1
July 11th, 1007,
A week. It’s been a full week since I’ve begun my search, with nothing to show for it. It’s… frustrating, to say the least. Four ponies cannot be this hard to find. Especially criminals.
It’s easy to preach vigilance, but almost impossible to maintain it. Especially when I’ve fallen asleep more often than not while trying to keep a lookout.
Should I just give it up, journal? I wish I could talk to you… or anypony, for that matter. Just to have someone hear my plight, offer me guidance. I’ve caught up with an old friend, a mare only a couple years older than me. She had once been my brother’s sweetheart. Still… Primrose lives a carefree life. Loving family, warm home, work after school… she’s as typical a teenage pony as you could find. How could I possibly lay it on her that her new best friend is secretly a… a…
A what? A vengeful night stalker masquerading as a ‘hero’? Can I even use the title of hero anymore? All I’ve done so far is stop purse snatchers when there were no guards around. But is that enough? Market Street has been buzzing lately with deeds of this purple-clad mare coming out of the shadows at night. I must admit, it’s amusing to hear their exaggerations of my deeds… telling stories of things I haven’t even done! Word spreads fast in this city. Frighteningly so.
Maybe I need a break. A night off. It’s been a whole week, what’s one night? Would it really be the one night I might have a chance encounter? No, I think I’ve earned this one. Maybe myself and Prim will hit the town. A girl’s night out, you know? I do have a hefty amount of bits saved up from work, after all…
Yes. This is what I need. It will do me some good. You’ve always given me the best of advice, journal, even if you can’t say anything at all.
I look forward to tomorrow night. But for now… I could really sleep.
-Snow Storm
2
“So, Snowy, how have things been going since the Oranges took you in?” Primrose asked her friend as they walked down the street. With the sun long below the horizon, the twilight sky was a magnificent purple as it slowly transitioned into full night.
Snow Storm nodded her head agreeably enough, indicating everything had been good so far.
“It’s been awhile now, hasn’t it? Feels like forever since we just decided to hang out.”
The mute mare shrugged. It was her favorite response to just about everything.
“It’s been so long… didn’t think I’d see you again, to be honest. This city is huge, it feels even bigger now that I’m not a kid anymore…” Her voice trailed off.
“I couldn’t believe it, when I heard the news,” she said sadly, and suddenly. “Frosty… I never even got to say goodbye. I don’t remember the last thing I said to him, for that matter. I couldn’t believe it. I still don’t want to… why did it have to happen, Snowy? He was so young, and so kind. Why did it have to be him?” Her voice cracked at the last word. She took in a deep breath, and released it slowly.
Snow Storm shrugged in response, not particularly interested in conversing about it… though it seemed like Primrose herself had been bottling up her own negative feelings all these years. At least she can express them…
Don’t be silly. You can too, once you get the chance. Oh, yes. When she finally gets the chance to, she’ll very much express her feelings. All over their faces, if she has a mind to.
“I’m sorry Snowy, it’s just been so long since I’ve had anyone to talk to about this… my folks don’t want to know. Hell, nopony does. His name is practically forbidden in my house now, and my new coltfriend’s no use. Cute, klutzy and helpless, but he’s no good when it comes to words…” She sighed, blinking back her tears.
Snow Storm cocked an eyebrow at that one. New coltfriend? It sure didn’t take her long, did it?
“... Please don’t judge me Snowy,” Primrose said, noting the look that was given to her. “I know how it looks, but I just couldn’t bear it. It was driving me crazy being alone after it happened. I guess it must be even worse for you though… look at me, some help I am! I should be trying to keep your mind off of it!” She let out a weak, pathetic laugh.
Snow Storm shrugged again, stifling a yawn. The lit streets of Manehattan were slowly trickling down to near empty - not surprising, since all the ‘night-life’ action was really happening a mile or two away, in deep downtown.
“After the movie, you wanna go down to the Headless Horse? It’s the toughest bar in town, you’ll love it! Beats hearing me mope about the past, right? I’ll buy the drinks.” She smiled, apparently trying to steer the conversation elsewhere in a less than graceful fashion.
Snow Storm frowned at that. The idea of a rough-and-tumble bar sounded fun; very fun, actually. But drinking? The hardest thing she’d ever had was her Master’s tea… which, when she thought about it, could just about knock out a dragon.
“Don’t worry, we’ll only order a cider… this time.” Her friend grinned mischievously. “I mean, when you hang out at a bar you gotta think about appearance. Order an orange juice and they’ll laugh you outta town…” Prim shrugged while following her own ever-twisting train of thought. “Though frankly I’d rather have the juice. liquor still tastes like soap to me.”
The two continued down the street for a few minutes before they spotted a group of youths hanging out on a street corner. One wolf-whistled from a distance. Prim immediately turned to Snow Storm. “Let’s cross the street, I don’t want to deal with pricks like that right now,” she said, trying to sound casual about it.
Snow Storm nodded, cocking one ear towards the group just in case they tried to be funny. Different from those thieves... more malicious. Just try us, she thought coldly, immediately filing them as a non-threat. Compared to the hellish training she went through, though… well, most of this city was really a non-threat.
The two mares continued on for a minute before Prim froze. She could sense two of the stallions right behind herself and Snow. She began to walk faster. “If they get any closer, we run, got it?” she whispered frantically, clearly terrified of their stalkers.
Snow Storm frowned, stopping dead in her tracks; this silliness had to end here and now. Besides, seeing her normally-cool friend being terrified out of her wits struck a chord in her.
“What’s the matter, ladies?” One of the stallions grinned, slightly off-put. Mares were supposed to run away, not stop! This wasn’t fun. But what the hay, if they didn’t bolt then they’d just be easier targets. “A bit late for two pretty mares to be walking alone, isn’t it? Me and my friend here would be glad to escort you…”
“M-maybe some other time, I’m afraid we’ve got places to be right now-” Prim began, carefully eyeing a chance to run.
“Oh, I’m sure you do…” The other sneered, letting out an annoying little chuckle. His voice grated against Snow Storm’s ears - she was just waiting for the chance to shut him up. “But I’m thinking maybe you and us go make a night of it, hmm? I know a nice place a few blocks from here.”
“Listen, we’re busy-” Prim began before the taller of the stallions grabbed her by the shoulder.
“Heheh, maybe you’ll loosen up a bit if-”
The stallion who grabbed Prim was on the ground in a flash, with what had felt like a lead brick jammed deep into his gut. He whimpered at Snow Storm's feet. She glared at the other, putting herself between him and Primrose. In any other circumstance, the image of a petite mare defending someone a couple of feet taller than herself would've been comical. But tonight? Tonight it was almost terrifying.
The other one fled, leaving his buddy writhing on the ground. Primrose backed into a wall and slowly sank down, tears beginning to well up in the corner of her eyes.
“Oh Snowy, if you hadn’t been there…” she began, visibly shaking from what just happened. “I was so scared. This city’s changed, Snowy. It never used to be like this…”
Snow Storm patted the mare on the shoulder, then gave her a comforting hug. Prim's eyes widened for a moment, feeling the underlying muscle beneath her friend's deceptively petite exterior. It was a hell of a shock, to say the least - Snow's entire body felt like a steel-coiled spring ready to snap.
“Snow...” Prim said, her voice barely a whisper. “Snowy… what happened to you?”
She pulled back, giving Prim a quizzical look. The stallion continued to moan, rolling around on the sidewalk and clutching his gut.
“Damnit, what are you, you freak?” he asked, coughing out a gob of phlegm.
Primrose glared at the stallion, regaining her composure and adding a temper to boot. Now that the threat was gone, she was feeling spry. “You’re not very smart if you think you can call someone who just kicked your flank a ‘freak’.”
“You think you’ve won? She won’t always be there to protect you. Sooner or later…” he laughed nastily at her.
Snow Storm landed a swift jab at his throat, just to stop his laugh.
* * *
“That… that was incredible! Where did you learn to fight like that?” An incredulous Prim asked Snow Storm as they continued on with their night. Now that everything had settled down, Primrose was right back to her old self. “I mean, wow! Wish I had moves like that… so why did you decide to train? I mean, I can understand wanting a little self-defense after what happened, but I doubt there are many ponies in Manehattan that can fight like that!”
Snow Storm grunted, writing down a note. Stopping every few feet just to communicate was quickly becoming annoying. She’d need to break this mental barrier keeping her voice away sooner rather than later. ‘Self defense.’
“I don’t think I could fight like that. I’ve never really been fond of fighting, even when I was a filly I’d never fight back against any of the bullies at school, remember? You protected me, even back then…”
The mute mare grinned as she wrote now. ‘Imagine if I had these moves back then… I’d’ve been in detention a lot more.’
“If you could fight back then the way you fight now, you’d probably have put them in the ground, not the hospital!” Prim remarked, still a little scared of how much her friend had changed.
‘Not that Skyhopper didn’t deserve it. Remember him? Always teased you. I beat him up more than anypony else.’
“Yeah, I remember… he was kinda cute in hindsight,” she admitted shyly. “Bet he’s still an asshole, though.”
‘Surprised he’s not in Juvenile hall.’
“So, have you heard about the strange mare that’s been showing up around the city? All the newspapers are going crazy trying to guess who she is… most are trying to claim she’s a celebrity or famous politician. I think it’s awesome, but not everyone’s a fan. My folks think she’s a menace.”
Snow Storm had to smile to herself - a bit of egotripping wouldn’t hurt, after all. ‘I’ve heard of her. Market Street is abuzz with it - they talk about nothing else now.’
“I just want to know why she didn’t just join the Guard like everybody else.That way she wouldn’t have become a wanted criminal… the Mayor issued a statement this morning. She’s wanted for vigilantism.”
‘Maybe she is a guard?’
“Hmm, I doubt it. It’s an exhausting job, even the strongest pony would be too tired to pull off that sort of work part-time, at least not as regularly as she does… tell ya though, half the guards are on her side. And the city can’t stop talking about her… I mean, it’s pretty exciting. Our very own superhero!”
As they arrived at the cinema, Primrose let out a sigh of relief. Nopony else had bothered them, and she was thankful for that. “Well, we might as well head inside. Though after tonight I’m not so sure I need any more excitement…” Prim half-laughed.
Snow Storm nodded, following her friend.
3
“Mr. Orange, would it be alright if I went and helped Snowy with the cart from now on?” Prim asked the next morning. “I can sell the product more easily given she’s currently mute, and she’s probably pretty lonely out there right now, I’m sure she’d appreciate the company.”
“This is quite a sudden request,” Mosely Orange said, lowering his paper to look at the filly. “But, I do recall you both being quite close, a long time ago. Wishing to catch up on old times?”
“Oh definitely! It’s been a long time… oh, but if she doesn’t want me to tag along I’d understand. It’s been a long time, it’s almost like she’s a different pony now.”
“I would be remiss to lose such a productive picker - I daresay unicorn magic is far easier than bucking trees. However, I would be a terrible employer to not let you do as you wish.” He grinned lightly, seeing the relief on Primrose’s face. “Go on, then. I’m sure she would welcome a break from the monotony of that cart.”
* * *
Snow Storm looked exhausted after a fairly unproductive day. The sun hung lazily in the sky, basking Market Street in its terrible heat that was unfiltered by a blue, cloudless day. Barely a handful of customers had even stopped all afternoon, leaving Snow Storm to boredly roll a tangerine between her hooves. By the time Primrose strolled up to her friend an hour later, the mute mare was fast asleep, her face flat against the unshaded cart.
Prim waited a good ten minutes before waking her, deciding to take the time to get used to the stall.
“Orange Family Oranges! The freshest citrus in town!” she cried enthusiastically, though she quickly found the townsfolk rather uninterested. She turned to her dozing best friend and gave her a gentle nudge.
“Mr. Orange let me work here with you! Oh, if you’re alright with it, that is. I figured you could use the company, but if you’d rather I just left you be just say the word and I’ll go back.” She smiled brightly, choosing her words carefully.
Snow Storm choked on a snore and came fully awake, reaching out with an automatic self-defense reaction at Prim before stopping herself.
Prim recoiled slightly, a noticeable fear in her eyes.
“S-sorry about that,” she mumbled awkwardly. “I forgot you know all the karate stuff.” She stared out at the fairly empty streets, and then turned to Snow Storm. “Y’know, I’m not sure this is the best place to get customers. I mean, it’s the end of a fairly long day, where would you go after work? I think I know just the place…” She grinned. “You wanna help me move this thing? There’s a pub on the other side of town, ‘Rose Garden’, and they happen to do a pretty nice cocktail with a slice of orange. Might be a fast way to get rid of some of our inventory, if they’re interested.”
Before Snow Storm could answer one way or the other, a scratchy, annoying voice assaulted their ears. “Well well, lookie here! What’s with this rotten fruit, anyways? No wonder ponies choose our Rind Family Citrus!”
“Hah! You aren’t even allowed to call them oranges, are you? Like anyone would want to buy the nasty, bitter things you peddle,” Prim spat, sneering at the pony who had just addressed them. “The Orange family treats it’s oranges with respect. You use those nasty machines the Flim Flam brothers invented, and you can taste it in every miserable bite of the fruit you sell!”
“Taste don’t matter, bits do! So, a setup by the Rose Garden, eh? Thanks for the idea!” He blew a shrill whistle down to his own fruit stand. “Come on, boyos! We got a new place to work!”
“Damnit, me and my big mouth… sorry Snowy, looks like we’re stuck here.” She sighed.
Snow Storm shook her head; her face scrunched up in frustration. ‘You think we’re gonna take that from them?’ she wrote down, already packing the cart while Prim read.
“Well no, but if Mr. Orange found out we were making trouble with our rivals… I don’t think he wants us to so much as acknowledge the existence of those clowns...”
Snow Storm was already strapped in and moving. Prim sighed. “This isn’t going to end well…” she muttered, following along.
* * *
“Well well, if it isn’t our competition, late to the party as usual? Sorry girls, I’m afraid the Rose Garden won’t be needing your services for a long, long-urgh!” The Rind stallion was struck with an orange. Snow Storm turned, shocked to see Prim had thrown one first.
“Well if we’re gonna do this, we might as well throw the first punch, right?” She grinned.
Unbeknownst to both parties, a crowd was beginning to form both inside and out of the pub. Inside, bets were being laid down as the mares inside watched the unfolding battle with bated breath.
“...Wait a second, I have an idea!” Prim said, climbing on top of the cart and addressing the crowd.
“Ladies and gentlecolts, are you tired of the inferior products these has-beens have been peddling for far too long? Then take up arms with us, and show them what real oranges taste like! Just two bits for some ammo!” She grinned happily as, after a few second, a crowd began to surge toward the Orange family cart.
“I’ll take five, the Rind family sells horrible oranges!”
“Same here!”
The elder Rind son took the cue, and stood on his own cart. “Ponies, hear me! Those oranges are fake! I have it on good authority that the Orange family uses steroids in their products!”
The fat mare Snow Storm recognized from a week ago appeared from the crowd. Her son sat next to her, clutching his belly in an over exaggerated manner.
“It’s true! My son was complaining of an upset stomach for days after eating their oranges- and the salespony was very rude as well!” she scoffed, buying several boxes of the Rind’s fruits.
“Yeah!”
“She doesn’t even say hello to anyone!”
“Because she can’t speak, moron!”
Prim snarled, turning to her friend in shame.
“Just ignore them, Snowy,” she said, visibly upset for her friend. “They don’t know what they’re talking about.” She grabbed an orange, staring into the crowd. “Which one of you has a problem with her being mute? Huh? Because I’ve got an orange with your name on it!”
“Yeah!” the crowd near Prim shouted in unison. They were ready to come to the defense of the Orange Family’s honor. Before long, the mass of ponies had split into two sides, each one raring to go. Prim grinned.
“Alright men, they’ve picked their side, now let’s show them the Rind family has the best citrus in the city! Who’s with me?” Neville Rind shouted to the other half of the crowd.
“Alright, on my mark! Ready… steady…”
“What the hell is going on here?” a gruff Fulake Snow Storm recognized as Flyntt flew into the crowd. “Who started this? Well? Fess up!”
Both Primrose and the Rind son pointed hooves at each other, with the crowd following suit.
“I want to know what’s going on here. Pelleas!” he yelled, “we have a situation!”
“But sir, we’re not on duty for several hours,” Pelleas said, frowning and coming up to his friend and superior. Plus I’d rather be sleeping the day away.
“Hmm… well then, I guess technically we’re on break, aren’t we?” A twinkle set in his playful eye. “Tell me Pelleas, are you an Orange pony or a Rind pony?"
“Orange, definitely,” the cadet managed through a yawn.
“What kind of Guards are you!?” It was the rotund mare again. Her voice was indignant, almost offended even. “This is highly unprofessional! Just go back to your caves if you can’t keep the peace!”
“Tell me, Pelleas,” Flyntt smiled “what’s the penalty a guard suffers for inciting and/or participating in a riot? I know you’ve read the rulebook back to front twice already.”
“Sir, I say we just take a leaf out of your book and walk away from this one.”
“Yeah, that’s right! Go back to your belfry, you bats!” a random stallion in the crowd jeered at the two. Pelleas’ left eye twitched slightly.
“It seems as though racism is still rampant in this place,” Pelleas growled, ready to shove his hoof in the mare’s fat face.
“Remember kid,” Flyntt whispered to his friend “hit ‘em, and it’s assaulting a civilian. Instant expulsion from the guards. But there’s no rules about hitting ‘em with an orange…” He smiled.
“Alright, I think we’re done here folks. Give the Rind family back their oranges, they can barely afford to make ends meet as it is, the last thing they need is a food fight- and it would be a shame to waste the superior produce that the Orange family sell...” Flyntt awaited the inevitable reaction this would cause.
“And just what precisely is going on here?” A unicorn in Day Guard armor trotted up - Lieutenant Murdoc, Flyntt identified. An unsavory hardass if ever there was one. Flyntt’s good nature suddenly dispersed, like the sun being blotted out by a particularly dark storm cloud. That was really the best way to describe Murdoc: A very dark, thunderous storm cloud.
“Finally, a unicorn! Somepony sensible!” To no one’s surprise, it was once again the fat mare, notorious around town for making her voice be heard by as many ponies as possible.
“We were just, erm… dispersing an unruly crowd,” Flyntt said nervously. By Luna, he hated Murdoc and the stick that was jammed up his rear. “A food fight was about to break out, but we’re lucky you showed up sir; seems a couple of Fulake don’t carry much say around here, even guards…”
Lieutenant Murdoc cocked an eyebrow at the Fulake. Equal, his flank. Night Guards were almost always useless. “You wouldn’t happen to be instigating this little scenario? You do have quite the reputation back at the Barracks.”
“Now hold on a second-” Pelleas stepped up, but faltered when Murdoc shot him a venomous look.
“I will not be talked back to by a lowly Cadet!”
“F-forgive him sir, he’s a newbie. You know how cadets can be, don’t you? I’ll make sure he learns some respect by the next time you see him…” He shot a look at Pelleas and prayed the kid got the message.
“Anyway, from what I can gather the crowd was divided over a dispute. Seems the Oranges and the Rinds have started feuding again, from what I could tell at least. We were just telling everyone to pack it in when you showed up, funnily enough.”
“That’s not true!” the mouthy mare piped up, strutting her way to the front of the crowd. She leveled her stern gaze at Murdoc. “This heathen was just about start a riot! I daresay a marvelous Unicorn such as yourself should not be subjected to working in the same profession as a… as a monster! They should have all been wiped out with Nightmare Moon!”
The entire crowd gasped - even those on the Rind side.
“...I hardly think it’s the time to let personal feelings get in the way of doing my job,” Flyntt managed calmly to himself, though beneath his exterior was a boiling fury. There were some things in this world you just don’t joke about. “We should handle this like professionals, regardless of what our feelings on the matter may be.”
Murdoc stared crossly at Flyntt, and then slowly, slowly turned his head to face the mouthy mare. “You, civilian, will never insult one of my Guard brothers like that again. I may not like the Night Guard, I may not particularly like this stallion right here, but I would give my life to save his, and he’d do the same for me.” His face was a snarl as he advanced upon her - she herself seemed to shrink, with her son clutching her rear leg tightly. “I should have you arrested.”
“Well it seems I was wrong about you after all! Any stallion that would take the side off a filthy winged rat deserves to be cast out with the rest of them! Hmph!” she said, quickly regaining her uppity nerve. She was turning to leave when, suddenly, an orange landed on Murdoc’s face.
“Sir, are you going to let her get away with that?” Flyntt asked, seizing this golden opportunity. “She clearly assaulted you with an orange.”
“It’s true, I saw her do it!” a voice said from the crowd.
“Me too, she just chucked it out of nowhere!” said another.
“I will not participate in such childish endeavors. However, Lieutenant Flyntt… as I recall, you’re not on shift yet. When I walk away, I’ll have no idea what happened here.”
“Of course. Have a nice day, sir.” Flyntt nodded and saluted as the unicorn walked off.
There was a moment of tense silence after Murdoc’s departure… followed by all hell breaking loose.
4
Ten minutes later, the streets ran with sweet, wasted orange juice. Prim laughed at the ridiculous carnage that surrounded them.
“We’ll need to make a quick stop at a friend’s house on the way back,” she said to Snow Storm, who was picking up what remained of the pulped fruits and chucking them in the trash. “He owes me a little money and I want to pay for the wasted inventory,”
She looked up at Prim curiously, shaking her sticky hooves. Sweet Luna I could use a shower.
“Don’t worry, it won’t take long, and it’s my fault we lost the oranges in the first place. I bet you’ll like him,” she said fondly, wiping her forehooves on her clothes. “He’s such a sweetheart.”
* * *
“Buck, open up! I kinda need that money you owed me, it’s important,” Prim said as she knocked on the door to her friend’s apartment. Snow Storm, meanwhile, stared out the nearby window, not particularly interested in meeting this coltfriend of Prim’s, especially if he was a… replacement.
Not to mention she was exhausted, continually fighting down yawns. But more importantly, she was itching to get out into the city. Tonight was the night something would happen, she just knew it.
“Hey there, Prim!” a strangely familiar voice said from behind the opening door. “So is this your friend? Nice to meet ya, the name’s Bolt Buck!” He extended a friendly hoof out to the barely-attentive small mare.
Snow Storm shrugged, dragging her attention away from the window with some effort. Her gaze fell upon the stallion. She blinked… and it felt as though her blood had turned to ice-water. That face… that body… Her mind regressed to when she was a filly, accessing dormant memories. She had seen him before, long ago. He was one of the four giants looming over her child self; one of the four different voices booming with malicious laughter. They were laughing. She remembered that. She remembered the fear she had felt then, but now that dull fear had been honed and sharpened into anger. She remembered him. Very, very clearly.
“Are you alright, Snowy?” Prim asked, but decided not to press the matter.
The mute mare blinked twice, shook her head to clear her mind, and offered her hoof to him with a companionable smile. The very idea of touching him repulsed her to no end, but now would be the wrong time to attack. She made a mental note of his apartment address - it would come in handy later this night.
His eyes betrayed a look of mild confusion, as if he were on the precipice of familiarity… but it was just out of reach. How much did he remember, if anything? It hardly mattered, really. That night he would remember everything… and pay dearly for it.
“So, you friends with Prim?” He smiled, hugging Snow Storm’s friend close.
“Eheheh, he’s the one I mentioned before,” she admitted shyly. “I hope… you’re not too angry with me, Snowy.” She hung her head slightly, unable to meet Snow Storm’s gaze. “I know it must feel like it’s too soon, but it’s been five years. As much as I miss him I can’t stay alone forever, can I?”
“Aw, why would she even be mad? Wait… you two weren’t a thing…?” Bolt Buck looked between the mares, confused.
“No. Her brother… a gang of thugs killed him five years ago. He and I…” her voice trailed off.
“...” The stallion swallowed. “How many bits was it you said?” he asked, his tone shifting noticeably. “Fifteen? I’ll get ‘em.”
“... Well that was strange,” Primrose said, turning to Snow Storm. “He’s usually a lot more cheerful. Guess something about you must’ve spooked him… Snowy? You alright?”
She scribbled quickly, ‘Popcorn must’ve given me an upset stomach, that’s all.’
Buck returned a few moments later with the money.
“L-listen, I’m kinda busy today,” he stammered “I don’t mean to be rude, but I can’t stick around. Me and a friend got some business tonight, so I guess I’ll see you tomorrow… maybe,” he added, almost silently.
“Err… okay then.” Primrose took the bits, slipping them into her purse and sounding a little put-off. “Well, I guess we’ll just be heading off then. Seeya later, Buck.”
Prim turned to her friend as they walked away, “Snowy, I’m really sorry about all that. He’s usually so much friendlier…”
* * *
That night, Bolt Buck paced back-and-forth in his darkened apartment. He continuously threw glances at the door and out the window, biting his lower lip. Sooner or later the Guard would show up, putting him away for a five-year-gone murder that he was even barely part of!
“It can’t be…” he muttered to himself in his umpteenth round. “That’s the filly… no, it can’t be. Agh! What am I even worried about, eh?” He finally stopped and dropped to his haunches, laughing pathetically into the night. “She was just a kid! She don’t remember nothin’! She won’t tell the Guard, nah, I’m just being silly.”
He froze, turning towards a noise on the balcony outside his apartment. It seemed too loud to be that neighbor’s blasted cat that always enjoyed bugging him, but what else was it going to be? As he turned away, he could hear something else… hoofsteps. Within seconds a large silhouette towered imposingly before him, the darkness making the mare larger and more frightening in his mind.
She simply stood there as he backed into a corner, having found that the more she drew out an encounter, the more fear she could instill in her opponent.
“Y-y-y-y-” He slapped himself across the face. “You’re that what’s it… Mare do Good or whatever! You spooked me,” He breathed a sigh of relief, seeming to drop his guard. “Whaddya want? I got no beef with you!”
She pressed him against the wall, her foreleg cocked to his throat, cutting off his air.
His wide eyes shifted side to side, unable to look at her masked face. He tried willing himself to melt into the wall, anything to escape this monster. “Wha!?” he sputtered, clenching his eyes shut.
She slammed her hoof hard next to his head, putting a large dent in the wall. She waited for him to open his eyes and when he finally did, she thrust a photo of her brother into his face.
“I don’t- I don’t-” he cried, bleating out an agonized moan.
Snow Storm removed her mask at last, looking him dead in the eye. In a flash of brilliant insight, he understood everything.
“P-please, I’m sorry! Don’t hurt me anymore, I’m sorry!” he said, starting to cry as he struggled to breathe. “It was years ago! We was just stupid kids, that’s all!”
Undeterred by his pathetic grovelling, she began her five-year revenge.
* * *
“Sir, did you hear that?” Pelleas asked, stopping in his tracks and cocking his head sideways, ears vibrating lightly. “Sounded like a scream.”
“...Crap. And it was such a nice, quiet night too.” Flyntt grunted. “Well kid, you know the drill. You take the window, I’ll hit the stairs. Make sure they don’t get away, whoever they are,” he said before rushing off into the building.
Up the stairs, Flyntt ran headlong into the slender hind quarters of another Lieutenant, Aella.
“Watch it!” she snapped, feeling a heat rise in her face. “That’s not the first time you’ve run into me, Flyntt.”
“Yeah, well quit being such an obstacle then. You heard the scream, right? We don’t have time for this, some pony could be dying just a few feet away!” he said crossly.
“Oh, don’t worry, he’s not dying.” She pointed to a corner of the apartment, where a stallion rocked back and forth in the fetal position, clutching his tail and sobbing. “I’ve identified a few bruises, a badly twisted pastern and a broken jaw, but that’s it. Looks more like the poor guy’s been scared half to death.”
“He’ll need medical treatment. Oh, did you catch a glimpse of the perp, by the way?” Flyntt asked casually.
“Might not even be a perp,” Aella said, nodding toward a drawer. “There’s a vial of Diamond Eyes in there. My guess is he took some and freaked out. Probably started seeing crap and hurt himself.”
“Hmm… take the drug as evidence, wouldja? And go track down my cadet,” he said, annoyed at the absense of his partner.
“Yeah, sure. And I’ll get a ride for this guy while I’m at it,” the Fulake mare said, snatching up the drugs and walking off. “Oh, and Flyntt?”
“Yeah?”
“You really need to stop trying to crawl up my ass. It was one dance.”
“It’s not my fault you’re the cutest bat in the Barracks.” He grinned. “Well anyway, I’m gonna have a quick word with this guy, see how he’s doing. Oh, and if you see Pelleas, tell him he’s a screwup for me, willya? Kid can’t even follow simple procedures…”
Flyntt turned to the pathetic stallion, still convulsing before them. He cleared his throat; he was never particularly good at playing the ‘good guard’.
“Hey there,” he said in a gentle voice. “I don’t recommend trying to say anything, your jaw’s broken. Not that I need to tell you, right? Here’s some paper, write whatever you gotta say,” he said, handing the stallion something to write on.
Bolt Buck flailed his hooves, pushing the paper away as though it would attack him.
“Wow, you’re in a bad way… c’mon, we’re taking you to the hospital. I swear I ain’t gonna hurtcha. Your legs aren’t broken, so stand up and let’s go.” He grinned warmly, trying to soothe the poor guy.
The heap-of-a-stallion muttered something that almost sounded like ‘momma’.
“Oh for the love of…” Flyntt sighed, shaking his head. “It’s gonna be one of those nights. Luna help me.”