//------------------------------// // Chapter five: Preparation // Story: Darkly Dreaming // by Connor Shadows //------------------------------// Darkly Dreaming Chapter Five Preparation Dexter sprinted to Ponyville’s train station and wanted to board as quickly as he could. He bumped into a few of ponies on his way there, one particularly gruff and imposing stallion tried roughly to get him apologize for Dexter’s rudeness. Dexter’s apology was quick and fell short of what the stallion wanted. Dexter threw a swift and strong kidney punch and of course the stallion fell down in pain, but Dexter didn't break his quick stride to check if the poor guy was ok he had more important things to attend too. Dexter was now almost to the train station when he was shoved from behind causing him to jerk forward but nothing else. He turned around quickly with an animalistic fury in his eyes. The stallion he had punched regained his wits and caught up with him. Dexter looked him over. He was bigger than Dexter but only just a little. He was grey with a black main and tail. He had an olive bandanna, his main fell out of it in a frayed braid that looked like an old rope and was not attractive. He looked mad. “You think you can just sucker punch me and run off! Who the hell do you think you are?” “If you don’t leave me alone you’ll find out,” Dexter hissed in his monotone voice. He didn't have time for a fight with this guy. But he didn't have a choice as soon as he finished his sentence the angry stranger lunged at him and tackled him to the ground. Dexter let the momentum of the tackle work for him, he rolled with his petty foe and kicked him off, monkey flip style. He went flying as Dexter rolled to his hooves. He landed in a heap a few feet away. He started to fumble to his feet, but he never got up, at least not on his own. Dexter yanked him up off the ground and followed through with an over handed hay-maker to the head. With the same hoof he then delivered another kidney punch to the same kidney and an agonizing grunt fallowed. Before the stallion hit the ground again, Dexter delivered a jaw-jacking elbow to his face knocking him out cold. The encounter took less than few moments but Dexter knew that guy would feel it in the morning. Dexter began running to train station once again. Dexter knew he wouldn't have to worry about that guy messing with him again. This caused him to laugh. Poor dude hope I didn't hurt him too bad. “I have to go home get what I need, get back, and finish the kill room before she gets back,” he explained to himself as he sat on the moving train. “I’ll lose an hour from the train rides. I wish I were a Pegasus; it would make travel a lot faster. Dexter tried to stay calm as the train ride continued, his worrying wouldn’t make it go any faster, but as the minutes went by he became more and more anxious that his kill would have to wait for another night. His dark passenger crept into his thoughts and calmed him down with a new thought, “If she’s there when you get back we’ll just try tomorrow.” After an antagonizing thirty minutes Dexter exited the train and took off into a full gallop, his duster’s tail flapping in the wind like a superhero’s cape, towards his house. However, he was far from a superhero, his rush was caused by his need to end the life of another. Dexter had made it to his apartment building and was climbing the stairs when it occurred to him, “What am I going to tell Ditzy Doo?” It wasn’t dark yet she wasn’t going to be asleep. Dexter got out his phone and checked the time as he reached the door of his apartment ‘6:05 p.m.’ “Maybe I’ll get lucky,” he thought optimistically as he opened the door of his apartment. Harrison was right where he left him in his highchair at the table. He wasn't in his pajamas anymore; instead he was in a white shirt that said “My Dad’s A Killer” in big red letters. Dexter had gotten that shirt for him; he thought it was quite humorous because of the truth it actually told. Harrison turned around when he heard his father shut the door he lit up and yelled, “Daddy’s home!” Ditzy Doo had been busying herself with something cooking on the stove, when she heard Harrison’s yelling, she turned around and saw Dexter patting his son on the head. “Hey Dexter, you’re home earlier than I thought,” she said a little happy at the possibility she could go home soon; watching Harrison could be exhausting. “Yeah, sorry but I’m only here to grab some stuff,” Dexter blurted out apologetically as he left his son and walked towards the hallway that led to the other rooms of the house. Her ears drooped a little, “Oh man, really? I thought I’d be getting home before dark when you came in the door.” As Dexter quickly entered the hallway, Ditzy saw the tail of his new light brown, duster flapping in the wind of his fast movements. “Hey!” Ditzy called loudly so Dexter could hear her now that he was out of the room. “Where’d you get that coat?” Dexter had already gotten to his room and was about to open his closet when he heard her. “I got it at this place called ‘Jackets Galore’ in Ponyville. You ever been?” “No.” “I was only in there a few minutes and the owner found exactly what I wanted. That guy's good at his job,” Dexter shouted out so quickly that Ditzy could tell he was in hurry, so she didn't ask him anymore questions. “Okay. Maybe I’ll go sometime.” Dexter’s closet was now open and he pulled out a large, square chest. Its exterior was black leather on the back and front, two metal belts ran down the length of the sides. Dexter opened the heavy lid and pulled all the papers and keepsakes out of the box and placed them on the floor next to him in a neat pile. Dexter then noticed he hadn't shut his door. So he quickly shut and locked it. I don’t want anyone to walk in on me when I’m doing this. He went back to the box and reached in. He then pushed it back to reveal a concealed clasp and grabbed under the false bottom of the box. Dexter then lifted it out quietly and placed it on the other side of the chest. He reached back in and pulled out a rolled up bundle of heavy cloth. Dexter then went over to his now made bed. “Ditzy made my bed that was nice of her,” he noticed as he unrolled the cloth so he could see what it contained. The cloth was lined with a set of neatly, vertically placed knives. There were ten knives in all, all of different types. Some were straight and simple, like his fillet knife and his large thick bladed kitchen knife, others were curved and threatening, like his one hunting knife that was supposed to be used to gut animals. At the end of the row of knifes was a razor sharp scalpel; these where his killing tools. He grabbed a small, black duffle bag from his chest. He unzipped the largest pocket and checked its contents. There was enough plastic wrap to hold down even the strongest of individuals, and that was just what he was going use it for. There was also a large, black, rubber apron, it protected his clothes from spills, a lock picking kit and a small box of latex gloves. Dexter rolled up his bundle of knives and placed them in the bag with the plastic wrap. “That’s all I need now to change,” thought Dexter after he put the false bottom and keepsakes back in and closed the chest. Dexter took off his Pink shirt and traded it for an army green, long-sleeved, cotton shirt. He then put on a pair black cargo pants. He then checked its left leg pocket to see if his black leather gloves were there—they were. He used these gloves so he wouldn't leave a trace when braking in to places and setting up the kill room. Dexter picked up the syringe from his other shirt and put it in his right side pocket. He then picked up his phone, checked the time, and slipped it in to his other side pocket. Lastly, he put his lock picking tools in with his syringe. Dexter then grabbed his duffle bag and made his way to the front door of the apartment. “Be back as soon as I can,” Dexter announced flatly as he opened the door. “Okay, bye Dex. Say bye to your dad Harry,” said Ditzy from the stove where she was cooking something, Dexter had no idea what it was he nor did he care as he was now consumed by a haze of blood lust. Harrison looked a little pouty from the fact his dad was already leaving again, but he whined out, “Bye Daddy.” Dexter shut the door of his home and set at a brisk pace down the concrete walkway. There was now a steady stream of crimson going through his vision. “Now to rid the world of another monster,” his dark passenger now free and excited.