The mare hit the deck mere milliseconds before the top of the briefcase met with the bottom section. As the two halves met, a spark ignited. Without any warning, the container shot wide open and a blinding white light rocked the area, to any of the unprepared who did not see the flash, they were brought to the ground by the equally paralyzing *bang* that followed. The poor fool who had closed the case was sent away with golden coins cutting into his head.
The vest wearing mare rose to a reared position while dust and aether still hung in the air, but unlike before, a large purple serrated blade was held in her teeth.
She sent a quick elbow into the neck of the stunned guard on the left, stunning him. Using her other two hooves, she manhandled her dazed and confused opponent to the right and forced him down onto the table.
She jerked her head three times, and three times, the sharp blade dug deeper and deeper into his chest. Fatal damage.
When she was done, the guard on the left had enough time to finally bring his hooves to his throat and begin to choke on his own saliva.
She spat her knife out of her mouth and reached into her suit pocket. Counter to gravity, the knife floated beside her on its own accord… but it wasn’t like anypony was able to notice it.
Using her hooves, she pulled out an inconspicuous plastic bag, it had a zip tie already set by one notch around the opening waiting to tie it closed.
She slipped it over the kneeling-in-pain zebra’s head, bit the tie, and pulled it as tight as she could. One swift roundhouse kick to the head later and it was on to the next threat.
By this time, one of the two guards occupying the far center area of the room had enough of a disoriented thought to grab for the revolving styled crossbow rifle that hung from his neck and fired at the blur coming his way. He did not shoulder the weapon. Instead, he simply fired from the hip like he had seen in movies. His aim was clumsy and too soon, the attacking mare did not even need to dodge, she kept running and disabled his weapon hoof, restraining it from interacting with the weapon’s action again and slid it behind his back.
The floating ghost like blade found its way against his throat, and a kick to his back legs sent him to his bottom. Restraining his hoof, knife to his throat, and balance completely lost, he was in no way able to fight her as she sat him up in a sitting/reared position, using his body to cover hers.
From across the room, his mirror guard had been wearing a pair of stolen sunglasses. One of the lenses was gone, but the mere fact that one of his eyes was covered let him recover a fraction faster than everypony else. He wasn’t going to let this mare live. Money or not, she was dead.
He reared, brought his crossbow to his shoulder, aimed, and shouted, “Die Bitch!”
He pulled his hoof, and as planned, the mare let her reluctant partner take the bolt to the chest. The shield screamed in pain, shouting so many obscenities that it could not be determined when one began and another ended. The shooter kept repeating his own curses as he pulled the slide and set the string back in place and revolved the action to another loaded chamber.
The action, while thoughtful, was in vain. The mare extended her right wing as far as she could before flapping it straight out. Three diamond shaped blades danced across the air and found their way into the crossbow wielding zebra’s gut, chest, and throat.
An earthshattering scream emanated from the pony who had gain an arrow in his chest from friendly fire. The mare shifted her attention down and decided to end her victim’s suffering.
The knife was relieved from his throat and went into the air by its own accord. Blade first, it swiped through his neck, and as intended, stopped the screams.
She let go of her shield. His head fell forward, and shortly after, the body followed.
She scanned left to right, there were no immediate threats to address, only four zebras on the floor for varying reasons.
She walked across the room, bypassing the table, and stopped at the thug who shot his friend in an attempt to kill her. She stood over him, struggling. His eyes were gigantic and full of fear. Blood was pooling from his mouth, his hooves were trying to cover the wound that the bladed metal currently occupied.
Her purple knife floated to her side. It was time to end his suffering. She placed the large purple blade point first over his eye in which his sunglasses had a missing lense.
In
Out
It was over.
Now that he was dead, she shifted her attention a little lower, specifically at the old revolver styled crossbow that was now lying on the ground.
It wasn’t like he was going to use it anymore…
The floating knife found its bloody way into its hidden sheathe and resumed it resting nature, waiting for its master to call on it again.
Now, the crossbow began a life of its own and floated up to the mare, The camber was loaded, and there were three more arrows in reserve.
Zulu had no idea what was going on. It was just a flash of light that was burned into his vision. One second Zapros was closing the bitch’s briefcase, and the next thing he saw was an engraving of Zabros being blown away by a blinding white light.
He didn’t know why, but he was on his back, spralled out flat on the floor.
He couldn’t hear anything. The light that hung in the center of the room was swaying back and forth. He turned his head. To his horror, Zabros had his mouth wide open screaming complete silence as blood fell from the coins that now were a part of his head.
He looked around, and he didn’t like what he saw. He needed to get help, he had his extra muscleheaded dumbasses in the back, their job was to help them if they had any trouble.
Where the fuck were they!
Zulu flipped over and put one hoof in front of the other, crawling with his front hooves across the floor to the door that he had come from.
He just kept focusing on putting one hoof in front of the other, reaching for as much of the damp and rusted floor as he could with each hoof to get to the door to the cargo hold.
He kept crawling, making progress to his salvation. But his hearing returned to him as he tried to escape. He did not like what he heard.
Thrashing
Slicing
Shooting
Screaming
Dying
None of which sounded like it was coming from the bitch.
He made it to the door, but it was closed. He punched his hoof out with as much force as he could, trying to attract the attention of the zebras on the other side.
“Open up, you dumbasses!” he screamed, “Open up!”
He turned his head around, and shrieked.
Almost everypony was dead. The only survivors were Zapros, but he was too concerned about his own survival to notice the crazy bitch with a crossbow floating beside her that was approaching him.
He turned and banged against the door as hard as he could. “Open, Motherfucker!”
*Thunk*
He turned back around; the bitch was stepping around Zapros, re-racking the crossbow. The muscular zebra was no longer struggling. An arrow, as well as a couple hundred Equestrian Bits, were sticking out of his head.
He threw both hooves out, and finally, the door opened… but not to what he wanted.
His extra muscle was indeed in the room… but each one of them was on the ground, clutching their stomachs, blood and vomit staining around their mouths and everywhere else that they had vomited… almost like they had been poisoned…
Still steaming from before were the nachos that they were eating earlier…
Zulu turned onto his back again and propped himself up. As he feared, the bitch was standing right before him, still slowly walking towards him.
He looked through her legs, and he saw the only zebra that was still among the living through them.
From the other side of the table, he could see the last of his gang members. A foggy bag was covering his head like a mask. The bag was hardly moving anymore, he had given up on trying to free himself, it was over.
He looked back up and at the mare before him. The crossbow found its way to her hooves. He looked at her features, blood stained her vest and shirt, wear and tear had ripped the left sleeve of her shir-
For no reason, a green glow encased the rearing mare with a crossbow, making her a little bit taller, the coat color to navy blue, a horn now atop the head, and increasing of the amount of muscles by a little bit, filling out the vest and shirt more, and most importantly changing the gender from female to male.
The butt of the crossbow met flushly with the stallion’s shoulder, he closed an eye and firmed it’s grip around the action.
Zulu blinked his staring eyes and closed his open mouth, “What the fuck are you!?”
There was no speech, no answer, no long winded showing of ego, or gloating about playing preceptions and expectations against a force with more numbers, nothing from the navy blue winged unicorn.
Only firming of aim, a tightening of a grip, a pressing of a hoof, and a releasing of an arrow.
Target neutralized.
Rest In P34C3