A Spy who walks alone Chapter 1
The Colt yawned and rolled out of bed, his gentle white wings dropped feathers on the hard stone floor. He walked into the kitchen looking for his mother and noticed a yellow piece of notepaper on the table. He sat down to read it.
"Dear Rigros, my only child. I had to leave you. It hurts me so much to know that I won't see you grow up into the stallion I know you’ll be. I'm dying. I've contracted a rare disease and had to flee to prevent you from catching it. Just remember, I love you and always will. Your Mummy."
Rigros started to cry. His whole body was racked with sobs and he sat in his chair for an hour before he got up and began packing his bag. Rigros wondered “where I will go”. He thought long and hard about where to go and decided to head to the nearby schooling house. He walks slowly through the streets and is sneered at and jeered at. The news spread fast that he was an orphan, and ponies looked down and could care less about him. He notices bodies lying on the cold stone ground. Looking closer at one he noticed a silver object, a gun. He quickly ran to the dead pony and wrenched the gun from the dead pony’s hoof. He put in his yellow backpack which was falling apart at the seams. The revolver itself, which will one day be Rigs signature weapon, was silver, with a pony’s laughing head made out of metal on the bottom of the grip. The chamber could hold 6 forty-five caliber bullets and could inflict devastating wounds at close distance. Rig sighed filing it away for later use.
He missed his mother, but if he were to survive he would have to become cold and brutal. After a while walking Rigros sat down and dropped his backpack down next to him. He sighed reached in and pulled out a sandwich that he had made before leaving home. He sat down and lifelessly chewed on it. At the age of six he was alone and wandering the streets. He even had a gun for Celestia’s sake. A colt of six should be playing being carefree. Yet Rigros felt something inside. Maybe this was the best thing for him. He felt the bruises his beast of a father had inflicted on him and he knew his mother was beaten and, for a split second, he felt like using his new gun and hunting his father down. “No” he thought, “that would lead to more pain.” He then found an empty ditch, picked up his bag, climbed into it, and curled up to sleep. His grey mane and blue eyes almost blended in with the ditch. The only give away he was sleeping in the ditch, was his wings were stark white. “Tomorrow I will find the school,” he thought, “and ask for lodging.” He smiled at the thought and drifted off into sleep. The nightmares came thick and fast. Just as he fell asleep his mind was assaulted by a graphic nightmare of his mother leering at him like a diseased maniac. His father drew back the cane and smiled.
"Time for you to be punished for running away!"
Rigros screamed and woke up in a cold sweat. Sighing, he turned over in the ditch and shut his eyes thinking that tomorrow would be a better day.
The next morning Rigros woke up and crawled out of the ditch, grabbing his backpack. Even though the school house was close, and there were other ponies close to Rigros's age, it was still another mile or two. He moaned, swung his backpack on to his back, and set off at a slow steady trot. Sighing, Rigros opened up his wings and decided to attempt to use them to speed himself up. This tactic worked for a while, but he was tiring. He landed with a huff and kept walking. He was about half way to the school house when he felt he was being watched. Rigros quickly scanned his surroundings but found no one in the immediate area. He kicked a rock, muttered something, and walked on. Now he just had to go past a small river and he would reach the school. Rigros had been home schooled and never been to a proper school, so he was heavily unprepared for the experience. However, a larger problem would come first. How would he cross the river. Rigros decided to try and run straight across. Gathering up his speed he dashed across the water making loud splashes. Somehow, this tactic worked and he made it across the stream. He saw the school and, with the last amount of stamina he had left, dashed up to the door, knocked his hoof on it, and fell to the ground.