//------------------------------//
// Cold Blooded 
// Story: Contracted 
// by Slywolf930 
//------------------------------//

The waves were throwing themselves onto the shore. The water covered the shore for seconds before being thrown back into the sea. Again and again it happened. The waves had no worries, they had a single objective. Then, the sound of hoof steps entered the ear of the waiting earth pony. He looked away from the shore and sighed. He had a job to do.
Marx was never ungrateful. He was given a task, he completed the task, and then he was paid. That was all he did. So why did it feel like he could do so much more? This was all he was given, and it was better than being left alone. But, that’s the problem. He felt alone almost every day now. Only for brief hours at a time did he feel something more.
Now wasn’t the time for that though, because he had a task. Marx pulled out his small crossbow from his side. He slid his hoof through the strap and made sure it was tight. Then, he pulled out a bolt about four inches long and half an inch in length from his bags. Looking at the tip, he gave another sigh. Orders were orders.
Marx slid the arrow into the crossbow and looked down the sights. Beside the shore was a path that led to a bridge. The hoof steps sounded closer and sure enough, a figure was crossing the bridge. The wooden planks on the bridge echoed his steps just enough for him to hear. Marx had his sights on the figure and waited for him to reach the end of the bridge.
Marx felt a breeze hit his face and calculated for the wind speed. He moved his hoof closer to the trigger that would release the arrow. The hoof steps grew quiet and Marx pushed the trigger. He pulled the crossbow back into the strap on his side. Marx got up and walked towards the path. He could hear the sounds of pain.
Marx approached the squirming body of his target. The arrow had his knee and he was desperately trying to stop the bleeding.
“Help, please! It hurts so much,” The pony said.
“Next time, don’t try to scam a scam artist,” Marx said, grabbing the bags from the fallen pony.
“Please no, I’m sorry. I’ll give it back, just help me!” The pony pleaded.
“You’re not gonna die, maybe. But I’m being paid to take that chance,” Marx said, pulling the ruby necklace out of the bag.
“But what about… wait, paid? You’re not the one I scammed that from?” The pony asked, forgetting about his pain for a second.
“No, but he wanted to teach you a lesson, cause he’s paying me more than this junk,” Marx said, examining the ruby necklace.
“Can you take me to… a hospital? Please… I’m bleeding out,” The pony said, not squirming as much as before.
“Sorry, not in my contract, but I’ll see what I can do,” Marx said, putting the necklace in his bag and walking across the bridge.
Marx heard silence for the next few minutes. The bridge was about to end when he saw a pair of other ponies about to cross. He stopped them before they crossed.
“I think I heard someone calling for help on the other side, but I’m in a hurry so if you know any healing magic, see if he needs it,” Marx said to the stallion. The mare looked at him like he was crazy but Marx continued walking. His contract didn’t say anything on this.
Marx walked down the path taking routes that others wouldn’t normally take. He reached his destination when the looming trees filled with darkness were in front of him. He didn’t hesitate to enter. Up to this point, he was following protocol in losing any potential pursuers. Only those in the Organization walked in this forest without fear.
Marx always thought it was strange why the Princess allowed such a place to exist. He knew that the Princess created it as a type of orphanage, but it quickly grew into so much more. There must have been something the Princess wanted from the Organization, because she turns her head on their operations.
Marx sighed, operations ranged from theft to murder. He was usually in charge of the in-between missions such as this. The employer wanted to send a message as well as retrieve the artifact. Marx would comply no matter the cost. He didn’t care about money, nor did he take any happiness in doing the work.
That was what disturbed Marx the most. Why was his destiny so twisted, while his heart was neutral? He asked himself that so many times, he’s grown accustomed to not finding any answers. Now, he looked up at the place he called home. The trees let up and the grass grew a lighter color here. This was one of the only places in the Everfree Forest that wasn’t wicked.
Celestia couldn’t find anypony to take residence here, except for one individual. The Founder, long deceased, took housing in this place on a few conditions, as Celestia had a few of her own. The conditions were never disclosed to anypony except the current owner. They all called him ‘Boss’ because he ruled the place with a firm hoof.
Marx walked up to the house, small for its contents. On the outside, it was a two story Mansion covering up all the space available from the break in the Everfree Forest. But on the inside, it held underground floors developed from old Diamond Dog tunnels. The floors were numbered off from 0-15. 0 being the first floor, 15 being the very bottom floor. There were 17 floors, but the second story was reserved for the Boss.
Marx walked up to the front. Olden style pillars held up the front of the house, while modern wood was used to create it. Boss’ design, built by some of the workponies it homed. The windows were sealed shut and the window curtains were nailed down. The house was a pure white with a red outline. The pillars were a shade of light red with golden lining. The front door was a deep red, the color of blood. The inside of the door was steel, although you wouldn’t know that unless you looked inside.
Marx pushed on the door and stepped inside. He nodded to the guard inside, and shut the door behind him. The guard was only a formality; nopony would be dumb enough to enter this forest unprepared. Marx went past the notice board and the empty wanted board, along with the filled Bounty board. He went to the end of the hall and down the stairs. This was where everything changed. The walls of the lower floors were made from steel and iron. The steps were icy cold and the air was chilly.
Marx walked down the flight of steps to floor 6. The floors before that were all recreational and workstations. 6-9 held officer rooms, and on 6 in particular, the Organization Treasury. Marx turned down the corridor to one officer in particular. O.L. Or Overlord, like he prefers to be called. He was in charge of the mercenary work. Marx found his door slightly ajar, meaning he wasn’t busy.
Marx pushed open the door, finding O.L. looking over a list of papers, he put them down as Marx came.
“Marx, how’d it go? You’ve been gone for days,” O.L. said.
“Finished, but you forgot to mention how hard it’d be to track him down. I had to ask around, probably raised some suspicion,” Marx said.
“But you got the necklace then?” O.L. asked.
Marx took out the necklace and put it on the table. O.L. took out a jar of ink and a piece of parchment. Marx took out his own parchment and put it next to the necklace. O.L. signed his parchment and then Marx’s. Marx had fulfilled his contract. O.L. looked up at Marx with a raised eyebrow.
“Add it to the Treasury, I don’t want the payment,” Marx said. O.L. nodded, that was usually the case. Sometimes O.L. wished Marx would act like a paid mercenary.
Marx was about to leave before O.L. stopped him. “There’s something else here. I want you to do another job,” O.L. said.
“What type?” Marx asked.
“Dead or Alive,” O.L. said, hoping he’d take it up.
“My choice?” Marx asked.
“Yeah,”
“I’ll take it. Get the contract set up and I’ll get ready,” Marx said.
“Alright, be back in an hour, I’ll have it ready,” O.L. said, glad. Marx was the last open professional before he’d have to turn to one of the amateurs.
Marx left the room and left the door ajar behind him. He walked to the stairs and walked back up to floor 3. The workshop he was most familiar with. Almost as if anticipating his presence, Screw popped his head out of the door.
“Marx, you’re back! I was wanting to show you this new contraption I built. I call it the WingRazor, designed to tangle and ensnare even the toughest of pegasi,” Screw said.
“Good for you, I’ll take two. And if you have any more sleeping darts, I’ll take ten. Add in some of your special darts while you’re at it. I have another job,” Marx said.
“Oh, look at you. You sure have gotten busy lately. I’ll be calling you sir in no time. I’ll get right on that order, right after I show you this,” Screw said, pulling out a three foot blade from almost nowhere.
“Wow, what is that?” Marx asked, surprised at the stealth of the blade.
“It’s a nanoblade. Pure energy wrapped around the steel blade. It comes with a nearly invisible sheath. Compliments to my neighbor. He’s a great tailor, he made me my shirt you know,” Screw said, showing off his lab coat. It was stained black and matched his singed light blue hair. His normal coat color was yellow, but that changed with the soot from failed creations.
“Well, nice shirt, but that’s not for me. I’m more of a natural, ranged weapons kind of guy,” Marx said.
“Well you’ll change your mind eventually. I’ll have the equipment for you soon,” Screw said.
“Thanks Screw, always could count on you,” Marx said.
Marx left the workshop area and went back to the steps. He climbed to the top to pass some time until O.L. had the contract ready. When he reached floor 0, he noticed somepony changing the Bounty board. Marx walked over, not saying a word. He frowned slightly when he saw the change.
“Congrats,” A mare’s voice said behind him. Marx was slightly startled before he saw who it was.
“Rogue, stop doing that, you’re going to give me a heart attack one of these days,” Marx said, seeing the black hair slightly covering her face.
“Well you need to realize that even you can be snuck up on. Besides, that’s not why I startled you. Did you see the change?” Rogue asked.
“Yeah, half a mil,” Marx said.
“You’re making it back to the top. Only a matter of time before you pass me,” Rogue said.
“Please, you hit a mil a long time ago,” Marx said, starting to feel worse.
“Don’t say it like that; you just need to find yourself a good job, that’s all,” Rogue said, giving him a big smile. Marx couldn’t help but smile back; she always did make him feel better.
“I guess, I’ve got another one coming in a few minutes,” Marx said.
“Aw, but you just got here. It must be important, huh?” Rogue asked.
“Dead or Alive, my choice,” Marx said.
“Don’t suppose you’re feeling like a badass, huh?” Rogue asked.
“You know my policy on killing,” Marx said.
“Maybe that’s why you’ve fallen so far behind,” Rogue said.
“Well if you haven’t been distracting me, I could have done more jobs,” Marx said.
“Then take this as a way of making up for it,” Rogue said, handing him a sheathed blade.
“Why would I want your old blade?” Marx asked, grabbing it.
“I know you like doing things the old fashioned way, so I thought you could hold onto it while I tried out Screw’s latest design,” Rogue said, pulling out the almost invisible sheath to show him.
“I’ll hold on to it, but I doubt I’d need to use it,” Marx said.
“That’s a shame, I know how proficient you are with your weapons,” Rogue said, teasing him on his cutie mark. A circle with crosshairs in the middle showed Marx’s perfect accuracy with ranged weapons. Although his proficiency reached farther than just accuracy, as many have seen firsthand. He often wondered why that was.
“Right,”
“Then I’ll be seeing you then. I’ve got my own job to prep for, some family jewels to take, the boring old stuff,” Rogue said.
“Hope you won’t need to use that,” Marx said referring to the new blade.
“That won’t be any fun,” Rogue said, walking toward the door.
Marx had to sigh inwardly. He was the only professional who didn’t enjoy killing as much as the others. He pondered how Rogue, a green coated mare, could feel fine with getting blood on her and laugh while doing it. She didn’t seem the type to be up for that. On the other hand, the other professionals looked understandable…
“Ahem,” Rogue said, looking back at him.
Marx realized he’d been staring at her leave, and most pointedly, at her flank.
“Come back after you’ve hit one mil, then we’ll talk,” Rogue said, shutting the door behind her. The guard chuckled at that, but changed his mind when Marx squinted his eyes. You don’t have to kill for fun to be feared.
Marx decided it’s been long enough and he descended the steps. On the way, he passed three of the new recruits talking near the stairs. They looked up, but they didn’t give him acknowledgement. Marx wasn’t in the top five, so they didn’t have to salute or say hello. What made this stand out, was that they were the newest of the new of the recruits.
“Done any jobs yet?” Marx asked.
“What does it matter to you?” The eldest one, with a light brown coat asked. He had a scar under his nose, and he didn’t look happy.
“Just wondering,” Marx asked, wondering what could have gotten him so pissed.
“Mind your own business, huh?” one of the others said. He had a light red mane with half his mane burnt off, leaving a few orange strands where half his hair once was.
“Take it easy, what’s gotten you all in such a mess?” Marx asked.
“Kate…” The third said, looking away. Marx could see some watery eyes before he turned. His blonde mane covered his face from Marx.
“Kate?” Marx asked.
“Just get out of here,” The brown pony said, also turning his head.
“Alright, just learn to keep those feelings aside during jobs,” Marx said walking back down more stairs. He heard one of them reply, but he didn’t care. The new recruits need to learn the hard way not to get too attached to things. They can be taken away in a heartbeat.
Marx went down to the workshop and found Screw at his door. He held the items out for Marx to stuff in his bag in the same positions as always. It was about time for a refill, he’d used quite a few sleeping darts lately. For three inch long shafts and one-fourth inch long diameters, they were easily used up. Then, he looked at Screw when he wasn’t handed the special darts.
“I’m sorry, I’m out of supplies for them right now. I’ll try to get them ready for you next time. You won’t need them anytime soon, right?” Screw asked.
“I can make due, thanks anyways Screw,” Marx said.
Marx made his way to the officer rooms and into O.L.’s room. O.L. handed him the contract without a word. Marx knew the routine, sign the paper and you accept. He skimmed the contract and his eyes fell on the bottom portion where it contained the job details.
Employer(s): The CRG
“What’s this?” Marx asked.
“The employer asked that if you had any questions to meet them at a Café in Canterlot. Also, when you finish the job, they want to personally meet you,” O.L. said. Marx nodded and continued reading.
Time given: Unlimited
Payment on completion: 750,000 bits
Marx jumped to the bottom entries. His eyes lit up on the familiar words.
Target Location: Ponyville
Target: The Elements of Harmony
Accepted by: _______________________________
Marx signed the contract.