaze. "Yeah. This freak killed our boss and only after he took out the rest of our crew single-handedly! This is a high risk assignment, and I want some extra 'hazard pay' for this. That, or I walk." She raised an imperious eyebrow but said nothing more as her eyes continued to bore into the man as if she were attempting to peer into his very soul. After a few more tense moments, something seemed to shift in the shorter man. He looked away, no longer able to hold the woman's stern gaze which surprised Damian as Sergio was easily the most stubborn man he had ever met. It was abundantly clear to all present that he had lost this little contest of wills. But rather than move away, the mysterious woman continued to ominously stare him down. As the seconds continued to tick by, Sergio began to sweat, but he dared not look back up at her or even make a sound. She continued to stare. The growing sense of discomfort was now spreading out over the entire room and still, she did not let up. Damian never imagined that a woman could be so intimidating. He knew what it was like to take pleasure in making others, especially women, squirm in pain and misery, he did it all the time. But this was different. She was certainly causing Sergio discomfort for sure, but it didn't seem to be for pleasure. This was not subjugation, this was annihilation. Alright, we get it. You're the boss, enough already! He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but there was something off about her, something profoundly wrong. It was almost as if the very world around her could not bear her existence. A chill ran up his spine as he realized that he had never before in his life feared a woman until now. As the seconds turned into a full minute, the very air in the room was beginning to feel like an oppressive weight, each breath becoming an immense labor. And the longer Damian was in the same room as her, the louder his instincts screamed at him to run, to place as much distance between himself and whatever predator his mind was convinced was present there with him before it turned and devoured him as well. He felt helpless, the same kind of feeling one would have if they were stranded out in the open ocean as a massive shark circled in the dark waters below. Just as he was beginning to seriously consider how much time it would take him to sprint the exit, she finally spoke. "So, you're done then?" She quietly asked. Sergio was now literally trembling, his arms braced tightly at his sides as he glanced desperately at the others for support. No longer was his expression that of a man trying to gain support for, what was earlier in his mind, a legitimate objection, but a plea for his very life. It was too late though, everyone could sense it. Impassive stares were all he received. He was dead where he stood and it was best to not become between a lion and its prey. "Y-yeah," He stuttered. "I think I'm done." The woman nodded once before she straightened her posture and stepped to one side. "Well, there's the door." She said as she gestured to another door perpendicular to the set she had come through earlier. She smiled at him, a seemingly genuine smile. "You're a man who's aware of his limitations, I can respect that. If you would rather not take the risk, then take your leave." It was incredible. With that one smile, she had somehow managed to instantly dispel all of the nightmarish energy that had been building up in the room, vanishing as if it was never there to begin with. Everyone seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. Sergio blinked, startled by the unexpected turn of events. Not wanting to wait any longer, he moved towards the door, muttering something unintelligible in gratitude as he stepped past her and headed eagerly for the exit. The woman turned and looked at Telson, something seemed to pass between them. As the shorter man passed blissfully in front of him, the powerful man's hand suddenly darted out with the speed of a striking snake, seizing the unfortunate man firmly by the neck. Sergio barely had time to utter a shout before they all heard a sickening 'crunch' as Telson effortlessly closed his fist with the force of a hydraulic clamp around a paper cup. The dead man fell limply to the floor, twitching once before he was still. Damian felt his blood run cold as he stared at his associate now dead on the floor, struggling to comprehend what he had just seen. The woman sniffed dismissively as she casually looked up from examining her fingernails, "Anyone else?" Dead silence was the only response. Damian flinched as she suddenly turned to look at him. He felt pinned to the very spot he stood by her eyes, like a small bird that freezes up when it makes the fatal error of locking eyes with a snake. After a tense moment, she smiled and winked at him, "Be a dear and help Telson take out the trash, will you? Thanks." She turned and began to walk out of the room, a slight sway in her hips. She paused and glanced back at him, "Oh, and do hurry back, I simply can't stand delays." Ella leaned against the counter of the concierge's desk of the fancy hotel lobby that she and Flash were presently standing in. "I'd like a room for the night, top floor if possible." She said. The tall and sharply dressed attendant on the other side nodded as he efficiently clicked away on his keyboard. "I have a suite available, will that suffice?" He asked, his voice crisp and affable as he eyed the odd couple before him. They didn't exactly look the part of the sort of guests who could afford the rates at this establishment. He was slightly surprised when the young woman nodded without batting an eye. He noticed the young man behind her look away from him and back to the entrance of the lobby, he appeared agitated. "That will be $800, please." She paid for it in cash which further surprised him. He slid two key cards in a folded card across the counter to her before saying, "Enjoy your stay." Ella grabbed the cards and turned to head for the elevators, Flash followed behind her with his right hand in his jacket pocket, in his left he was holding a small, black tool bag. The hotel was indeed impressive. The beautiful central lobby consisted of a massive, open space surrounded by stacked, wraparound tiers that made up the various floors. Gilded glass elevators rose quickly along the four different sides, taking their occupants up the various levels. An ornate stone water-fountain occupied the center of the area. The artistically flowing water created a comforting ambiance of sound as soft jazz music drifted in from the elaborate restaurant and bar on the other side. Being so late at night, there were relatively few patrons left. Ella didn't pay much of this any notice as she stared blankly ahead while the elevator doors closed as she hit their floor number. Her mind had practically gone blank as she tried not to think too hard about everything that had just happened. She felt as if she did, she might run screaming from the building. The only reason she was keeping it together was because Flash had promised to explain everything to her once they were in a safe location. He had asked her to find them a hotel, the only stipulation being that it be an upscale one which she agreed to without objection. She really didn't know what else to do at the moment but follow his instructions, she owed him that much. Ella curiously reached up and rubbed the top of her head again, marveling at how no trace of her injury remained. After they had fled the club and gotten back to the car, Flash had done something to her that she couldn't quite remember. She could vaguely recall him examining her injuries, a worried look on his face. The next thing she knew was that her pain had immediately dissipated and that she could think clearly once more. She had no idea what he did to her, but she was sure as hell going to find out. From there they had driven to a convenience store where he had created cover for her while she discreetly slipped inside the store's restroom in order to wash the blood out of her hair and off of her face so that she would be presentable enough to get them checked into a hotel without the police being called. After she had parked the car, he had oddly asked her if she had any kind of tools. She checked the trunk and found a tool bag which he strangely took with them. Ella glanced over at Flash who was staring at the floor as if he too, were lost in thought. She noticed that his jaw was tightly clenched and he was swaying slightly. He looked a bit pale, which was saying something considering his fair complexion. He had barely spoken a word to her beyond the immediate instructions he given, only speaking when necessary. He doesn't look so good. In fact, now that she really thought about it, he looked downright terrible which began to worry her slightly. She cleared her throat before asking, "So, uh, an-any reason why you wanted an expensive place?" Flash's head snapped up as if he had been dozing off, he shook his head and looked at her. "More secure location, and places like this will have alcohol in the rooms." He said before going silent again. Ella was a bit surprised by his answer. Guess I'm not the only one who could use a drink, She grimly thought. The image of Enrique's dead, smoldering body leaped to the front of her mind again causing her to shudder. What are you Flash? How do you do all of these things? She still could not process what had happened and yet, as freaked out as she was, she still felt completely safe with him. The elevator chimed as it finally reached the top floor, the pair wordlessly exited together and began to walk side by side until they found their room number. Ella opened the door and stepped inside the dimly lit room, flicking on the rest of the lights which revealed the cozy interior. Her stomach turned slightly as the room was similar to many she had seen before when visiting high-end clients. The interior was large and spacious, with a high ceiling and dark-blue carpeting. An enormous, king-sized bed draped in thick, vanilla-colored bedding occupied the center with a mini-fridge and vanity immediately to its right. The curtains were drawn over the large windows which she knew would also include a balcony on the other side. Additionally, there was a writing desk with a chair as well as a large, padded armchair over in the corner. Ella tossed her pale-red arm bag onto the bed as she pulled off her worn leather jacket, Flash staggered past her towards the writing desk, still holding the nylon tool-bag. She knew the pink tank-top and jeans she was wearing could probably use a wash, luckily she had a change of clothes in her bag. "I could really use a shower," She sighed as she shook her head to loosen her still slightly damp hair. "How about you Flash?" Ella jumped as she was startled by a sudden clatter. She spun around to see that the tool bag had slipped from Flash's hand, falling to the floor as he slumped forward. He dropped to one knee before he caught himself, clinging onto the corner of the desk with both hands for support, his head lolling to one side. "Flash!" Ella shouted as she immediately sprang to his side. Unsure of what to do, she grabbed him under his left arm as she tried to help him to his feet; he was shaking. He managed to stand back up before collapsing backwards into the desk chair, breathing hard. Ella's eyes went wide as she noticed a smeared, bloody handprint where he had grabbed onto the desk. "Flash! Oh my gosh, Flash! What's wrong?!" She shouted as she placed her hands on his shoulders, shaking him slightly. Her eyes danced over him as she desperately searched for his injury. His two-toned blue and violet eyes flicked up as he looked at her apologetically. "Sorry about that, I got a little dizzy, that's all." He said as he shifted in the chair to sit up. "I think I took one back there." He exhaled. She blinked in confusion. "Took one? One what?" Her heart skipped a beat as she finally took his meaning, "Wait, ya mean you've been SHOT?! When did-" She paused as she remembered the two gunshots in Enrique's office and how Flash had shielded her with his body. "Oh go...why didn't you tell me?!" She practically shouted. Flash shook his head, "You were hurt, and I didn't want to worry you." He replied as he stood up and attempted to take off his jacket which was difficult with only his left arm cooperating. "Oh damn, DAMN! This is all my fault!" Ella exclaimed as she moved to help him slip out of it; the jacket was surprisingly heavier than it looked. She held it up to the light, her heart practically stopping as she caught sight of the bullet hole in the upper back. "Flash! We need to get you to a hospital!" He shook his head again, "No hospitals, we'll patch up here...but I'll need your help." He stated calmly. His voice was steady, but Ella could now tell that he was in a great deal of pain. She tossed his jacket on the floor next to the bed. "Look Flash, I'm not a nurse! I-" She gawked as she caught site of the golden vambrace on his right forearm with two curved blades connected to a mechanism on its topside. Flash didn't seem to notice her surprise as he pressed a latch-release on its underside causing a portion of the armor's underside to withdraw and slide back with a few metallic clicks. He removed the piece from his arm and set it on the desk with a dull thud. Ella stared at the strange device a second longer before she noticed Flash picking through the tool bag on the floor. He pulled out a pair of needle-nose pliers which he placed on the desk. "You still have that switchblade on you from before? He asked. Ella reached into her front pocket and pulled out the pearl-handled switchblade that she had taken off the driver Flash had knocked out when the two of them had first met and handed it to him. Flash clicked the knife open and carefully examined its double-edged blade before twirling it around with practiced ease and setting it next to the pliers. He motioned with his head, "Check that ice-box, see if there's any alcohol, please." She immediately complied and went over to check. That's why he wanted alcohol, She realized, He didn't want a drink, he wanted to patch himself up! This is crazy, this is crazy... Ella opened the fridge and found four small bottles of alcohol: two bourbon, two vodka as well as an assortment of beer and soda. She grabbed the four small bottles and left the rest. As she turned around, she suddenly froze as she saw Flash holding the tips of the pliers with his right hand up between the spread forefinger and thumb of his left hand. Ella squinted as an arc of blue electricity crackled and leaped between his two fingers, heating the tips of the pliers until they burned with a dull, red glow. He then repeated the same action with the blade of the knife. Flash held them both up and nodded, satisfied that they were now sterile enough before setting the tools back on the desk with the hot ends hanging out safely in the air. He then looked over at her and gave her a tired smile. "Come along now," He said with a weary gesture. Ella snapped out of her bewilderment and moved quickly over to him, setting the bottles down on the desk. "Right then," Flash said as he took a breath and forced himself to his feet. "I've been keeping the wound sealed by bracing the muscles around it with an electrical charge. As soon as I release it, there will probably be a lot more blood. So we'll need a towel and a washcloth." "Oh Flash," Ella groaned as she quickly went into the bathroom to retrieve them. "We really should get you to a doctor." She said as she came back out into the room and saw him trying to remove the black, short-sleeved shirt he was wearing with only his left arm. Ella set the cloths on the bed and then moved forward to assist him. "Here, let me help you with that." She said as she reached for him which caused Flash to recoil and almost topple backwards. "No, I got it!" He exclaimed with his hand raised defensively between them, a touch of rose coloring his cheeks. Ella stared in disbelief for a second before she blinked and shook her head. "Oh, will you get over here!" She snapped impatiently. Flash grimaced slightly in embarrassment before relenting and lowering his hand. "Let's put the chivalry on hold until we're both sure you're not in danger of bleeding to death, okay?! Honestly..." She grumbled. First time I actually meet a guy who doesn't want me to touch him because he's just that proper. Ella had to resist smirking at the thought. What a guy, would rather risk death than appear to be even slightly improper with a gal... She shook her head as she reached over and grabbed the bottom of his shirt, gently lifting and pulling it up over his head. Flash winced as he tried to raise his right arm, so she pulled the shirt down the limb instead. Now shirtless, he looked away from her, apparently still embarrassed. My, you're a shy one. Ella paused to stare at him for just a moment. His skin was smooth and completely hairless. All of his muscles were remarkably well-defined and formed, though not bulky. His sleek form reminded her of the lithe figure of a jungle cat or a racing horse. He looked like a sculpture. She then noticed a thick scar about two-inches long and a half-an-inch wide on the top of his left pectoral muscle. What stood out the most though, was the pair of vibrant tattoos that he bore on either shoulder of a grey kite-shield with a bright yellow lightning bolt across the front. They looked exactly like the patches on the shoulders of his jacket. However, these images appeared far sharper, and better defined than any kind of tattoo she had ever seen before! They didn't seem to be composed of ink, or any other recognizable material at all. "Those are some pretty sweet tattoos ya got there Flash, didn't think you were the type." Flash turned his head with a genuinely innocent and confused look. No, there's no way... But sure enough, he said it. "What's a tattoo?" Ella just sighed and face-palmed in disbelief. "Oh, nevermind kid," She groaned. "Just, just tell me how to fix ya." Flash nodded as he took his shirt from her and tied it around his waist in order to catch any blood that might drip. The truth was Ella was actually pretty handy at first-aid. During her enslavement, she had taken it upon herself to look after the other girls whenever they were hurt, which was more often than she cared to think about. Most of them were younger than her, and she felt drawn to look after and help them in anyway she could. It was a quality she knew that she had inherited from her mother. She was always looking to help others... Ella bit her lip as a tear threatened to come to her eye. Not now, stay focused. This kid is hurt because of you. Flash reached over and grabbed one of the pillows off of the bed before turning about and sitting backwards in the desk chair. Ella muffled a whimper with her hand as she finally saw the full extent of his wound. The bullet had struck him in the upper-right portion of his back, directly in the shoulder-blade. Dried blood was smeared all around the entrance with some of it trailing around his shoulder and down his arm. The skin around the injury showed the dark discoloration caused by internal bleeding. She watched as Flash wrapped his arms around the pillow and the back of the chair, twisting so that his right shoulder was slightly forward. Ella understood that the pillow represented how he was holding her when had he shielded her with his body. He was placing himself in the exact position he was when he was shot so that the muscles underneath the skin and flesh would match the trajectory of the entrance wound, giving her a better chance at extracting the bullet. As he did so, she noticed three more large scars, similar to the the one on his chest, along the left side of his back, arranged symmetrically as if a giant hand had clawed him. His back rose and fell as Flash took slow, steady breaths. "Basically," He began, "You want to use the knife to slightly enlarge the wound, I suggest vertical incisions. After that, use the pliers to dig in and extract the bullet, I can feel it embedded in my shoulder-blade." Ella took a breath and held it for a second before slowly letting it out. "Oh, God help me..." She muttered as she reached over and moved the adjustable desk-lamp to shine directly on the wound. Ella opened both of the vodka bottles and taking one of them, held it in front of Flash's face from behind. "Here, drink some of this." Flash shook his head. "No, I need to keep my wits about me." "Flash!" She insisted. After a moment's hesitation, he relented and took the offered bottle, taking a swig and coughing as the alcohol burned a track down his throat. Ella took the bottle back and drained the rest of it herself, just to steady her nerves. "How are we going to stitch you up after I get it out? She asked. "Let me worry about that," He replied, "Go ahead and start." He slowly drew in a breath, holding it for a moment before releasing it. Ella saw the muscles in his back twitch as they suddenly relaxed, blood began to immediately seep from the wound. Taking the washcloth in one hand, Ella grabbed the second vodka bottle and poured its contents over the area, causing Flash to hiss through clenched teeth. "Oh, sweet, blessed Celestia..." He muttered under his breath. Dabbing the area clean, Ella quickly went to work with the knife. She used slow, delicate slices to open it up just as he instructed her. Setting the knife aside, she now grabbed the pliers, opening them slightly as she began to probe into the wound. She moved slowly, wiggling them slightly back and forth as she steadily pressed them deeper into the entrance; Flash stifled a groan. Hang in there kid, I almost got it. Ella held the washcloth under the injury which was now bleeding profusely as she continued to probe. After what felt like an eternity, with her growing more uncertain with each passing second, Ella finally felt the tips of the pliers contact something a bit harder than flesh and bone. "Hang on, I think I got it..." She paused before adding, "This is probably going to hurt a lot, Flash." "Really?" He asked sarcastically, his voice strained. "I had no idea!" Ella couldn't help but smirk a little, surprised by his quip. So, you do have a bit of snark. Clamping down hard on the obstruction, Ella placed her other hand on his back around the entrance and began to steadily pull. Flash uttered an incoherent sound in agony as with a few more tugs, the pliers finally pulled free, the bullet glistening with clotted blood in the light. She looked at it closely for a second, noticing how the tip of the .45 caliber slug was slightly deformed before depositing it with a clatter on the desk. Ella quickly held the washcloth against the wound, applying pressure. It was quickly becoming saturated with blood. "I got it Flash, its out!" She said, almost crying as she said it. Ella watched as Flash pulled something out of his front pocket, his hand trembling. "Pl-place this on the injury..." He gasped, his voice shaking as he held up a glowing, violet stone. Ella stared at the strange object, mesmerized by its appearance. She took it from his hand. "Flash, what is this?" She asked. "You'll see," He replied weakly, "Just do it..." Without a second more of delay, Ella removed the cloth and placed the mysterious stone against the hideous injury. She watched with fascination as the stone flared before the wound began to miraculously knit itself back together, starting with the inner muscle and flesh. Flash grunted and arched his back slightly at the sensation. It was almost fully closed before the light in the stone suddenly went out and the injury stopped healing. There was still a small, raw opening and the skin surrounding it was still fairly bruised. Ella didn't even know what to ask at first as she did not comprehend what had just happened. "I, I don't get it, why did it stop?" Flash was panting hard, sweat pouring down his face as he turned around in the chair and took the now dull stone from her hand. "Because it's out of mana," He said as he looked at the stone before pocketing it. "It's a sealing crystal that contains a basic healing spell. I used it earlier on Ashley, and then you. Guess there wasn't enough left to finish the job on me." Flash rolled his shoulder experimentally, wincing slightly. "Still, that's good enough for now. It'll have to do." He moved to stand up but staggered, almost falling over before Ella caught and steadied him. "Sorry," He said sheepishly, his cheeks flushing slightly as he straightened up, "Thanks." "What," She sputtered, "What do you mean...what is going on, WHAT IS ALL THIS?!" Ella shouted as tears began to form in her eyes. Her shoulder's rose and fell as she breathed hard, looking him directly in the eyes with a look that demanded answers. "Who are you Flash?!" Flash stared at her a moment, noticing how her hands were stained with his blood. He gave her a small, reassuring smile. "Alright," He said softly. "Let's get cleaned up first, and then I'll tell you everything, I promise." Ella stared at the rock-glass in her hands as she sat cross legged on the corner of the bed, the ice had long since melted away, leaving her with with a small amount of diluted bourbon. Flash sat across from her in the armchair, rolling a now empty rock-glass between his fingers that he had earlier filled with orange juice from the fridge. Both of them had showered, Flash of course insisting that she go first which Ella thought ridiculous as he was the one covered in blood. She was wearing her fresh change of clothes, another pair of faded jeans and a dark blue shirt. Flash had his black shirt on once more. After he had thoroughly rinsed it of blood, he had passed an electric current through it, drying it instantly. He explained that all of his clothing was specially tailored from a unique fabric designed to not burn up whenever he used that ability. For nearly an hour, Flash had done his best to explain to her what he was; beginning with where he came from, what it was like, how he was raised, and why he was now here. Ella had simply stared at him in stunned silence for the most part, only speaking when she asked him to repeat himself or explain a particular detail. All in all, he thought she took it rather well. Ella took a deep swallow from her glass as he finished. "So," She mumbled, "How did you get those other scars on your back?" Flash gave a mirthless laugh as a shadow seemed to pass over his face, "A very...ill-tempered centaur and I had a disagreement of sorts." He replied. It was such a random question, Ella wasn't even sure why she had asked it. Her mind was utterly swimming with an overload of impossible and downright ridiculous information that Flash had been telling her for the last hour. She didn't even react to his answer "I have a feeling that you're having a bit of trouble believing me." Flash added after gauging her lack of response. Ella scoffed to herself. Ponies...a world of magical, freaking, ponies... She looked up from her glass, "You know, it would be much more believable if you just said you were an alien from anotha' planet, or some kinda secret government super-soldier or somthin'." She deadpanned. This caused Flash to smile and chuckle a little. "Sounds like you've read too many comic books haha, ooh, hurts to laugh..." He said as he reached over his shoulder to rub it. Ella pursed her lips and looked away for a moment. "And you were raised by a pony?" She asked, hardly believing that she was asking something that sounded so utterly ludicrous. Flash smiled and nodded. "She raised me as her own." "And they talk...do they look like the ponies here?" Flash shrugged, "I don't know, what do your ponies look like?" Ella responded by pulling out her phone and performing a quick image search before holding it up for him to see. Flash leaned forward and squinted at the screen before he frowned, shaking his head as he sat back. "Well, they're similar, but where I come from their muzzles are much shorter, and they have larger heads and eyes with much more expressive faces." Ella nodded as she tried to come up with a mental picture. She noticed that Flash was now holding the bullet she had pulled out of him earlier between his fingers as he curiously scrutinized it. "It's a wonder that thing didn't punch right through you," She muttered, still feeling painfully guilty. Flash tilted his head in thought before responding. "Well, there's a material called 'armor-weave' sewn into the lining of my jacket. It's made to resist blades and stabbing weapons, but not this. Still, might have slowed it down a bit." He said as he replaced the projectile back on the desk. "That, and I've learned that I'm far more durable than humans without magic. The magic in Equestrians makes us strong." Ella looked up. "How strong?" Flash paused a moment in thought. "Hard to say really, you all seem pretty fragile." He said as he paused again before saying, "I'd say five, maybe ten times stronger?" Ella shook her head slightly in disbelief. Feeling self-conscious, Flash quickly tried to make it sound less impressive, "But I'm nowhere near as strong compared to many other ponies from where I come." He gave an nervous laugh. "Any stout earth pony, for example, could easily lift more than me. Heck, I'm friends with a good farm-mare who could fold me into a square if she really wanted to, and don't get me started on her older brother." Ella didn't seem to respond, her eyes were distant as she took a sip from her glass. "And how fast are you?" At this, Flash glanced away, appearing slightly flustered. "Well, I don't have wings so I've never quite been able to break the sound barrier, but I've gotten close. In comparison to some pegasi, my best friend for example? She can go ten-times that fast..." He muttered. "But I can move pretty quick when I need to for short bursts." Pegasi She scoffed in her mind. "And those images on your shoulders, they're called?" Flash glanced at his now covered shoulder. "Cutie Marks," He replied which caused her to chuckle incredulously as she face-palmed at the silly-sounding name. Well, you certainly are a cutie, Flash Ella thought with a small smile. He continued, "A pony gets them when they discover their true purpose in life." This got Ella's attention. 'And what is your purpose, Flash?" She asked. Flash looked steadily at her before saying, "To protect others." Ella's hands tightened their grip on her glass. Is that why you've been protecting me? Why Flash, why are you risking so much for me? You've been hurt, you could've been... She shook her head before downing the rest of her drink. "Huh, must be nice having something that tells you your life's purpose." Flash smiled at her. "I believe everypony, er, everyone has a common purpose in life." He said. "All of our different talents are meant to contribute to harmony, to help each other grow in love and become better individuals. It's kinda like an orchestra that has many different instruments. By themselves, they can each make their own song. But playing together in harmony, they create one, beautiful symphony." Ella looked down at the empty glass in her hands as she absorbed his philosophy, not sure of what to say. Is it really that simple for you, Flash? You have such an innocent outlook on things. His eyes suddenly appeared distant as he began to speak again but in a more solemn, serious tone. "It's when others choose to waste their talents, or worse, use them for selfish gain, to harm others...that's when you have suffering...that's when you get an Enrique." No sooner had Flash spoken that name when the thick glass he was holding suddenly shattered in his grip, causing Ella to flinch. He hardly seemed to even notice as he stared with dead eyes at the few bits of glass now sticking into his palm that drew pin-pricks of blood. He blinked as if shaken from sleep. "I'm, I'm sorry...I didn't mean to..." Flash slid out of his chair and got to his knees, his head bowed as he began to gather up the fragments from the carpet. "Flash..." Ella murmured as she immediately got on her knees to help him. His hands brushed hers aside as he continued to mindlessly gather up the shattered glass. "I...I didn't...I didn't want to..." "Flash," "I mean, I hoped I could..." "FLASH!" Ella shouted as she grabbed onto his shoulders and shook them. He stopped picking up the glass before slowly raising his head. Ella felt her heart finally break as she saw the rivulets of tears that were now pouring down his cheeks. I've ruined him. This sweet, innocent kid... Ella glared at him despite the tears forming in her own eyes, "Don't you even..." She whispered as she slowly shook her head while maintaining eye contact with him. "Don't you dare blame yourself for what happened back there." Flash stared back at her but said nothing. "That's on me. I put you in that position, me!" Flash could barely register her words as conflict raged within him. On one hand, he knew that he had only done his duty as a soldier, that it was a righteous kill made in self-defense and the defense of another. That he had no other choice; it was him or them. At the same time, it felt as if something had broken within him, something he could never get back. I've taken a life...I've killed someone, my own kind. I'm a killer. After he had blasted Enrique, he had followed his training and was able to compartmentalize his action to one side in order to focus on his next objective, getting them both to safety. His next focus was to heal and then explain himself to Ella. With these objectives now accomplished, the sheer magnitude of what he had actually done was presently crashing down upon him with the weight of the entire universe. He felt like throwing up. Letting go of one of his shoulders, Ella slowly reached up towards the side of his face to gently brush a tear away with her thumb. She hesitated for a second as he flinched at her touch. Trying again, she succeeded, resting her hand against his warm cheek while giving him a sad, but consoling smile as she attempted to ease his pain. "I'm so sorry, Flash. Sorry for everything I did." Looking deep into his unique eyes, Ella felt something spark within the dark confines of her heart, something she had not felt for a very long time: compassion for a man. For the last five years, men had done nothing but lie to her, manipulate her, use and hurt her; and she hated them all for it. But this young man was different. Ever since meeting him earlier that day, he had shown her nothing but deference, respect, compassion, and care. And how had she repaid him? With condescension, manipulation, and lies, all while belittling his noble character as unrealistic and silly. Meanwhile, he had protected her, bled for her, and now because of her selfishness, even killed and lost his innocence for her. I've become so callous, I didn't even know how to accept kindness anymore. I've treated him like garbage...God knows he deserves better than me... Flash's mind had emptied as he floated on a sense of surrealism. Never before in his life had he felt another human hand on his face other than his own. Never before had he experienced such an intimate gesture, this 'human' connection. It felt so soothing on his raw emotions as her kind gesture began to bring him back into focus. Get it together soldier...do your duty. He shuddered as he slowly reached up and placed his hand over hers, gently gripping it, the contact causing his heart to flutter. Compared to his hand, hers felt so soft, so delicate. I've got to get her out of here, she needs to be safe. Once she's safe, I can figure out what to do next. A renewed sense of determination began to take hold in his heart. He reluctantly pulled her hand away from his face, giving it a soft squeeze before releasing it. "Thank you, Ella. It's alright. I'll be alright." Flash rose to his feet as he turned around and covered his face with both hands, taking a deep breath before letting it out as he wiped the tears from his face. He coughed and cleared his throat. Ella remained on her knees for a moment, looking up at him in wonder. You're thanking me?! She thought as she stood up, I'm the one who should be thanking you, for the rest of my life! Flash gave his head a shake before turning around to face her, he gave her another tired smile. "It's late, we should get some rest. You take the bed, I'll take the armchair." Ella knew better than to argue that point with him, so she let it go. "What do you plan to do?" She asked. "Tomorrow? Get you out of town." He replied. "Why?" Flash gave her a serious look. "Because this isn't over Ella, not by a long-shot. There's no way a loser like Enrique was the top dog in this chain. We've stirred up a hornet's nest. I've got to get you out of here, you won't be safe until I do." Ella shook her head angrily. "No, I mean why are you doing this?!" He paused as she brushed a half-dried tear from the corner of one eye before continuing. "You barely even know me! Why are you still helping me?! " Flash stared a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Because I want to." He firmly replied. "I chose to help you, and by Celestia, I'm going to see that through. I won't stop until I know you're safe." Ella scoffed and shook her head as she rubbed her temple with one hand. "Then what?" To this, Flash shook his head. "Not sure. Probably go back to Equestria, plan my next move from there." Ella gave another sarcastic scoff, "We Earthlings really didn't make a good first impression for you, huh?" Flash huffed as a sad smile softened his face. "I wouldn't exactly write home about it, no." He turned and grabbed his vambrace off the desk, sliding it onto his right forearm and locking it back in place. "Don't worry about me, Ella. I can take care of myself." He then grabbed his jacket and put it on again, wincing slightly as he put his right arm through the sleeve. "We'll discuss it in the morning. For now, let's just get some rest." Ella laid completely still under the warm blankets of the soft bed, still fully clothed. She had laid there wide awake for the first hour, trying to order her thoughts while planning her next move. Flash had turned the armchair towards the entrance of the room so that she was out of his line of sight. The chair was currently reclined, the mostly dark room making it somewhat difficult to tell if he was truly asleep. Eventually, she heard the telltale sound of deep breathing as sleep finally took hold of him. As quietly as she could, Ella slipped out from under the covers, putting on her shoes, and gathering up her belongings. Sneaking over to the writing desk, she scribbled out a quick note of farewell, thanking Flash for all of his help. As she slipped by the armchair, Ella paused to look down at the young man who had done so much for her. Even in the dim light spilling through the partially closed curtains, she could see his eyes dancing beneath his eyelids as he dreamed. You're too pure for a gal like me, Flash. I'm...damaged. I can only bring you down. She slowly reached down and brushed aside a lock of his silvery hair that had fallen across his forehead. Any girl would be lucky to have ya. Placing a kiss on two of her fingers, she gently touched them to the side of his soft face, lingering there for a moment before she withdrew them. Whoever you are, wherever you're from, I hope you find what you're looking for kid. Thanks for everything...thanks for caring... Ella turned away as tears threatened to come to her eyes again. Moving silently, she carefully opened the door, looking back at Flash's sleeping form one last time before sliding out into the hallway. It's better this way, Ella sniffed and wiped the corner of her eye as she walked towards the elevator. He's resourceful, he doesn't need my help for anything. She stopped in front of the elevator and pushed the descent button, resting her weight on one foot as she waited for the doors to open. In an attempt to distract herself from what she was doing, Ella's thoughts turned to when she had first met Flash the previous day. As she replayed those events in her mind, something began to bother her, a question from earlier that she hadn't given the time to fully process. How the hell did Damian know where to find me? I got away clean, nobody saw me... As she absentmindedly reached for her front pocket in order to grab her phone, the sheer horror of the realization hit her harder than Enrique ever did. The phone... A chime sounded as the elevator doors slid open. Ella looked up, her breath catching in her throat as she caught sight of the two burly men in dark overcoats and leather gloves standing inside. Both of them stared at her with unfriendly eyes which widened slightly in surprise for a second before narrowing in hostility again. The one on the left slowly drew a pistol with a glossy, black suppressor on its muzzle from his coat pocket and pointed it at her while simultaneously raising a single finger to his mouth, a wry smile tugging at his lips. The color drained from Ella's face as terror seized hold of her, but it wasn't the gun that her eyes were fixed on. It was the bruised and battered face of the third man who stepped out from behind the other two, the last face she ever wanted to see again. Damian's mouth curled into a ghastly smile, the bruising in his face having discolored even his front teeth, giving him the looks to match his winning personality. "Hey babe," He whispered as he stepped up in front of her. Ella couldn't breath, she couldn't think, she couldn't even move as everything seemed to die inside her. "Where is he, huh? Where's your soldier-boy?"