//------------------------------//
// Death Dancer 
// Story: Flatline Services 
// by ProbableSarcasm 
//------------------------------//

On the other side of Canterlot: Miami



It all seemed to fly past in a blur, Jacket's dream did. His actions the previous night seemed to be lost in his endless trap of memories, and it wasn't going to let up anytime soon. His pent up guilt kept pumping up to the back of his throat, no matter how many times he watered it down with the same excuse since day one.
I have no choice, I do what I got to do.

No matter how many times he tried to cut himself off from emotion, it never seemed to stick. In fact, this denial of emotions has only drove him further into the deep dark realm that is his remorse for their deaths. Jacket's bloodstained hooves smeared the red fluid across his face as he slipped his face into his hooves, trying to calm himself. The blood only made Jacket's nostrils flare in disgust, shock, and revulsion all at once.

Jacket was in his bathroom, as it seemed. A bathroom. It was dirty, cockroaches littered the ground and they scurried on to find shelter away from the light. Into the walls and into the drain of the sink, Jacket learnt his lesson about opening the cabinets when a giant bat slammed into his face. Jacket kept staring himself in the mirror, only seeing a bloodstained psychopath rather than the honest Earth Pony he once was. The more Jacket blinked, the variety of animal masks on his reflection he meets.

Jacket gagged, leaning over the sink and vomited. 

Jacket wiped his mouth with his sleeve, wishing this nightmare would just end. Jacket turned to his right to find a dead pegasus in his shower, a baseball bat hovering over the deceased pony. Ambient sounds grew louder and louder in Jacket's ears, compelling him to turn on his hooves and exiting the bathroom to face the music of his conscious eating away at his mind.  Jacket walked down the hallway, seeing the three characters he knows and would give everything to never see again.

From the three of them, not one word was spoken. Instead, every time Jacket blinked: the room became bloodier, dead bodies piled up, guns and bullet shell casings littered the ground. Skulls were on the two chairs of Don Juan and Rasmus, each of them engraving a statement on each of them. Jacket gulped, and made his way forward. Jacket grabbed Don Juan's skull in between his hooves, and examined it to the best of his abilities.

The skull was neat, clean, one hole in between the eyes. A nine millimeter pistol and the shot wasn't military precision, but very clean entry. No exit wound. Jacket turned the skull over to find a series of letters he could not read, or make out. Jacket felt warmth when he held this skull, he felt like he was... being loved. A feeling he's not felt since leaving his mother's home, not even his teenage years ha he truly felt this sort of warmth inside.

Jacket let go of the skull, letting it rest on the chair carefully, and then turned to Rasmus's skull, and he trudged closer to the chair. He felt uneasy approaching the chair, usually Jacket would be frozen in place and not allowed this amount of freedom to even back away from the discussions. Jacket touched the top of the pony skull and he felt his veins turn cold, his teeth grit, his breathing quicken, and his snout curled back into a snarl. Feeling this skull made him feel frustrated, angry, even enraged.

Jacket wanted to crush this skull with his bare hooves, but he didn't. Either out of common sense, or compelled to Jacket dropped the skull onto the chair and didn't even want to pretend it wasn't there. He just wanted to smash this skull into the ground, pulverized, turned to dust of calcium and splatter the brain matter across the walls in a fit of anger. Jacket tried to let out a growl but clenched his throat with a hoof, his throat excruciatingly burning.

Jacket is a mute.

Jacket turned to the only chair remaining, and there was nothing but a box, a mask, and a note. Jacket knew instantly the mask was Richard, the box and the note were familiar. Jacket picked up the mask, noticing it was too small for him. Jacket simply placed the mask into the box and placed the note inside the mask, Jacket closed the box and it disappeared from his eyes.

Jacket was confused, what now? Was there something he was missing?

Jacket trotted back down towards the bathroom, but was stopped by an invisible wall. His eyes widen at a figure in the distance, and he couldn't tell if he should stand and fight or if he should flee. Jacket's eyes strained to see this mystery figure, but all he could make out was a shining knife.



April 2nd, 19XX
Awake.

Jacket rolled out of bed, his brown and white jacket in the laid out in front of him. Jacket knew it couldn't possibly be cleaned, so he went to his closet opposite from his bed, and opened the door. Jacket remembered buying spares when he was a foal, Jacket wasn't the cleanest guy on this planet but he could tell when enough is enough and to clean his house to the best of his abilities. It's not much, but at least he could move a pizza box into the garbage and his house could look clean to the naked eye.

This letterman jacket had a more yellowish shade of brown as a base color, but his sleeves were white. Jacket dug through his pocket and pulled out a carton of cigarettes, his other pocket holding a lighter.  Jacket took a single fag from the carton and lit it up with the lighter, sucking in the smoke into his lungs and expelling it. The nicotine buzzing in his head, dulling the uncomfort in his throat and instead made him feel relaxed. Calmer.

Jacket kept the cigarette in his mouth, anchoring the fag with his teeth.  Jacket's phone started to ring, and Jacket calmly walked towards the machine. He let the answering machine get the message for him. Jacket decrypted these messages since the first one, around the bullshit they give off, they gave Jacket an address and a mission. Oh course, since they've been watching Jacket, they made him part of the operators.  Not like he's ever going to know what that is.




2:00
Jacket made his stop, it was slowly approaching the afternoon. Jacket recognized this street, this house from the news. Jacket turned his Delorean off, taking the keys from the keyhole. Jacket's refined taste in these vehicles contradicts his living situations, he gets his taste in these classy cars from seeing Rarity far too many times. Jacket's apparel gets messed up sometimes, and there's only a select few who Jacket could take advantage of, generosity wise, with tailoring his clothes.

Besides, Rarity's a "friend". If you could call one sided conversations a friendly chat, Rarity is among the ponies who Jacket tolerates being around. She's tactful, interesting, and, of course, her generosity. Sometimes he made a trip to Ponyville, sometimes he mails his jacket to her. They exchange letters occasionally, nothing more than a quick hello or your jacket is ready.

Jacket knew this street he read about it in the papers and saw it on the news earlier, it was that Movie producer's house. Apparently, a alleged kidnapping case involving him and multiple mares in which he allegedly raped and had his henchmen rape the kidnapped mares while he filmed it. Jacket's grip on the steering wheel became tighter, those fillies didn't deserve to be in that position. They done nothing to that movie producer.

Jacket's door opened, but he didn't step outside just yet. Jacket looked to his side and grabbed his tiger mask, Tony. He breathed in the last of his fears, and he slipped the mask on. Jacket stepped outside of his vehicle and shut the door, his ears roaring with blood. Jacket felt his nervousness disappear as he approached the mansion, he popped his neck and stretched out his legs. He tightened his letterman jacket, and peered in through the keyhole of the mansion.

Of course, there was loud music blaring. They wouldn't hear him bucking the door in, perfect. Jacket turned on his hooves, and then, his body was voided of all emotion. All there was in his chest and brain was a will to survive, and Jacket will do just that. Jacket bucked in the door with his hindlegs, the door swinging wide open. There was an enemy up ahead, and Jacket wasted no time rushing him. Jacket wrapped his forelegs around the body of the guard and lifted them both to their hind legs. Jacket lifted the guard and did a German Suplex, making the guard land on his neck with a painful SNAP.

Jacket approached his body and saddled him, grabbing each side of his jaw and bashing his skull into the wooden floor. The head cracked open and blood pooled effortlessly around his head, Jacket dismounted him. Jacket was sure the suplex killed him already, but it's better be safe than catch a leadpipe to the back of the head. Speaking of pipes, Jacket grabbed the pipe. Jacket leaned against the wall and peered to the side of it.

There was an armed guard, holding what looked like a double barrel shotgun. That would disembowel Jacket if he got too close, there most be another way. Jacket looked to the right to find a door, and hopefully another direction. Jacket combat rolled to the other side of the room, taking measures to not be seen by the pony with the shot gun. Jacket leaned against the door and looked through the keyhole. Two ponies. One patroling in circles, one slacking off by the door, smoking what seems to be marijuana. Jacket backed away from the door and smashed himself into it, opening the door and bashing it against the smoking pony.

The other guard had a machete, and swung it in sheer panic. Jacket managed to avoid the swing, by clashing it with his lead pipe. The white suited pony was stronger than Jacket, as the blade knocked the pipe across the room. Jacket snorted, dust coming out of Tony's nostrils. Jacket was on his hindlegs he leaned back from another horizontal swing, and Jacket grabbed the foreleg of the white suited pony and twisted it painfully. The pony let out a inaudiable shriek of pain, dropping the machete. 

Jacket bashed his hoof into the side of the pony, brain matter flying across the walls and staining the window. Jacket looked out of the corner of his eye to find the pony he knocked down earlier. The pony was sitting up with a pistol aimed right for him. Jacket grabbed the deceased body of the other thug and shoved it at the stoned pony. Jacket grabbed the machete and approached the struggling stallion. Jacket straddled him, holding the forearm with the gun on it down. Jacket raised the machete in the arm and made viscous hacks at the hoof, taking three to completely amputate the stoned pony.

The stallion screamed, but it fell short with the techno music being blared out. Jacket then held the mane of the stallion and pulled up, Jacket hacked away at the stallion's neck until his head was completely decapitated. Jacket dropped the machete and picked up the firearm, checking the amount of bullets in the clip. Jacket pulled the slide back and approached the next door and looked through the keyhole, two more ponies. These ponies were armed. One was sitting on the couch, fiddling around with the Kobra that he held in his hooves.

Jacket peered at the other stallion, and he was watching the door. His firearm was a M116, the assault rifle. Both of these guns would tear right through Jacket like a warm knife through butter. Jacket's brain was quickly formulating a plan, but every scenario he ended up getting shot to ribbons. Jacket slowly opened the door and popped a couple of bullets out, not really aiming and more or less falling back to avoid being shot. Jacket saw that he shot the gun on the couch in the chest, but the bullets completely whizzed by the other pony.  Jacket withdrew from the room, to his prior position.

Jacket peered around the corner to see two ponies with melee weapons charging him, one carrying a fireaxe, another holding a chain whip.  Jacket reared around the corner and popped three rounds into the both of them, running out of ammo. Both thugs go down, but the pony with the double barrel was approaching. Jacket ran back into the room, picked up the machete, and threw it at the Pony holding the M116. Jacket pounced on the down pony, smashing his snout into the ground in a bloody mess. Jacket saw the alternative door and bashed it open, startling the shotgunner, and Jacket popped him with four bullet rattling through his skull.

Jacket didn't want the shotgun, but intstead wanted to keep the assault rifle. Jacket opened the last door and riddled the room with bullets. After tossing the empty weapon, Jacket made his way upstairs. Where his massacre continued.



Jacket's jacket was cleaner than normal, maybe it was the cleaner executions while Jacket wore the Tony mask? Jacket didn't care, he walked down the stairs with a baseball bat still dripping with blood and grey matter. Jacket dropped the bat and made his way to the car, when all of a sudden: the music stopped. Jacket raced out side the room and picked up the shotgun afraid that whatever comes out of that room is more than he can take.

Jacket pulled the first trigger when the doors opened, seeing a fat Diamond Dog with a bullet proof vest on. Jacket approached him, going for the kill when the Dog grabbed him by the throat and stood back up. The Diamond Dog lifted Jacket up in a fire man's carry and tossed him down the hallway, crashing into the wall with a painful thud. Jacket heard his ears ringing, his breathing quickened as he had no way of expressing his pain. Jacket stood back up, his side aching. Jacket lifted the gun again and shot the Dog once more, flattening him. The Diamond Dog lifted his front left paw, tears falling down his face, knowing he's defeated and out of strength.

"W-wait! S-stop! You win!" The Diamond Dog pleaded, trying to scoot away. "You want money? Drugs? Mares?! I ca-can and willing get you anything your heart desires! J-just let me go!"

Jacket straddled him, bashing his hooves in Diamond Dog's cheeks, nose, side of the head, anywhere that he could punch. Jacket then inserted both tips of his hooves into the big dog's eyes and pressed in deeply, blood seeping from the socket as the colt's scream finally caught in his lungs were short lived as Jacket grabbed the baseball bat and mounted him again. Viciously bashing the Diamond Dog's face inwards and when the bat broke, Jacket jabbed the splintered off bat into the mushed brains of the deceased Dog and twisted it furiously. Jacket stepped back his hooves gripping at Tony's ears in a silent yet heartfelt sob.

Jacket tore off his mask, tears running down his face. His body convulsed, the emotions that damned him back quicker than before. Jacket looked around at what Ton- he did. Jacket leaned against the wall, gagging and retching. Once Jacket has finally calmed down, he looked up to notice a camera. Jacket's breath caught in his throat. He cannot be caught. They would kill him if he was ever to be caught. Jacket rushed into the hidden room, kicking over the table and chairs.

Jacket furiously typed into the computer, as slow and as shitty as it was, Jacket quickly wiped all the camera's feed. Jacket looked behind him to find a chained up mare....wait... not just any chained up mare... Jacket remembered her when he was getting his jacket tailored, she came in the boutique. She had a chat with Rarity in a extremely hushed voice, and she was the Element of Kindness if Jacket remembered correctly. So this mare was their next victim?  Jacket looked over her, examined her. She was just recently tied up, and drugged. As given by her droopy eyes and no bruises.

Good thing Jacket came in and stopped it, otherwise she would be scarred for life. Or even worse, murdered. Jacket's guilt became very lighter when he realized he killed a serial rapist and his goons. Jacket looked at her again, she was so vulnerable. She was tied up, and legs spread She could be taken advantage of if she remained her. Yes, Jacket was a monster, but he was a monster that had moral standings. Jacket simply can't leave her here.

So he didn't.

He picked her up, cradling her bridal style, and walked back to the Delorean. Shifting her into the passenger seat, he made his way into the driver seat and drove off.