Break
Discord watched as Ryan pulled the man by his hair into the building. He couldn’t help but fear what was about to happen, and even feel sorry for the poor soul being dragged.
He looked over to Harris, who, still looking in the direction that the car had gone, was totally clueless about the whole situation. He floated over to Harris. “Hey, Harris.” he said. Harris shook his head.
“He got away. I can’t believe he got away.” Harris fell to the ground. “We were so close.” Discord sat before Harris cross-legged, and crossed his arms.
“Look. You’ll have another chance.” Discord pointed at the building. “But there’s a little something going on in there that is kind of important. I’d suggest that you get in there and help out.” Harris looked at Discord, a horrified expression exploding onto his face.
“Wait, did Ryan take that guy in there?” Discord nodded slowly. “I think I’ll let Ryan handle this.” Discord shot up into the air.
“That’s exactly why I want you to go in there. You shouldn’t let him handle this.”
Harris stood up and paced, arms crossed and a frown all the way across his face. “Why not? He’s handled everything so far. As far as I can see, he’s done a pretty good job.” He pointed an accusing finger at the spirit of chaos. “What have you been doing, huh? How have you been handling any of this?” Discord puffed up his chest, but before he had a chance to respond, Harris kept ranting at him. “You don’t know what this all is. You’ve been just floating off to the side in your safety, while WE’VE been getting shot at! We’ve almost died on several occasions! And You suppose that you can tell ME what I should do? You, who have done NOTHING?!” Discord’s face scrunched in fury at the allegations. “Why the Hell should I trust you?!” Discord was about to release his full rage upon Harris, but ceased his thoughts for a moment.
“No, yelling won’t help anyone.” he thought. He took a deep breath and let it out very slowly, like s summer breeze on a meadow. “Because I’ve been pulling strings from behind the scenes and you know that. You think that family would’ve let you stay with them if I hadn’t ‘encouraged’ them too?” Harris looked away, contemplating everything that was being said. Sure, Discord had been helping from the sidelines. He could control a lot of things, and he had.
Wait a minute. “So you can influence what happens, huh?” Harris asked flatly. Discord looked at him with narrow eyes, wondering what Harris was going towards.
“Yes, I can.”
Harris whipped around, a look of absolute rage superimposed on his face. His teeth were bared and his nostrils were wide, huffing angrily. “THEN WHY DID NARENDRA GET AWAY?! WHY HAVE WE HAD TO BE DOING ANY OF THIS?!” he howled. Discord stopped in his tracks. He had thought about doing that when he first arrived, but chose not to for reasons of personal satisfaction. Looking back, he realized that that may not have been the best course of action.
“Because... because I have rules that I must follow.” Yeah, that was it. “I won’t kill him. It violates my rules.”
Harris stomped toward Discord, no fear of Discord’s power evident. “So, you can’t kill him, but you can make us fight for our lives, kill dozens of other people, kill NARENDRA, and be tortured, but you can’t kill him yourself.” Harris threw his arms up. “Well, praise be to the great King of Morality! All hail his moral code of justice!” His voice was soaked with sarcasm. Discord scowled.
“Now hold on-”
“No, you hold on!” Harris shouted. Discord held his tongue. “You claim to be so useful. But really, you don’t do shit.” Harris walked to the door. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go find my friend. He’s actually been doing shit.”
Discord watched Harris go through the door. He couldn’t tell what he was feeling. It was like a mix of anger, sadness, self pity, and confusion. All together, they forced Discord to just sit on the ground. “What have I been doing?” he wondered. “I started off by treating these boys like they were just tools in any shed. I thought that they would be just that, but it turned out that they weren’t.” He looked to the door. It looked blurry for some reason. “And I never stopped treating them like that, even though they’re-” He stopped for moment, choking on his breath. “they’re my friends.”
Discord felt something fall down his face. Using his finger, he lifted it off and took a look at it. It was a droplet of water, glistening in the artificial light like morning dew. He flicked it away and got back up. “I know what I need to do.” He shot back up into the air. “I need to go to them and play by their rules, now. No more of my rules.” He went into the building in search of his friends.
Harris walked angrily into the building. His confrontation with Discord just now had set his mind off in a direction that he wasn’t too sure about. Nonetheless, he didn’t want to go back to him right now. He needed to cool off.
“Where’s Ryan?”
He walked up the staircase and through the hall. On the ground, he could see a trail of blood. “Ryan?” Harris said apprehensively. He didn’t know where Ryan had gone, nor what he was doing to that guy he had taken with him. It set him on edge. He could be doing anything to that guy.
Harris thought about everything that had happened leading up to this point. Ryan had been forced to shoot Catherine and Joey, and killed who knows how many people. Then there was the little girl he was holding in that burned out house. Put together, those events all had the ability to mess someone up pretty bad. He remembered how Ryan had been acting recently, too. He shuddered. “I need to find him.” Harris said to himself urgently. He started to run, following the blood trail on the ground. It brought him through a number of rooms and hallways. Apparently, Ryan had been dragging that guy through most of the building.
Harris thought about everything while he ran after the trail. Ryan had been talking to something while Harris he didn’t think Harris was looking before, but recently, he didn’t seem to care if Harris was there or not. He didn’t flinch at the idea, or the act itself, of killing people. His demeanor was becoming more uncaring, and less and less intense when it came to achieving his goal. He had been actually thinking about things, but his thoughts were clearly inconclusive. Harris saw the blood trail go under a door and stopped.
“Should I go in there?” he thought. He heard speech from the other side of the door, then shouts. Ryan was probably torturing the guy for whatever information he wanted. Someone screamed from the other side of the door. Harris swallowed hard and approached the door. “He’s lost it...”
Ryan threw his prisoner into a chair, knocking both the chair and the man onto the ground. The man was yelling something, gripping his bloody leg like a vice. He rolled off the chair. Ryan set it back up. “Sit.” he ordered as he grabbed the man once again and dropped him onto the chair. The man looked up at him, seething with anger. Ryan pulled his M1911 and pointed it onto the man’s forehead. “You wanna try me?” he said coldly. The man looked down. “That’s what I thought.”
He paced around the room, looking at what he had at his disposal. He was in the kitchen again. Around him were dozens of knives, pots, pans, and other fun items. Looking around, he noticed that the two bodies from earlier. His knife was still sticking out from the head of the one. He walked over to the body and leaned next to it; the blood was still slick and wet around the wound. Gripping the knife in his right hand, Ryan tugged on it a little. It didn’t move. He moved the body in front of his prisoner and set it face down.
“I’m guessing you knew this guy?” he asked, looking at his prisoner’s face. His face was one of loss and terror. “Don’t worry. I’m sure the two of you will have lots to talk about.” Ryan put his foot on the dead man’s neck and yanked his knife out. “In the meantime, we have lots to talk about ourselves.”
His prisoner looked sick, like he was about to vomit at the sight of a knife coming out of his friend’s neck. The schluck sound it made as the knife came out probably didn’t help. “Now,” Ryan said, approaching his prisoner, knife raised and parallel to the ground. He pressed it against his prisoner’s neck. “What can you tell me about Narendra’s home in Vietnam?” The prisoner’s jaw quivered; he was petrified. Ryan pressed the knife harder. “I won’t ask again.” The prisoner started to speak, but in a language far off from English. Ryan pulled the knife away.
“Discord, translate.” He waited a moment. No response. “Bah.” Discord must have been doing something else. He would have to go without his help for now. The prisoner was still babbling in his language, a pleading tone dripping from his voice. He clearly wasn’t even saying anything that would be helpful if Ryan did understand.
“You know, he probably speaks English. He just won’t.” a woman’s voice said from behind. Ryan nodded, frustrated about the situation.
“Yeah, I had a feeling about that.” The Woman came from behind Ryan and walked behind the prisoner. The prisoner looked confused, but kept talking, albeit slower.
“He’s probably way in Narendra’s pocket. I would bet that he was lots of information, if you just press him a little...” Ryan contemplated his options. There were blunt objects, no good. Knives, pretty good. He got up and looked around the room. In the cabinets there was plenty of food. He took a note of that. It was all distinctly American, too; Goldfish crackers, Kraft Mac n’ Cheese, assorted cereals. It was an interesting array.
After searching all the cabinets, Ryan looked around in all the small closets. In the first, he found a steel brush and a broom. He pulled the brush. In the next one, he found assorted cleaning chemicals. That would probably serve as adequate for his purposes.
“Alright.” he said, walking towards his prisoner with arms full of cleaning supplies. He dropped them onto the table. “Now, you can tell me what I want to know,” He picked up the steel brush. “or I can force the information.” The prisoner in the chair stared at Ryan, fearful determination in his eyes. “...So it’s the hard way, then.” Ryan stated. He looked over his supplies. “Let’s see, where to start...” He looked at a bottle of glass cleaner. “I think this should work.” Ryan walked back over to his prisoner and held the bottle up. “Say cheese.” He sprayed it into the man’s eyes, eliciting a loud scream of pain from him. The man let his head fall down in an effort to protect it. “How about now?”
A soft chuckle came from off to the side. Looking over, Ryan saw that The Woman was laughing and leaning on the table. “Just what is so funny, may I ask?” The Woman waved her hand through the air.
“Your attempt. You honestly think that THAT will get you anything?” Ryan scowled.
“I’m lowballing it.” The Woman shook her head, still chuckling.
“You need to make him fear you, Ryan, like I did back on the boat.” Ryan’s breathing sped up a little.
“I had to make a choice.” The Woman sighed knowingly.
“And you did. Doesn’t mean I have to like it.” Ryan, perturbed by The Woman, turned back to his prisoner, who was clutching his eye. “You need to REALLY get on him.” Ryan tossed away the glass cleaner.
“Fine, then.” Going back to the pile of supplied, he looked around it for a specific item. Eventually, he found it.
“Ooooh, nice choice.” The Woman commented pridefully.
“Thanks.” Ryan turned back around and went back to his prisoner. “Still not talking?” The prisoner peeked up at him, fury and terror permeating his countenance. “Well, alright then.”
Ryan took the bottle he was holding and set it down. He looked at his prisoner’s leg; the blood was coming from a spot on his outer right thigh. Without a word, Ryan pulled up the steel brush and scraped it as much as he could against the bullet wound. The prisoner screamed ear-splittingly. After a few seconds, Ryan looked at his work. Satisfied that his leg was exposed enough, he pulled up the bottle.
“I’m all too familiar with this stuff, you know. So a fair warning; it’s gonna hurt.” He pulled the cap off the bottle and began to pour it onto the man’s wounded leg. The man screamed loudly, any normal person would say it was blood curdling. Ryan didn’t care that much. “Drain cleaner hurts pretty bad, don’t it?” The screaming didn’t stop. As Ryan watched, The Woman came over and put her hand on his shoulder.
“Nothing seems to be working, Ryan.” Ryan brushed her hand off.
“I’m well aware of that.” He picked up the brush and slashed it across the man;s face, ending the screaming. The man still breathed heavily. “Maybe I’ll just end it now.” The Woman shrugged.
“It’s your call. But, then, we BOTH know where your calls have landed you so far...” Ryan ignored the comment and went for his pistol.
Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Before Ryan could respond, Harris came waltzing in. He stopped at the sight before him. “Ryan... what the hell?” Ryan looked at Harris, ten the prisoner, then Harris.
“Information gathering.” Harris swallowed hard.
“Who were you talking to?” Ryan pointed at the man. “Who else?” Ryan looked at Harris confused.
“Who else?” Ryan asked incredulously, like he thought that Harris could see The Woman.
“Ryan, that guy doesn’t speak English.” Ryan looked back at his prisoner.
“He does, Harris. He just refuses to.” Harris put his hands up and approached slowly.
“Ryan, this is all really unnecessary.” Ryan looked back at him, an aggressive bearing knocking Harris back.
“It’s all necessary.”
Ryan turned back to the man. “I was done anyway.” Ryan put his pistol back. No use wasting ammo, right? He went over to a knife rack and pulled a large knife. He would use his Ka-Bar, but he didn’t want it to get stuck again.
Harris watched him like a hawk as he moved about. “What’re you doing?” he asked, alarm defining his eyes. Ryan didn’t answer. “Ryan!” Without answering, Ryan went up to his prisoner and stabbed the knife up into his head through the bottom of his jaw. He put his full body weight into it, and the knife struck the top of the inside of the man’s skull. Harris’ jaw was practically on the ground. “What the fuck!?!?” he yelled. Ryan let the body drop to the ground.
“He was going to die anyway, Harris.” Harris took several steps back.
“Wha- wha-” He didn’t know what to say. He fell against the wall behind him and leaned on it, barely standing. “Ryan, we need to go home.”
Ryan spun around at him. “What?” he asked, shocked to hear that.
“Ryan, we can’t keep this up. I can’t... you have to go home, Ryan.” Ryan looked at Harris disbelievingly. The Woman came back from the sidelines.
“He wants you to go home?” She laughed. “After everything you’ve done to get this far?” Ryan pointed at her.
“Shut up.” Harris beheld Ryan’s action with fear paramounting in his eyes. The Woman kept it up.
“He wants to ruin everything, Ryan. He never wanted to see you succeed.” Ryan glanced at Harris, who was cowering against the wall, wide-eyed. “He wanted to see you die, so that he could get Discord to take him home.” Ryan shut his eyes.
“Enough!” Harris walked over to him.
“Ryan-” He was pushed away as Ryan moved apart from him.
“He wouldn’t do that...” Ryan whispered. Harris stayed back.
“Ryan-” Ryan wasn’t paying attention to him.
“Of course he would! He thinks that YOU’RE the reason that I’m dead!” Ryan looked over at Harris, then back to The Woman.
“I-I-I-” Harris ran to him and grabbed him by the shoulders.
“Ryan, listen!” He still wasn’t listening. The Woman was the center of Ryan’s focus at the moment.
“He’s trying to ruin you, Ryan!” Ryan shook his head.
“NO!! NO, I WON’T ALLOW IT!” He put his hands on his ears. He still heard the woman.
“He’s trying to-”
“STOP!”
Harris shook him “RYAN! LISTEN TO M-” Harris felt a knee hit him in the stomach and he fell to the ground. Ryan moved away. Harris groaned on the ground. He had landed in a pool of blood.
“He... he would never...” Tears welled up in Ryan’s eyes. The Woman hugged Ryan wholly.
“He would, Ryan. I’m the only friend you have.” The tears flowed freely from Ryan’s eyes as he stood.
“What can I do?” he asked The Woman. She released and looked into Ryan’s eyes. “I can’t do this alone...” She smiled genuinely and looked deep into Ryan’s eyes.
“You have me.” Ryan looked back at Harris.
“He’s been trying to stop me.” The Woman nodded. Ryan turned away from her and addressed Harris. “Harris, I have to do this. This is all that there is.” Harris stood back up, soaked in foreign blood.
“No you don’t.” Ryan bared his teeth.
“Yes, I do! You can’t understand Harris! You don’t know what it’s like!” It was Harris’ turn to yell.
“What what’s like, huh? Watching people die and knowing you can’t do anything? I know that! Or how about watching my best friend die! What about that?” Ryan turned around, not wanting to face Harris. “How about being responsible for so many deaths, eh, you stupid bastard!?” Harris, wobbly in the legs, tired to approach Ryan. “Ryan, there is no pity, for either of us! We both need to just walk away!” Ryan started shaking, he was so infuriated.
“No, I won’t walk away from this!” Harris clamped his hand on Ryan’s shoulder.
“LET IT GO!”
Ryan pistol whipped Harris across his face, sending him flying back down to the ground. He ripped back the hammer, pointing the large firearm at the back of Harris’ head.
And he pulled the trigger.
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Luna awoke suddenly. She didn’t know why, but something told her that a terrible crime had been committed. Somehow worse than the taking of a life, yet not as bad at the same time, if that made sense. She looked around her room. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Everything was in its place. Starstep slept cozily by the fire, his chest rising and falling like the waves from a pebble being tossed into a pond.
She got up and looked walked about her room. Whatever had woken her, it wasn’t about to let her sleep again. She paced frustratedly around her room. “What is this feeling?” She went to her window and looked outside. “Something very bad has happened.” She looked out her window for a moment more, then turned back, an angry grunt escaping her. She plopped herself by the fireplace and watched Starstep sleep. It was creepy, sure, but she didn’t care. Her mind calmed itself as she watched her personal guard sleeping soundly in front of her. She put her hoof on his face. “I do hope that we can remake the Nighthawks.” she said to herself. “I’m sure you would be happy to see your friend home again.” She stood up. “I’ll go for a walk through the garden. Clear my mind.” She exited her room silently and made her way to the gardens, careful not to disturb anyone.
In the garden, she released a pent up sigh that she didn’t know she was holding. What was it that had awoken her? Why had it done so? And why did it give her this feeling? These questions and more were swirling through her head as she made her way through the garden. At one point, she stopped. Before her was the statue of the Nighthawks in all its glory. The plate on the bottom was inscripted with the names, or aliases, at least, of the stallions who died in the battle. She looked up at the statue. As she admired it, a glint caught her eye. It was located on the chest of the statue of the Nighthawk “I wonder what that is?” she wondered aloud.
“That’s the Crest of Valor.” Luna jumped at the sudden intrusion. Whipping her head back, she saw her sister approaching from behind.
“Sister, it is only you.” Celestia chuckled to herself.
“Who were you expecting?” Luna looked back up.
“No one.” Celestia walked over and stood by her sister. “Why is the Crest on the statue?” Luna asked. Celestia sighed sadly.
“Starstep was awarded it, but he refused to accept it. The ceremony was very hushed, didn’t want his name getting out, but he still wouldn’t accept it. One morning, as I came here, he was leaving in a very solemn mood. When I came here, the Crest was on the statue.” Luna thought about her guard.
“So, this is where you put it.”
Celestia continued. “I asked him about it later. He said, ‘Those stallions gave everything they had to get those ponies to safety. They deserve the award, not me.’ I felt great pain and empathy for him, so I let the Crest stay there.” Luna looked up at the Crest, her heart heavy with sympathy. “Then, you returned to us and I decided that he should be with you.”
Luna nodded, understanding the story. “That’s... so sad.” she said.
Celestia looked up at the statue, her eyes looking glassy. “Not as sad as what I must tell you, though.” Luna looked over at her sister, trepidation almost keeping her from asking.
“What?” Celestia walked to the statue and put a hoof on it.
“None of the candidates for the Nighthawks were able to pass the training. Not one.” It hit Luna like a hoof to the side.
“What?” was all she could manage. Celestia let a single teardrop fall. The tear shone bright in the moonlight.
“I am afraid that our stallion in the south will remain there, at least for a long while more.” Luna looked at the ground.
“I had a feeling that something bad happened.” Celestia turned to her sister.
“Did you awaken because of a feeling that something happened?” she asked, urgency in her voice.
“Yes.”
Celestia put her hoof to her chin. “Well, that’s odd. It was the same for me, though what I just told you happened several days ago.” Luna ignored the previous lack of news and pondered. Both of them had awoken because of a feeling.
She paused her thoughts. Could it have something to do with Ryan? “I’m sure it’s nothing, really.” she said dismissively. Celestia eyes her sister suspiciously, but let it go.
“Yes, you’re probably right.” She turned and began to walk back to her own quarters. “Good night, sister.”
Luna went the other way. “Good night.” The two regal sisters each went back to their respective chambers.
Luna quietly crawled back onto her bed. She felt like there was a heavy weight resting upon her side when she got under her covers. Starstep was laying peacefully by the fire. “I’m so sorry...” She went back to sleep, dysphoria making her want to just hug Starstep and never let go.
******************************************************************************
Ryan looked at his hand and trembled. The trembling grew to shaking, and the shaking grew so severe that he dropped the gun.
Click.
That was all he had heard. Click. He fell to the ground. He had pointed a gun at his friend’s head and pulled the trigger, and the only thing that saved his best friend’s life from him was the lack of a bullet in the chamber of the gun. Ryan held up his hands and looked at them. Who had he become? What had he become? He shook violently, looking back to Harris. Harris was clutching his jaw, muttering curses under his breath. He hadn’t heard the click.
Ryan sat on the ground, lost. He curled up into a ball. “What’s going on?” he asked himself. “What am I doing?” Harris sat back up and saw Ryan curled up. He had been intensely pissed off about being struck, but that changed when he looked at Ryan. He felt pity and empathy for Ryan now. He was curled up like a lost puppy, hungry and alone in a cruel, cruel world.
“Ryan...” he started. Ryan crawled away and tried to stand. After a moment, he managed to.
“You have to leave, Harris.” Harris stood up and looked at the shaking form of his old friend. He started to argue, but Ryan cut him off. “Go. Before you... before you die too.” Harris looked at his friend, sorrow filling dominating eyes. Ryan was right. He had to leave, but Ryan couldn’t. It’s just how it was. Harris turned around.
“You know I’ll always be your friend.” Ryan didn’t respond, and Harris left the room, never turning back to take one last look at what was once his old friend.
Discord had been floating through the halls for a while now, searching for the boys. He had to apologize, and offer to help them however he could. It took his quite some time to find the blood trail on the floor. When he did, he followed it. It brought him to a kitchen. Ryan was sitting in the center, surrounded by blood and bodies.
“Ryan, what happened?” Ryan didn’t answer. He sat in front of Ryan, putting on a soft voice. “Ryan.” Ryan looked up.
“What?” he asked, choking back sobs as he tried to speak. Discord knew that something had just happened. He didn’t ask, though.
“Ryan, I’m... sorry. I should have just ended this from the start. It’s all my fault.” He hung his head shamefully. “I’ve been playing your game by my rules. But we’ll play by yours now.” Ryan looked at Discord distrustingly. upon laying his eyes on Discord’s face, though, he realized that he was telling the truth.
Ryan looked Discord in the eyes. “I have to do this, Discord. I won’t have you do it.” He pointed down the hall. “Harris is leaving.” Discord turned to look, and down the hall, he was barely able to make out the form of Harris. “Help him, Discord. Help him get to where he wants to be.” Discord looked at Ryan sadly.
“I guess that this is it, then.”
Ryan nodded. “This is how it’s gonna have to be.” Discord teared up. He had never lost friends before; he had never really had them. He put his hand forth.
“Good luck, Ryan.” Ryan took his hand and shook it.
“Take care of him, Discord.” They released their hands, and Discord flew off out of the room after Harris.