//------------------------------// // Creeping Death // Story: The Sharpest Tool // by Samey90 //------------------------------// Sharp Shock was nervous. Since he was a foal, he was scared of heights and magic, so, according to Surveillance, he was the best pony to assist Royal Guards from Cloudsdale during their visit in Cloudchaser’s house. He was standing, shivering, in front of Twilight Sparkle, who was aiming her horn at him. “Don’t worry, it’s painless…” she muttered, “Just don’t move, and everything will be all right.” When her horn began to channel the energy, Sharp Shock suddenly screamed, and dodged the approaching beam, which ricocheted, and flew through the window. “Aaargh, horseapples!” somepony’s yelling could be heard from the outside, followed by a loud “thud!”. “Are you ok?” Twilight looked through the window with a worried expression on her face, “Oh, hi Derpy.” “Yeah, I think so. What was that?” a grey pegasus with a yellow mane, lying on the ground, asked. “I’m so sorry, it was a cloud-walking spell! Are you sure you’re ok? I’m afraid it could interfere with your own spell, since you’re a pegasus.” “Well, it exploded, but don’t worry, I’m kinda used to that…” Derpy smiled, and took off in the air. “Hey, couldn’t we just ask some pegasus to…” Sharp Shock’s question was suddenly interrupted, when another Twilight’s spell hit him by surprise. “Sorry,” unicorn said, “That was the only way to cast it without you running away.” “Oh… thanks. So, when will we fly there?” “You won’t be flying there,” said Hot Pursuit, “It’d take too long, so Twilight will teleport you directly to Cloudsdale.” “Oh no…” *** “Are we there yet?” Sharp Shock asked. Two pegasi guards who accompanied him could easily be Surveillance’s relatives. The fact that after he arrived to their station, he had a sudden attack of motion sickness didn’t help him in making a good first impression. “Almost,” said the taller, black one, whose name was Steve. The other one, orange, with a chestnut-coloured mane, was also called Steve, what Sharp Shock found conspicuous. Even though he was scared of heights, he started to really like Cloudsdale. The street they were walking was peaceful, most of its inhabitants were at work now. The houses made of clouds were reflecting the sunbeams, creating an unique impression. The house they were heading to was last in the row of similar buildings. “Strange, the door is open,” said the orange Steve. They sneaked inside the house and started to search the first floor. “Clear!” the black Steve shouted from the kitchen. “Clear!” orange Steve replied from the bathroom. “Clear… but someone was here,” said Sharp Shock, looking at the chest of drawers in the living-room. Most of the drawers were open, its contents scattered on the floor. “Let’s go upstairs,” black Steve proposed. Both pegasi flew up, leaving climbing to Sharp Shock. The door to one of the bedrooms was open. “Hmm, it looks as if someone had a nice little pharming party last night,” said orange Steve, looking at the pegasus lying on the floor, surrounded by medicine packages. He took some of them to look closer, “There’s everything here, antidepressants, sleeping pills…” Sharp Shock ran to the unconscious pegasus quickly, and checked her pulse. “She’s alive,” he said. “And these packages are full, Stevie,” black Steve added, “She’s not drugged.” “Not to mention the black eye… Something happened here…” *** “So, what are the news, Shock?” Surveillance asked, just after Sharp Shock rolled out of the chariot. “Toolsmith was there before us. She attacked her sister and stole some money from their house.” “Is… is Cloudchaser alive?” Twilight asked. “Yes. She’s in a hospital, she has a concussion. Steves are now searching the whole town, but most likely she has already left it.” “Great… and we don’t know where’s she heading…” said Surveillance. “Well, Cloudchaser doesn’t exactly remember what her sister said, but she mentioned Cloud Counter. You know, boss, this freak with glasses, who…” “Yeah, I remember. Not that it makes it better, this guy travels all around the Equestria…” “Excuse me officer,” the owner of the flying chariot suddenly interrupted, “Did ya say ‘Toolsmith’?” “Not your business, sir,” Surveillance replied grumpily. “Well, maybe not,” the pegasus said, “but just yesterday, or rather today at night I was talking about Toolsmith with my passenger…” “Oh, come on!” Surveillance yelled impatiently. “A poor filly, she was covered in scars and burn marks…” “Really I have no time… WHAT?!” “When exactly did you meet her?” Twilight asked. “My last course at night, so about 1 AM. Why is it so important now?” Twilight’s answer was barely audible, due to Surveillance trying to contact every single guard at the same time with his radio. However, it was audible enough for Rainy Cloud to react with a word he wouldn’t want his niece to use. *** She stood at the edge of Cloudsdale and looked down. You can do this. You already did it once tonight, and you can do this once more. She positioned her wings, gritting her teeth when a jolt of pain from the right one hit her. The muscles were stiff, some of them hurt, while others were completely numb and lifeless. Every move was torture. At least the window was a bit lower… she thought, closed her eyes and jumped off the cloud. A wave of cold air hit her, causing another jolt of pain. She almost did an involuntary barrel-roll, but she somehow managed to compensate for the fact that her right wing was missing about half of its feathers. The left one practically begged for preening, but she had no time. The saddlebags with a blanket, money, food and photo of her and Cloudchaser were slowing her down, but she’d rather walk by hoof than get rid of them. She managed to glide for a few hours, losing altitude rather quickly, before her wing finally snapped, and she fell on the ground, cursing under her breath. She stood up and looked around. Her landing place appeared to be a narrow path in the middle of the forest, north from Cloudsdale. I wonder if they’ve already started to chase after me, she thought. She didn’t think about taking any clothes from Cloudchaser’s house, so she took a blanket from her saddlebags and wrapped it around her body, covering the wings and most of the wounds – her head, apart of a scar and butch cut mane looked rather normal. She walked a few miles down the path undisturbed, thinking about her sister. She didn’t mean to hurt her, but their talk didn’t come out as she expected. My sister is a wreck, and it’s all Cloud Counter’s fault! she thought, His, and Twilight Sparkle’s. Suddenly, she saw a large clearing with a wooden building standing near the road. A sign above the door read “The Prancing Changeling Inn”. Looks like one of those inns from horror movies, built on an old buffalo graveyard, hosted by vampires or cannibals, and visited mostly by lumberjacks… She wasn’t eager to come in - since she had woken up from a coma, she had almost no need to sleep. She wasn’t exactly sure why, the doctors never told her about it, preferring to give her sleeping pills, but it came in handy during her escape. However, sudden grumbling in her stomach reminded her that her last meal was the supper in the hospital. Oh, come on! There are surely no psychopathic killers in there, she said to herself and opened the door, Not to mention ponies, who are looking for those. The interior was almost empty, spare from a blue unicorn with a white mane, sitting by the counter and staring into the glass of whisky, as if she wanted to read the sense of life out of it. Even barmare, a young, pink earth pony with a green mane, was paying more attention to her hooficure than to the guests. “Um… hello…” Flitter said. No one replied. She went to the counter, and sat near the blue unicorn. “It’s almost dawn, girl, drinking this early?” she asked. “Frankly, my dear, Trixie doesn’t give a damn,” the unicorn replied, still looking at the bottom of the glass. “Rough times?” Trixie turned to her, eyeing her scar, unusual hairstyle and the blanket she was still covered in. “Trixie’s not gonna enroll to any sect!” she exclaimed. “What?” “You’re from a sect, aren’t you?” “What? No, I just covered myself in this blanket because the morning is cold. And I look like that because I had an accident.” “Oh… the great and apologetic Trixie… apologizes,” a weird note appeared in unicorn’s voice, as if she scratched an old wound. She raised from her chair and sloppily walked to the guest rooms. “Who was that?” Flitter asked the barmare. “Some ex stage-artist,” she said in a bored tone, “Came here three days ago, and has been drinking ever since.” “Is there a chance for a breakfast?” “The breakfast will be at six o’clock. It’s not six o’clock yet.” “There’s always such a crowd here?” “Oh, no. During the day there are more ponies, usually complete freaks – only those choose this road,” Works for me. Golden Heart always calls me a freak. Or maybe called? she smiled at the reminiscence of a pen in her hoof, and the short flight to freedom. The barmare continued: “Vendors, mercenaries, artists… you at least seem normal in comparison to them. Recently, even a weather team mathematician came here.” Flitter’s ears raised in attention. “Navy-blue, chestnut-coloured mane, wears glasses, abacus as a cutie mark, sometimes speaks with a silly accent for no reason?” she asked. “Yeah, this one. Stayed here for one night, got madly drunk, and tried to pick up Trixie. You know him?” “Yup, he’s my cousin. Did he say where he was going?” “He mentioned Detrot.” “I always wanted to meet him again,” Flitter said, trying to hide the excitation in her voice, “How far from here is Detrot?” “At least three days by hoof, but ponies from nearby village often travel there with hay or fruit. They sometimes take passengers.” Few hours later, almost exactly at the time when Sharp Shock and two pegasi both named Steve entered her sister’s house, Flitter paid some bits to a farmer pony and sat on a cart full of hay, pulled by four ponies. Before one of the Surveillance’s Royal Guards teams found an old inn on almost forgotten route and managed to interrogate the Great and Not-Quite-Sober Trixie, who remembered the oddly dressed pony with short hair, she was on Detrot outskirts, talking with a pegasus from local weather team about charity action involving collecting money for burn victims, and asking him few innocent questions about their latest operations and ponies involved in them. A few days later, when all of Equestria was already talking about the escape of one of the most dangerous serial killers in its history, one of the most dangerous serial killers in Equestria’s history was sitting on the pavement, covered in blanket, pretending that she was a disabled war veteran. She knew which hotel Cloud Counter resided in, but she needed to get a weapon. An easy task, but only for those who had money. She didn’t want to approach her victim with only a knife one of the farmers gave her and which she was now hiding under the blanket. Suddenly she hissed, biting her lips when some gawky pony bumped into her injured wing. “Hey! Watch out!” she yelled. “Oh, sorry dude,” said the familiar, pale white mare with an electric blue mane, reading the text on a cardboard.