//------------------------------// // Chapter 3: Stress // Story: The Interrogation // by Reik //------------------------------// “You never start with the head, it makes the victim all fuzzy.” Franz mumbled through clenched teeth. For a second the pressure was relieved as the mare brought her hoofs away from his face, yet the relief was quickly ended as they fell once more on the earth ponies face, breaking his nose. Stepping away, and leaving Franz sprawled on the rooms floor, the blue pony returned to her previous station, suppressed rage painted on her features. Slowly regaining his stance, Franz leaned against the wall for support, red dripping from his damaged nostrils. His first thought was to question the mental stability of the blue pony, albeit in a more vulgar manner. Yet he held back this instinct, wanting to show no signs of weakness or loss of control, he needed to maintain the upper hand. The silence was broken quickly by the blue mare. “Don’t test me ass, this doesn’t have to be difficult, now why did you do it?” She spoke in a more controlled manner than before, the assault evidently venting a surprisingly large amount of rage. Wondering how they would respond to much a statement, Franz grinned and blurted out. “I have absolutely no fucking idea what happened last night bitch.” The phrase slowly descended into near maniacal laughter as it left his mouth. As his sides ached with the bellowing laughter and metallic drops of blood touched his lips, he imagined what the ponies’ expression must be. Anger, shock, or confusion, all would be equally satisfactory. Instead, he was met with a hoof to the gut and his neck pinned against the wall by the blue ponies hoof. “You lying piece of shit, why did you do it?” Spitting a hopefully nasty mixture of saliva and blood in the mares face, Franz responded. “I can’t remember anything, I’m not shitting y-” Another hoof to the stomach cut his sentence short. In his thoughts, the broken stallion wondered how much more of this he could take, the lack of knowledge, beatings, flashbacks, he felt as if he would go mad under such conditions. “Bullshit you can’t, why did you do it.” Another impact to the stomach. “YOU FUCKING COMMIE, you said they would’ve been on patrol by now!” Franz roared with his near exhausted lungs. Extending a hoof and catching the metal pillar of a street lamp, the cloaked pony in front of Franz swung around a corner, mimicking his actions, Franz swung around the corner and was caught by the cloaked pony, who wrapped his hooves around the fleeing stallion and pulled him into darkness. Breathing heavily, Franz’s mouth was quickly covered by the cloaked pony. As his heart pounded and lungs ached, Franz focused his eyes and examined their refuge. It was a much smaller alley than the one they were in before firebombing the guard post, its width only capable of holding three ponies flank to flank. There was no other exit to this alley, only a wall at its end that bore a single, modest door. Unlike the other alley, little to no snow covered its floor. Behind him, Franz heard collected voices and a thunder of hooves, images of massed charges down the alley, trampling him and his ally filled his mind. As quickly as it had come, the barrage stopped, signaling that the guards had continued down the street and away from the duo. Releasing his grip, the cloaked pony rose and dusted himself off. Gasping for air, Franz shut his eyes and swallowed air like a parched pony would consume water at an oasis. As his breathing calmed and some amount strength returned to his muscles, Franz noticed the cloak pony begin to stare at him intently. Retuning the gaze, the cloaked pony spoke. “Are you ready to move?” He spoke in a calm collected tone Franz would not gave expected from one who had just bombed a guard post or fled the royal warriors of Princess Celestia for four blocks. Failing to respond in time, the cloaked pony continued. “Follow me.” The pony spun around and began advancing down the alley. Franz momentarily cursed the urge to follow. He could not trace the emotion, but he didn’t want to follow for the sake of following. Noticing his lack of movement, the cloaked pony called out as he moved deeper into the alley, darkness slowly consuming him. “You do not have to follow, however in your case; this path would be the most fulfilling.” For several seconds Franz took in what the pony had said. After decoding that delving deeper into this new path than trying to find a new one, Franz rose on shaking hooves and began to follow the cloaked pony. As they reached the end of the alley, the cloaked pony withdrew a small ring of keys from one of his pockets and began flipping through the collection. Upon their arrival at the portal, and upon his selection of the correct key, the cloaked pony inserted the piece of silver metal in to the lock and began undoing the tumblers. As he inched the door open, Franz blurted out a question he was surprised he had not already put forth. He spoke in a hushed tone, as if the royal guard was just behind his shoulder. “What is your name?” It was a question the two had not exchanged, or at least he could not remember them exchanging the phrase. The door swung open quickly, revealing a large room. In the center there was a single table, containing several scrolls, quills, and vials of ink. Along one wall was a collection of blankets that Franz assumed to serve as the occupants bedding. Along the opposite wall was a collection of maps, articles, and papers all pinned to the wall in what looked to Franz like an incomprehensible mess. Along the other two walls, was an exotic assortment of arms. Spears, swords, daggers, halberds, scythes, and bows, all showing signs of expert care and craftsmanship. As followed the pony through the doorway and gaped at the wide assortment of deadly weapons, the cloaked pony answered. “My name is not of any importance; however you may call me Echo.” Franz coughed violently and casted several specks of blood onto the blue mares mane. "Ok, this is going nowhere; I don't want to talk to you anymore." Franz gasped as his throat was further constricted by the mare, akin to a snake strangling its prey. Whether due to his remark or ulterior motives, the mare pulled away. Sliding down to the floor in a moaning mess, Franz shut his eyes and slowly slipped into agony as his injuries throbbed. “This is fucking pathetic, give me a few minutes, I’ve got to get this blood out, good luck Fluttershy.” He heard the blue mare say, quickly followed by hoofsteps, the opening and then closing of the large door. Pushing through the pain, Franz retreated to his thoughts. *Crap, I really pulled some shit this time.* *This time? You never pulled shit, period, asshole.* *Whatever, I’m in deep shit and I don’t know what I’m going to do about it.* *Could ask the blue bitch to smack us around a little bit more, that seems to jog your memories* *I don’t like getting hit, and I don’t think I can take much more without blacking out.* *Who knows, maybe you’ll remember that you’re a freak who gets hot from getting hit, oh, pink haired cunt is talking.* Franz mumbled several incoherent ramblings as his vision refocused and the image before him became clear. The light yellow mare who had been called ‘Fluttershy’ stood before Franz, a fearful yet sympathetic smile on her features. Noticing that her lips where moving, the bleeding stallion strained his ears to pick up the voice. “Um, I’m sorry my friend, uh, hit you but, err, why did you, um, do it?” The words came out slow at first but picked up pace towards the end. Staring at the mare for several seconds, Franz cried out in a tone that personified annoyance and disbelief. “Are you fucking shitting me?”