//------------------------------// // Kaboom! // Story: Smile Wide // by AtrenGraves //------------------------------// In retrospect, combining large quantities of gasoline, and...what was it that that idiot had used? Styrofoam cups? That had been a great idea, actually... Oh, that was it. The bad idea had been...well, something involving the drums that the gas had come in. And an industrial fan. The whole 'plan' had always been a little...fuzzy...when it came to details. Fire, he had decided, was something best enjoyed 'in excess'...in moderation. “Heheh...ho-wow that, heheh...that smarts.” He sat up with a bit of effort, shaking his head wildly in an attempt to clear it. Of course, all that ended up doing was scramble his brains even more. And that wouldn't do at all... “I suppose I was a bit slow on the draw that time.” He jumped at the sound of another voice, and tried to scramble to his feet. Managed only to weave head-first into a hard surface and slump to the ground again. “A consequence of splitting one's attention.” The strange voice heaved a put-upon sigh. “You would think I'd learn, wouldn't you?” He descended into giggling fit, head spinning from what felt suspiciously like a concussion. “Who...heheh...where's the fun in that?” “Mmm, you may have a point, my unpredictable little friend.” A hum from the darkness. “It's a little late, of course, but that's neither here nor there.” “And just where is here, mmister mmysterious mmmmmm...” He trailed off, frowned, and attempted to sit up straight again. “You know...'m' words aren't the, ah...aren't the easiest to work with.” “No, I suppose they aren't. Though personally I must profess my utter dislike for 'e' words.” There was a pause, where the voice faded and he started feeling out his immediate surroundings. “Would you mind indulging my curiosity, for a brief moment?” A hard surface just there...it curved away, slightly, as he trailed his hands up. “I'm a little too fond of cats to feel...entirely comfortable with that.” A pause, for consideration, and he snorted. “But then again, I...uh...well, I'm not exactly going anywhere.” “Oh, that's where you're wrong.” The voice carried a chuckle, that time. “I hear tell...that you're a big supporter of chaos.” His eyes widened, slightly, in the darkness, and a grin split his expression. “Well, I'm not the sort to...brag...but I do have a particular pre-dis-position for, eh...well, chaos, in general.” “Which is exactly why I have a...well, let's call it a 'job opportunity', shall we?” The voice was practically a purr, then. “I need an agent...an artist.” Something moved, very nearby, and he turned to look toward it, squinting in an attempt to see through the inky blackness that surrounded him. “And it is an art.” The voice had shifted as well, and he was finally certain where the speaker was. “What you do. Quite a beautiful dissonance, exemplary even by human standards...” And if that wasn't a very strange choice of words... “I'm afraid I don't work on commission.” He cleared his throat, cracked his neck, and stood himself up, finally. Still a bit unsteady, but not terrible. “Buuut...if you'd like to leave a suggestion, we'll be sure to ge-het back...eheh...back to you...” Another bout of manic laughter caught him off guard, and he leaned against the rough, standing surface... A surface that shifted beneath his hand. “I'd like to tell you a little story.” “Oh, is it story time already!?” He laughed off the sudden movement, recovering his balance with a bit of wild flailing. “I do love a good ssstory.” “Well good.” The voice rose up, the ground shifting beneath him without warning and nearly tripping him up again. “Because this one has quite the lesson to be learned.” Mind games? Oh, but the voice was going to be disappointed. He choked down the mad laughter that threatened to bubble up yet again, adjusting his jacket with a jerky sort of shrug. “Do tell.” “Mmm.” The voice moved again, closer. “There was a man, who cast a bright light over his city. Who burned away the petty criminals, and brought corruption to light.” Something very large brushed against his shoulder, and he stiffened. Stilled. Whatever it was moved away quickly, but now he could hear it, the slightest raspy-rustle of...whatever it was. “But that man made enemies. And eventually, made a mistake...in the particular form of a home-made firebomb and an electrical short.” “Mm, I remember this part.” He ran a hand through his hair, combing it back thoughtfully. “Can we skip to the, ah...the punchline?” “Hmph...” The ground moved again, and this time he did stumble. “This man was burning all away. A truly...senseless end.” The voice circled him as it spoke, heaving another tired sigh near the end. “Fortunately, a passing...well, let's say 'fan'...was in a position to help.” A gust of hot, musty air blew his hair back into his face. And he frowned, silent. “And help he did! And in return, he asked just one little favor from the man. A pittance, really.” “Y'know, this is aaall starting to sound like a bad joke...” “Oh, come now! I haven't even gotten to the best part!” The voice gave a low, dangerous chuckle. “You see, all the fan wanted was for the man to continue his wonderful work! To spread his shining light on a new stage. No strings attached, debts squared away...it was such a generous offer, that the man accepted immediately. Without argument.” When the ground shifted beneath him again, he was ready. What he was not ready for was the moving walls that closed in around him as well. Or the laughing...breath that sent him into a coughing fit. “Now, I could drop you back in the middle of that particular little mess. And it would be a waste, a terrible waste of your talents. Your potential.” The voice was right above him, at that point, and he craned his neck to try and catch sight of anything. A pinprick of light...no, two of them...glimmered in the darkness. “On the other hand...I could save your life. And all I ask in return...is that you do exactly what you've been doing all...this...time.” “Uhh...what's option 'c'?” The lights sparked, something clicked, and he suddenly had a very unnerving impression of teeth. “I get an after-dinner snack before I go to sleep again.” He couldn't help the laughter that followed. Went ahead and indulged it, this time around, laughing until his sides hurt and his head swam. “And I'll take that...as a yes.” The world went white. Dust Mote yelped, as something very large crashed through the branches of his favorite tree to land in front of him. Twigs and leaves rained down, numerous animals that had been resting nearby scattering in surprise. The pegasus just stared, shock freezing his wings for that long moment. When the moment was over, he slumped, his previous good mood going up in smoke. The tree was ruined, the thready streams of light that normally filtered through its branches replaced by a steady blaze...he huffed, shook the debris from his gray coat. “Ow.” He jumped, wings flaring in surprise as his attention turned to the thing that had fallen. The thing that was alive. “Um...hello?” He took to his hooves, feathers ruffling as his wings folded back down. “Are...are you okay?” “Welll...I was just, heheh...blown up.” A soft chuckle was cut off by a weak cough, and Dust Mote watched as the strange creature rose from the ground, its body folding on itself in a manner that left him feeling distinctly uncomfortable. “And then kidnapped by some...giant...thing. Which I'll, ah...I must say, I wasn't expecting.” The pegasus blinked, twice, his ears laying back. “Is that a 'no'?” “Ha!” The thing barked out a laugh, turning to face him. “I'd th-” Silence fell again, and Dust Mote shifted uncertainly from side to side. Something was screaming at him to fly away, the strange creature's appearance not helping in the least. But...he never let weird things throw him off before. Helping other ponies was easy, and why should a strange...thing...be any different? “Um...do you need help?” He edged forward a bit, shrinking back when the thing leaned forward. “I could go and get a doctor. There's a clinic not far from here...” “I'm, uh...” The thing started to speak again, beady eyes narrowing. “I don't think that'll be...necessary.” Dust Mote scuffed a hoof as the creature moved again, absently noting the fact that the strange, mottled coat was actually clothing of some sort, the odd, pinkish color of bare skin that showed in the few places it didn't cover... “You seem distracted.” His eyes snapped back to the thing's face, the fevered eyes set in dark circles. And his feeling of unease became outright fear. “It's the scars, isn't it?” He backed up as the thing crawled forward, wings locking up as he hit the trunk of the tree. “...wanna know how I got'em?”