Chapter 2: The conclusion
The next morning rolled around slowly. Omior couldn’t fall back to sleep as his mind reeled with the questions he had. Eventually though, he did manage to fall asleep, though how much he slept nor how easily he slept he’d never deduce.
The next morning was a routine of usual. Omior made his breakfast and was out of the house by nine in the morning. About two hours before Vigil would awaken.
He stepped out into the brisk air and headed down his right towards the bustling early morning shopping district. He passed by a handful of ponies on his way, all drowsy heading one way or another. He couldn’t help picturing the events last night and before it as he walked along.
Omior failed to realize it but he was already in the shopping district. He noticed just where he was eventually and scolded himself inwardly for getting so distracted lately. It was proof enough to him to train to better his focus, but for now he didn’t have to worry. For now he had to go into his place of work. Ms. Rose’s flower shop.
He was surprised to find the shops lights were out and the sign at the door said it was still closed. He scratched the back of his head and raised an eyebrow. ‘Maybe Rose can tell me what’s going on.’ Omior thought to himself as he turned and began a path to her house. ‘This is odd though, she usually never opens late and I’m sure I know what days I work by heart now.’
Five minutes and Omior reached Rose’s house. Her garden was in a neat organization of color and size lining the front of her house. The lawn a bit more chaotic and less pampered. Omior took but a moment to admire it before walking up to the cream colored house. He lightly knocked and the door swung open in response.
He took a step back instinctively before pushing the door open the rest of the way. He peered inside and called out. “Ms Rose? Are you in here? Hello?”
He got no reply and took a tentative step inside. “Hello? Anabelle? Are you in here?”
Omior stepped further in and looked around, nothing seemed out of place. Everything was exactly as he’d expected, minus a few pictures that lined the walls. Some nice art she does in her free time. He was just about to turn the corner into the living room when he heard the sound of a door opening. He went against the wall and looked towards the living room where the noise originated from.
Hoofbeats on the soft carpet in the living room announced that somepony or something was walking towards him and he grabbed Rose’s vase, holding a lovely daffodil. He raised the vase high and just before he brought it down, Anabelle appeared from around the corner.
She fell back with a loud “wah!” as Omior nearly dropped the vase in surprise. He carefully and quickly placed the vase back where he found it and smiled towards his boss. “Thank goodness you’re okay. I saw the door open and when you didn’t respond I thought something might’ve happened.”
Omior helped Anabelle up and she sighed before chuckling to herself lightly. “No it’s okay, I must’ve not shut it correctly coming in last night. I am also terribly sorry about that, I was down in my basement moving some boxes, I just finished up,” Rose walked past Omior and shut the door, it came back at her and she caught it with a hoof as she sighed. “So that’s it, stupid thing,” She pressed her hoof against a niche in the door before forcing the door shut. Once she heard the satisfying click she turned back to Omior. “Tea, sweety?”
Omior nodded, shifting a little uncomfortably. He followed as Anabelle lead them to her kitchen. She started a fire on the stove and poured some water in her teapot before placing it over the stovetop. “So was there a reason why you’re here dear?”
He sat down at the table and nodded as she joined him. “Yes actually. I was wondering why the shop wasn’t open today, I never got anything telling me otherwise.”
Rose’s eyebrows rose for a short time before she responded incredulously. “Didn’t Ratchet come by and tell you?”
“Tell me what?” Omior stated in confusion. “Was the shop not going to be open today?”
“Of course not darling, I told everyone not to come in today. Ratchet opted to tell you since you were the last one to inform about it,” Rose looked at him apologetically. “Oh I’m so sorry, please let me make it up to you somehow.”
Omior lifted a hand signalling her to cease her talking for a moment. The room was silent for a minute before he spoke up. “You don’t have to worry, it’s good that I know now though.”
The teapot hissed as the water finally boiled up enough. Rose got back up and turned the stove top off, she pulled two mugs out as she spoke up. “I’ll be talking to Ratchet about this tomorrow, you can be sure of that. He shouldn’t of lied to me and causing this predicament.” She handed Omior his mug and sat back down. “He’s always had an attitude since he began working at the shop. His heart is in the right place but his attitude needs a check. I may have to fire him soon, especially because of the way he handles the flowers.”
“I haven’t had the pleasure of seeing how he handles them but, what does he do?”
“I caught him once practically shoving the flowers he was to deliver into that green saddlebag of his, the one with an emblem of a sword with a small glare of light on it. He-Omior? What’s wrong?” She asked as she saw surprise hit his face for a split second.
He responded as if nothing had happened. “What do you mean? Nothing’s wrong. Why?”
“It’s just... nevermind. Was there anything else you’d like to talk about?” Anabelle asked before taking a sip of her tea.
“No,” Omior shook his head, “I do believe that’s all I wanted to talk to you about. I have to get going though.”
“So soon? But you haven’t even touched your tea.” Anabelle asked as she stood up from her seat. She gave Omior a worried look. “Are you sure everything is fine darling?”
He nodded once more and the mare lead him to the front door. The two said their goodbyes and Omior was off back to his home.
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Omior returned home and found, much to his displeasure, the saddlebag from the night before. It was green with the emblem Rose had mentioned. Or at least, what was left of it.
In reaction Omior had tossed the bag away from him. Now though, he seemed content with just sitting in his room, considering everything that was going on. He spent hours trying to piece together everything, the strange string of murders, the saddlebag left in tatters at his back door, the strange attitude Vigil’s had.
Omior grunted and gave a tired stretch. He yawned into his left hand as he looked out of his window.
The sun was already descending over the horizon. “How long was I contemplating this?” Omior considered aloud. Whatever seemed to be going on was affecting him more than he had anticipated.
Omior anxiously sighed and turned over in his bed. It was going to be a long night ahead of him.
2:10 AM
Vigil awoke to a loud crash coming from the downstairs. He sat up from his prone position and looked around his room rapidly before getting off of his bed and heading for his door.
He grabbed a metal stick of sorts he had lying in his room and opened the door. He glanced into the hallway, still though, nothing was in sight.
It took a moment, but Vigil did notice that Omior’s door was ajar. He was about to go over to check it further when another loud crash came from downstairs. He turned his attention back there and rushed to the stairs. He ran down the stairs and saw the back door was wide open.
A small vase was shattered on the floor and the glass holding Omior’s sword was broken into. The sword itself was laying in half on the ground in the mess as well.
Vigil went to the back door and just barely caught the sight of Omior entering the forest. ‘What’s he doing going into the forest? Is he chasing after whoever did this?’ Vigil considered as he stepped out into the cold morning air. He shut the door as best he could in its damaged state before following him.
For ten minutes Vigil chased after the fading form of Omior. He was quick for what appeared to be simple walking. Making turns so quick and barely caught by Vigil he considered for a moment that the warrior was attempting to ditch him. But that was crazy, Omior hadn’t even seen him, and he doubted if he called for him the warrior would’ve heard him either.
Vigil had just lost sight of where Omior had gone as he gasped and leaned against a tree. “I-I need to......*gasp* get back into.....better shape. This is ridiculous.”
He turned his head towards the sound of what seemed to be humming. He stood back up fully from his place against the tree and followed the sound. It quickly lead to a wide open area of flat land. In the center of it, Vigil was surprised to see quite familiar faces.
Omior was the first that Vigil had recognized, standing there in his custom pajamas he seemed devoid of any current thought, as if he was just a corpse standing there. To his left Vigil thought he recognized his boss Steele, standing and staring off just as much as Omior. The other two were similarly in expression and attitude, Anabelle Rose, Omior’s boss, and the final pony was the ever familiar guard captain White.
Vigil curiously watched from his place just within the foliage at the base of the small inclining field. He watched the ground beneath them begin to glow, until finally a loud screech tore through the air. Birds squawked and flew from the trees in a panic as Vigil covered his ears as much as he could.
As quickly as it came, the screech left, leaving behind a dense silence pervaded for a short minute before the sound of metal on metal sounded through the forest. After another half a minute, he heard trees crack and move away as whatever it was was coming, and coming fast.
“Omior!” Vigil yelled out to the entranced human. The human seemed to not hear him and continued with the others to stare into the distance emptily.
A light shine started to come over the hill into Vigil’s sight. He called out again in panic. “Omior! Wake up and come on!” The human blinked and looked around in confusion. “Omior!”
The warrior turned to Vigil and was about to respond when the gleam seemed to overcome Rose, who still was in her trance like state.
As soon as she was completely encumbered by the gleam she began to scream. Omior turned and backed away nervously at the sight. From what little of her body that escaped from the shine was covered in horrible lacerations. Blood spilled left and right from her as she was done unspeakable things.
Omior was about to turn around and run when Rose’s head came off, it rolled towards Omior who was speechless to what he just saw. He looked back up at the gleam which had decided to head for him.
He turned around and began running immediately in a panic, but it was too late. The gleam was upon him and as his body was covered by the strange glow he held his hand out towards Vigil.
The pony in question couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Omior was dying and the only thing left he could do was run. And that’s exactly what he did.
Vigil had turned and ran back into the forest in an attempt to escape it and the weird gleam. He exhaled and inhaled rapidly, sweat beginning to be soaked up by his fur as he tried to remember the way he went.
Vigil swore he felt whatever that glow was on his tail but he didn’t dare look back. A small log came up and he jumped over it in an attempt to make a left turn and gain some distance.
The log came up and Vigil jumped, twisting his body he saw the gleam was a bit farther than he thought, but still not that far behind. He prayed with all his might to Celestia he was going to make it out alive.
Vigil landed on his hooves in mud, the surprise of it alone caused him to lose balance as he skidded towards a large root connection two of the trees. He cursed loudly as he felt his right hoof hit it, sending him flying. He hit back first against a thick tree and sat there in a daze as he tried to tell which way was up.
As soon as he did though, he looked around rapidly for the strange light. “Is it gone?” He asked aloud in confusion after noticing it was nowhere in sight.
He sighed and laughed a bit crazily to himself, in relief and in regret for his human companion.
The leaves above him rustled rather loudly causing Vigil to look up. He did so just in time to see the shape of a knife and the blinding gleam before it was upon him.
The last feeling he felt was utter agony as the knife outline found ways to cut him that he hadn’t thought possible.
The end?