The Fangs looked around the ruined hive. Their home was destroyed, and many of their friends dead. They looked around, as the injured changelings were wheeled away, loaded onto the wagons and carried away.
Thorax was last to be carried away, per his request. But he looked at the Fangs, silently begging for them to bring his brother back. They nodded, turning to Griffax. They stared at him.
“What?”
“Where are they taking him?” Blue asked.
Griffax thought. “Probably the base in Saddle Arabia. But they’ll have to take a train there.”
“Not another train…” Hive mumbled.
Griffax nodded. “Yep. That, or they’re taking him to Borax’s estate.”
“It would make sense…”
Mitchell thought for a bit. “Hm… I’ll take the train. You guys can take the estate.”
“You sure man?”
“Yeah. I can take a train myself.” He grabbed his sidehoof. “I’ll see y’all on the other side.”
They nodded and left for the estate. Mitchell sighed, looking at the flintlock. He then stepped away, heading for a train station.
~~~
Mitchell stepped onto the train. He had noticed the conductor being escorted away from the train by some goons, who boarded soon after. He sat down, the flintlock tucked away in his jacket, as well as a single dynamite stick. He sighed, looking around.
“What do you mean?!”
Mitchell and the other passengers looked over. A wealthy looking pony was being denied entrance to the private cabin.
“I’m sorry sir. All the private cabins have been rented out.”
“By who?!”
“Mister Borax.” The guard grabbed the pony’s hoof.
The pony yanked his hoof away. “Don’t touch me.” He walked off, growling. The train began moving.
Mitchell grabbed his radio. “Guys, Borax is here. Did you find Pharynx?”
‘Yeah. Borax isn’t here though. One of his guards said he’s on a train.”
Mitchell nodded. “Checks out.” He stood. “I’ll see y’all on the other side.”
‘Wait, wha—’
Mitchell switched off his radio and walked towards the guarded door. He sighed.
You only live once…
With that, he yanked out the flintlock and shot the guard in the chest. The other passengers screamed and backed away as the guard slumped over. Mitchell kicked down the door, pulling out his sidehoof and firing at two other terrorists. He moved through the cabins, firing at the terrorists. He didn’t bother counting.
Just fire, kill, reload, repeat…
And that’s what he did. His own dance of death. He expected one, just one, piece of shrapnel to slice his stomach and spill his guts out. But that never happened. He looked around. Everything that wasn’t him was dead. He panted, clutching the crossbow in one hoof and flintlock in the other. He sighed, walking towards the door. He opened it, noticing Borax talking to the terrorist who was driving the train. Borax didn’t expect for the terrorist to get shot. Borax immediately turned around.
“N-Nightbite!”
Mitchell narrowed his eyes, raising the flintlock. “It’s over. You’re dead.”
Before Mitchell could kill the traitorous bug, another terrorist stepped out and tackled Mitchell. The two wrestled as Borax made his way to the flintlock and, picking it up. The terrorist kicked Mitchell towards the train engine.
The changeling groaned as his opponents stood over him. He looked up, growling.
Borax shook his head. “I thought you were better, Nightbite. But I guess I was wrong. You can’t teach an old dog new tricks.” He pointed the flintlock at Mitchell.
Mitchell glared. But he soon remembered…
The dynamite.
“Goodbye Nightbite.”
Mitchell grinned. “It’s Mitchell.”
With that, he tossed the dynamite into the engine’s furnace, causing it to explode and send half the car fallingbelow. The explosion also took out the bridge they’d been riding on. The car began to lean, and the two terrorists lost their balance. Whilst Borax was able to grab onto Mitchell’s wooden leg, the other terrorist was not so lucky.
He begged for help before he fell to his certain doom, another explosion engulfing him.
Now, it was just Mitchell holding onto a seat and Borax hanging from his wooden leg.
“Night! Pull me up!”
Mitchell looked down. “And why should I do that?!”
“You know you’re gonna die either way! Midnight would want you to save someone!”
“Not your traitorous ass!”
“Nightbite, come on! Pull me up! It’s the only thing you can do!”
Mitchell looked over. The flintlock was too far to reach. He looked around, before noticing a fire axe a few inches away. He reached up for it, grasping it.
“Ah, you grabbed something of use, I assume?”
“Yes. I have.” He looked down at Borax, grasping the axe. Borax’s eyes widened as Mitchell raised the axe. “Say hi to Hades for me.”
With that, Mitchell brought the axe down onto his wooden leg, hacking it off. Borax held onto the leg as he fell to his death.
“Nightbiiiiiiite!!”
Mitchell watched as Borax was engulfed in the flames. He panted as the axe fell from his hoof. He found himself being lifted up by the other Fangs. He looked at them.
“Borax… is… E.K.I.A.…”
They nodded. “Good job Mitchell…” Hive said.
Mitchell chuckled. “We’ve won…”