Fight Club

by xTSGx


Midnight vs. Night

For copyright/disclaimer information, see the prologue.

 

Chapter Three: Midnight vs Night

“Another warehouse. Are you kidding me, Bill?” Perhaps, if she voiced her incredulousness loud enough, he'd be able to hear her from across town. What was it with this fighting league and warehouses? Bill must have an obsession with the things. There was no other reason he'd schedule so many fights in them. For an outsider, it would seem like Hollow Shades was nothing but a series of Night Guard warehouses.
 
Midnight walked through the shipping entrance and into the cavernous space. Pallets of all sorts, some with ominous “CLASSIFIED” and “EYES ONLY” marked on them, were piled on the many shelves that lined the building. If she didn't know any better, she'd say the Benefactors ran the Night Guard with how often they used their facilities.
 
She looked down at the instructions Bill had given her, “Figures I walked in the opposite side,” she muttered as she started her trek through the aisles. Hopefully this was one of the smaller warehouses. It would certainly be disastrous for her to get worn out before the fight even began. She only hoped this Night Terror pony wasn't as agile or well trained as Sky Fighter had been.
 
What kind of a name was Night Terror, anyway? Midnight Dream was pretty standard. A dream occurring in the middle of night. But why name your kid after a horrible experience ponies have? It made Midnight wonder whether names like Double Murder or Malignant Cancer were common. It's like Night Terror's parents wanted a villain or something.
 
She shouldn't judge. Her parents nearly named her Umbra, after all. It's not as though Night Terror had any choice in the matter. She was probably a good pony. Just had parents who weren't the best with names. Midnight adjusted her duffle bag to the other shoulder to relieve the discomfort that had built up. She checked the instructions once more and looked ahead of her. She smiled. There it was.
 
Near the warehouse's office was an area that had been cleared of most of the crates, shelves, and pallets. Leaning up against one of the crates still in the area was a dark blue bat pony. Midnight scrunched her muzzle up. She couldn't get a really fat opponent for once? It had to be another physically fit spry pony.
 
As she approached, she could make out the mare a little better. Her initial impression had been fairly accurate. The mare had a similar muscular build to Midnight's own. Though she appeared to be a little skinnier. That meant she'd likely be fairly agile. Great. It was going to be a fast paced sort of thing full of dodging. Her muscles already hated her for what she had put them through and that hatred would likely only increase.
 
The mare also sported a blue mane and tail with several white stripes running through them. Midnight would be forever grateful that her mane and tail were a solid light purple. No need to constantly dye the stripes of hair the right colors. The maintenance on those types of manes and tails was probably insane—not to mention the cost. Dyes aren't cheap.
 
Night Terror turned and stared at Midnight as she approached. No, really. She stared, seemingly eyeing every muscle of Midnight's athletic body as it flexed and moved. This was really uncomfortable. A quick glace or even a stare at her face was fine, but she was half certain Night Terror intended to grope her the second she came within range. Talk about a bad first impression. Maybe some conversation would improve things.
 
“So, eh, Night Terror is it?” the mare nodded, “That's a strange name, isn't it?” Okay, small talk was never her thing. She had to get cut some slack. She spent most of her days talking to tomato plants and apple trees, after all.
 
The mare just wouldn't stop staring. She shrugged, “Perhaps, but I love it. It's so intimidating. So powerful. It's perfect.”
 
“That's good,” Midnight sat her duffle bag down near one of the crates, “So, Bill set up this with you too?” She reached in and pulled out a water bottle.
 
“Oh, yes. That arrogant stallion just had to set it up in another warehouse.”
 
Midnight's face brightened as she finished slugging down the last of her water--gotta stay hydrated during these fights. At least they agreed on something, “I know. I was hoping he'd mix things up, but no, just another set of crates and boxes. So much for the fighting league's 'diversity,'” She tossed the bottle back into the bag and turned back to face the dark blue pony.
 
She was met with Night ogling every inch of her light gray body, scanning each muscle and tuft of fur. Midnight fidgeted under the gaze. There was that discomfort again. Even more so when she saw the blue bat pony's wings twitch excitedly. She shrunk back slightly at Night's gaze, “Uh, I don't mean to be rude, but why are taking such an... interest in my body?”
 
Night smiled and looked up, “Oh. I was just wondering when those Benefactors would finally send me a nice plump, juicy mare.” She shook her head in satisfaction, “You've surpassed my expectations.”
 
What. “E-Excuse me?” If this fight were centered on awkwardness, Night would have knocked Midnight out cold.
 
Night licked her fangs as she once more eyed the muscular mare, “I'm just saying you'll make a very attractive meal.”
 
Midnight stared, “...Excuse me?” It sounded like she intended to use her fangs for their somewhat obvious purpose. It wasn't really obvious, though. Carefully crafted Night Guard PR and faded memories had made sure that “vamponies” were purely fiction and bat pony fangs were merely useless leftovers from the days of fruit foraging.
 
They could be used for fruit—as those raisin-like apple husks currently sitting in Midnight's compost pile could attest to—but blood had always been their true purpose. She had never personally engaged in the practice. She'd heard that there was no feeling quite like blood sucking. The more nationalistic—or speciesistic, or whatever you want to call it—within Hollow Shades even proclaimed it a bat pony's only natural and correct means of sustenance.
 
She just didn't see the appeal. It was very expensive if you didn't have a willing partner—blood banks didn't exactly just give away their supplies—and the idea just didn't sit well with her. Drinking blood. Blood. Not tomato juice, or red punch. Actual thick, sticky, warm blood. She suppressed a shudder. The nationalists could give her as many pamphlets and Nightmare Moon posters as they wanted. She'd stick with tomato juice.
 
There was also the social impact. The Night Guard heavily frowned on blood sucking. And whatever the Night Guard did, Hollow Shades and its populace would follow. They spent close to a century trying to get everypony to forget about their role in the whole “eternal night” thing. All vampirism would do is cause ponies to dust off their history books and fear just what bat ponies were capable of. Midnight got enough stares when she went to Canterot for jury duty as it was—she didn't need even more.
 
Midnight was snapped from her mental wanderings by the horrifying sound of Night Terror's spine snapping in two and the mare flopping limply to the ground—or at least, that's the picture she visualized when she heard Night cracking her back and popping her joints. Looking thoroughly relieved, the mare turned her attention to Midnight, “So, how do you want to do this? I can make it quick and easy, or you can struggle and thrash desperately,” she smiled, “Personally, I prefer the desperate thrashing. The sweat, the fear, the panic. The way your delicious muscles will tense up before relaxing in acceptance of their fate. It's just so much more—” she inhaled deeply and shuddered, “—invigorating.”
 
You know, maybe Night Terror's parents really did know something was up with their daughter when they named her, “Right. How about we get this thing started? Less creepy talking and more hopefully not-as-creepy fighting. I don't know about you, but I want to get out of here before Princess Luna lowers the moon.”
 
Night chuckled, “Right to the punch, I see. Very well. If you want to lose so quickly, I'm more than happy to oblige.” In an instant, the dark blue mare disappeared in a blur.
 
Midnight braced herself. At least Night Terror wasn't trying to strafe her. She didn't really know what she expected the bat pony to do but crash headlong into her was definitely not it, “Oof!” The two entangled ponies slide a few feet on the concrete floor before they bumped into a stack of cardboard boxes.
 
Midnight dizzily looked up to see Night untangling herself and standing up triumphantly, “You see? Over as quick as that. Now why don't you let me see that pretty gray neck of yours so I ca—” The base of the tower of cardboard boxes, having been severely compromised, buckled and the whole thing collapsed down like a tomato plant laden with tomatoes without its stake.
 
The boxes weren't empty, but were filled with all sorts of things. Some heavier than others. Midnight was just able to roll out of the way of a large box filled with metal bricks before it could squash her into a floor mat. Why on Luna's green earth the Night Guard would have a box filled with metal ingots stacked precariously like that was beyond her.
 
As the stack of boxes collapsed into a pile, the two ponies regrouped on opposite sides of the pile. Midnight breathed a sigh of relief and dusted herself off. That was close. Not only had Night nearly gotten her, but the Night Guard's slack safety standards had nearly given Night the win anyway. She needed to be more careful and watch what her opponent was—“Ack!” Night swooped over the pile of boxes and tackled Midnight.
 
The two rolled around. Midnight punched Night in the ribs, she retaliated with a punch to the face. Several exchanges later and Night looked down at her pinned opponent with a grin, “You're certainly a feisty one. I'll give you that.”
 
While Night had successfully pinned down Midnight's forelegs, her hindlegs were left unguarded. For somepony with such confidence, she sure did lack skill, “And you're really bad at pinning,” Midnight kicked Night's soft, tender underbelly several times with one of her hindlegs, “I'll give you that.”
 
Night groaned and stumbled off Midnight. She coughed several times, “T-That was rough. I like a little bit of fight, but this is growing tiresome.”
 
Midnight stood up and faced the dark blue mare. She could feel the bruises on her cheek and chest starting to form from the punches. Nothing a little ice wouldn't fix when this was over, “I agree. You could always yield?” She'd been practicing that particular grin for quite sometime. All the way back to when she was a foal, just waiting for the little brother she could use it on. She'd have to settle for a frustrated Night Terror.
 
The bat pony growled, “Enough of this.” With one hard flap of her leathery wings, she soared up into the rafters.
 
“Not more strafing,” Midnight moaned. She looked around at the boxes and crates. Where was a shield when you needed one? Nothing stood out and she had to focus on the hovering gray pony so she couldn't investigate the crates in more detail to determine their contents. She made a mental note to memorize the contents of the next warehouse just to prevent this sort of thing from happening again. And given Bill's obsession, she was almost certain there'd be another warehouse.
 
“Oh no. You don't have to worry about any strafing,” Midnight squinted as she looked up. What was Night doing, and why was she so close to the large light that hung from the ra—with one swift buck, Night shattered the light fixture, sending a shower of sparks and broken glass to the floor below. That area of the warehouse dimmed from the lack of light, “You have to worry about a much more primal fear,” Night flew over to another light and kicked it out too, “The fear of the dark.”
 
Sh-She did know that they were both bat ponies, right? As in, nocturnally inclined? As in, having the best night vision of any sapient species? If she didn't know any better, she'd think this was something Night Terror had been practicing for when she fought a pegasus or unicorn or something—right down to the “fear of the dark” line. It reeked like it was scripted.
 
A minute later, and nearly half the warehouse was shrouded in darkness. Only the bright red exit signs cast faint red glows that lit up small areas, “I know what you're thinking,” Night's voice echoed from the darkness above, “We're both bat ponies. What advantage does darkness give you?” Midnight's night vision had finally warmed up and she could clearly see Night hovering near one of the broken lights, “The truth is—” she suddenly disappeared from next to the light, “—quite a lot.”
 
Midnight inadvertently shot a few yards into the air. Night was standing right next to her. She composed herself for a second before gasping, “Oh no. Don't tell me—”
 
Night Terror beamed at her, “What? You mean you don't know umbric teleportation? That's a shame.” That damn shadow teleportation thing. One of the really cool Night Guard techniques, it allowed its user to use shadows of a certain darkness as ad hoc portals. Walk into one shadow and out another. Really cool as both a recruitment tool and an intelligence one. No need for listening devices or wiretaps. Any shadow of sufficient size and darkness could be used to spy.
 
Any shadow. Midnight looked around. Half the warehouse was shrouded in darkness. Darkness. The absence of light. Which is what a shadow was, “Oh,” Night stared at her smugly as she realized just what that meant. This fight just got much more complicated.
 
“Let's try this again,” Night ran at her full speed. She braced herself and readied to jump out of the way of the speeding mare only for Night to suddenly disappear in front of her.
 
“What the—erk!” Night slammed into her flank and the two tumbled to the ground, once again skidding several yards across the pavement and into a few boxes. This was starting to get repetitive. At least these boxes were empty. The last thing she needed was another ton of metal bars trying to flatten her out.
 
“Oh, and did I mention that inertia isn't affected by umbric teleportation?” Night chuckled as she kicked off a few of the boxes and stood up, “You really should just give up now. All you're doing is using up all that wonderful energy you could be giving me. What do you say?”
 
“Bite me.”
 
“If you insist. I'm never one to pass up an open invitation,” Midnight stumbled back several feet over a few of the boxes as the dark blue mare lunged at her, mouth open and fangs bared. Okay, so she hadn't really thought about that retort. Probably wasn't the best thing to say to a vampiristic bat pony. She kicked a large box at the pony and steadied herself before she ran toward one of the nearby aisles. Best to regroup and—
 
Night's blurry form appeared in front of her with a hiss, causing her to skid to a halt, “How bout we end this fight now? This is—baugh!” Midnight punched her in the face. She really should have done that the last time the mare started monolouging. Night stumbled back, clenching her stinging muzzle, “You little bi—hurrh!” Midnight kicked her in the stomach while her forelegs were busy protecting her face.
 
If only she could get a knockout punch, she might be able to have her first normal win. No steamrollers or mallets required. Her next punch was deflected by a foreleg raised in defense. That knockout would be harder to get than she hoped. She tried another punch only for her hoof to be caught by Night, who smirked, “As I was saying. I think it's time to wrap this up.”
 
In one quick motion, Night yanked Midnight and flipped her end over end over her head. Pavement feels simply fabulous—especially when you land on it back first, “Ow,” Midnight rubbed the back of her head. Head on pavement also feels great, but a concussion feels even better. She really hoped it wasn't a concussion. Have you seen how much unicorn doctors charge for magical resonance imaging?
 
Midnight wearily rolled off her back and sat up. Her back was tensing up and sore, and a headache was forming. She just couldn't catch a break. Every one for these fights had to be painful and exhausting. Where was the easy KO? Maybe if she stopped running and became more aggressive, she'd have quicker success. Then again, all of her opponents so far had been aggressive and that hadn't ended so well for them. Running and—
 
“Huack!” Night slammed into her and latched onto her back. Right. Less thinking, more fighting. She stumbled to her hooves, the dark blue mare now firmly attached to her back, “What have you been eating, Night Terror? You weigh a ton.”
 
“Well, I'm about to partake in a lovely meal. She's feisty, and thanks to all this pointless fighting she's put herself through, has made herself nice and tender,” Night licked her lips as she eyed Midnight's neck for the best possible location to bite down on. The best spot was right on one of the veins or arteries, but this mare just had to make things difficult. She'd have to reach around to get to those juicy blood vessels. It would be well worth the effort.
 
Midnight bucked in an attempt to dislodge the pony. Night's grip only tightened in response. Panic started to swell up inside Midnight. She'd taken some self defense classes to guard against any crazy nationalists, but she never thought she'd have to use them, “J-Just wait and think about this for a minute, Night.”
 
Night's low chuckle sent shivers down Midnight's spine, “Ah, there it is. The panic. The fear. That desperate quiver in your voice. That's what I like to hear. It makes these feedings so much more enjoyable. Now, it's time to eat.”
 
Midnight bucked again desperately, but the evil pony still refused to budge, “Y-You can't, Night. Do you really think the fighting league's going to pay you? You know what the opinion is on vampirism. They won't even sell the recordings to this fight if you do this. The Night Guard will lock it away and throw away the key. You won't see a single bit.”
 
Night laughed, “You think this is about those petty bits? I'm after what really counts. Power. The more ponies I defeat and drain, the more powerful I become. After a few dozen drainings, I should be able to take on one of the weaker alicorns—maybe the one with the heart butt,” Night smiled sadistically, “Then the real fun will begin.” She looked back down at her meal, “So you see, you're just the first, very small step toward my true goals. Bon apatite.”
 
Night plunged her fangs down toward Midnight's exposed neck. At the last second, Midnight jerked her head to the side and Night bit into the back of her neck as opposed to her jugular. Night just smiled as a small trickle of blood oozed down Midnight's neck, “You know as well as I do that it doesn't matter where a bat pony bits down. Your essence flows regardless.”
 
The pain in Midnight's neck was quickly replaced by a calming numbness as Night's enzymes were injected into the wound. She began to suck out Midnight's blood and life essence. Midnight stumbled down onto her knees at the combination of Night's weight and at the sudden loss of energy. She had to think of something quick or she was going to be sucked dry, reduced to nothing more than a paper cutout of a bat pony.
 
That wasn't so bad, was it? She'd be able to relax and not have to worry about bills or bits or anything. She could just stay warm and cozy and not try to fight back because fighting back would prevent her from enjoying herself and taking some well deserved time off. The calming numbness that was radiating from her neck only encouraged Midnight to lay down and relax.
 
Midnight crumpled to the ground, her eyes barely staying open. Night chuckled. Bat pony enzymes were tailored to bring down any victim. From manticore to alicorn to another bat pony. Nobody could stop it and nobody could stop her. Once Midnight was a nice flat rug, she'd set her sights on the next fight. And once the fighting league was of no use to her, she'd remove those Benefactors and claim her real prize. It was just so easy. Once she was in charge she might even turn Midnight into a cushion on her throne as thanks for helping her.
 
Wait! Now wasn't the time to relax. Now was the time to do the exact opposite. Midnight's mind flashed back to the free self defense courses she had taken moons prior and smiled weakly as the lessons came flashing back to her. It was the whole reason she had jerked her neck to the side, after all. She blinked a couple times to try and ward off the sleepiness and bit her lip hard to induce some pain and adrenaline. Too engrossed in her power fantasies and cushion preferences, Night failed to notice the weakened and slowly deflating mare stir from her drowsiness.
 
Suddenly, Midnight used all of her remaining strength to jerk upward, stunning the evil mare on her back as she was suddenly knocked upward and nearly dislodged from off Midnight. Then, Midnight tightly squeezed her shoulders and neck muscles. Just as she had hoped, she felt her energy and liquids return back into her from the wound on her neck.
 
Now recovered from the sudden resistance, Night readjusted her position on Midnight's back and felt a sensation that nearly froze her. She felt all the power and blood she had just sucked out of Midnight flow right out of her and back into the rebellious mare. Even worse, she could feel some of her own energy starting to slip out as it was caught up as well. She looked in increasing panic at the mare beneath her, “W-Wait, what are you doing?!”
 
Midnight glanced back at her and smirked, “It's a little trick I learned from a self defense class I took at the rec center. If you happen to pinch your shoulder and neck muscles just so, you can actually reverse the effect of a blood sucking. It only works if you're bitten in the back of the neck, though.”
 
Night looked down at Midnight's tensed neck in horror as she felt her essence and blood flowing out of her body through her very own fangs, “No! Y-you can't. Please.” Starting to panic, she tired to pull her fangs out of Midnight's neck but they wouldn't budge. She was trapped.
 
“Why should I? You were going to drain me dry before trying to take over Equestria. Besides,” Midnight mimicked Night's low chuckle, “I've never had a cape before and I am rather fond of the color blue.”
 
Night's eyes widened in panic as she realized the gray mare's intentions, “No, no, stop!” She laughed nervously, “I-I was just joking about all that stuff. You—You know? Getting pumped for the fight. That sort of thing. I w-wasn't really serious.”
 
Midnight winced in pain at Night's efforts to remove her fangs, “I'm sure.” The fangs, however, remained firmly sunk into her neck. She could feel the sheer raw energy that was now flowing into her. She began to involuntarily salivate as her body tried to keep the nonexistent wound open for her to continue feeding. Night's struggles weakened as her energy left her and her body started deflating.
 
It was a most unusual sensation for Midnight, although certainly not unpleasant. Unconsensual vampirism was obviously illegal and even its consensual counterpart was considered one of the biggest taboos out there. Midnight had never actually used her fangs for anything more than sucking the juice from apples and scaring foals on Nightmare Night.
 
This was a whole 'nother experience. Her heart was pounding much faster than it had previously—and she had been losing blood previously, “I-I'm s-sorry, okay! I've learned my lesson. Y-You can stop. Please.” Was Night saying something? She couldn't really tell. The warmth that was flowing through her was just too distracting. A warmth she knew had previously belonged to Night.
 
She shuddered. This. This was something else, “You gotta stop!” Her pupils dilated. Those nationalists were making more and more sense. This really did blow away sucking watermelons dry. She breathed deeply to savor the energy she was getting from the rapidly deflating mare on her back. She better savor it. It's not like she was going to do vampirism again. At least not until she got her finances in order and could afford the blood bags.
 
All the while, Night's struggles became weaker and weaker and more and more desperate. She had stopped trying to pull her fangs free and now punched Midnight in an effort to force her to free her, “I-I'm gonna get out of this! Y-You'll see,” Night looked at one of her dark blue forelegs in alarm as it, now flat as a piece of cardboard, crumpled against Midnight's purple mane with each punch, “Y-You're going to pay for this.” Seeing her efforts were futile, Night attempted to kick Midnight's rump with her hind legs, only to discover they too were as thin and useless as her forelegs.
 
Night suddenly felt very weak. Her struggles slowed to a stop as her muscular build gently thinned out. Her shoulders sagged down while her belly and chest flattened down against Midnight's back. She rested her head against the back of Midnight's neck. Maybe she should just throw in the towel and accept defeat?
 
“No! No, no, no, no, no, no, no, nouuuuhhhhhhhhh,” Night's body finally gave in and she relaxed her muscles, resigning herself to her fate, “A-At least y-you're kind of hot,” she mumbled—being stuck on the back of an attractive mare wasn't the worst possible fate out there—before her flat body gently fluttered down and settled onto Midnight's muscular back. Her hind legs rested gently on Midnight's rump while her forelegs flapped like two dark blue ribbons off either side of Midnight's shoulders.
 
Midnight shuddered in ecstasy as the last of Night's energy and blood entered her. The mare had been fully drained and was now a nice, soft cape. She wasn't quite sure what to make of that last comment Night had made. She'd never paid much attention to what others thought of her body, why should she now? Well, the whole 'mare bent on conquering the country' thing would be a good one. And the fact that that mare now rested on her back and was now closer than almost any pony short of her immediate family had ever been.
 
She shrugged. It wasn't as though Night would be with her for very long—let alone in any intimate capacity. Unintentionally, the subject of intimacy caused her mind to to flash to images of Night being used as her towel. Her soft, dark blue fur would probably make for a very soothing towel after a hot show—Midnight shook her head to clear the images. Damn intrusive thoughts. They were still considered intrusive even if they weren't necessarily unpleasant, right?
 
Night blinked her glazed over eyes several times and looked around as she realized the flat fate Midnight had bestowed on her, “Mmmmuuhhhhhh.”
 
Midnight was snapped from her thoughts by the groan from the pancaked pony. She looked over her shoulder at the mare and smiled. So much for power. Night stared up at her with wide, pleading eyes, as if begging her to release the flat bat pony. Her fangs was still firmly attached to Midnight's neck, despite Midnight having relaxed her neck muscles. Maybe it would be best to remove her.
 
With the rush of draining Night now past, a dull throb had started emanating from the wound. Plus, it posed a risk. What if Night somehow was able to regain her energy? She could get revenge and suck Midnight dry before she knew what had happened. Who knows what Night would do to her once she was flattened out. She should turn her in right now and get the bits before Night figures out a way to turn the tables on her.
 
Midnight looked above the warehouse office's door at the clock. One thirty?! There was no way the fighting league was open at this hour. Night would have to spend the night with her. The mare would make for really comfortable bedding. Her warm fur would just be perfect and her muscular body would provide for some really nice padding.
 
She shook her head. There were those intrusive thoughts again. She walked over one of the crates and grabbed her duffle bag off it. Midnight slung the bag over her back and made her way out of the dimly lit warehouse. Night let out a moan as the heavy duffle bag pressed her firmly against Midnight's back. It was going to be a long walk.
 

-----

 
“Where in Tartarus is that Luna forsaken key?!” It was two in the morning, her neck was killing her, there was an ad for finishing basements taped to her front door, and based on the moonlight, it appeared one of her azalea bushes was getting a nasty petal blight. Midnight fumbled with the keyring and tried another key. She sighed in relief as the door unlocked. She tore off the basement ad and walked into her small cottage.
 
She thanked Luna that she was a bat pony. That night vision was an alicornsend. If only it allowed her to tell the difference between three identical keys. She tossed her keychain onto the small table next to her front door and slide the duffle bag onto the floor. She winced slightly as she moved to set the ad down on the table. Not due to Night's fangs in her neck or her aching ankles from the two mile walk back from the warehouse, but due to the pile of mail that was sitting next to the keychain. What new bills awaited her? Hopefully that topsoil payment hadn't come due yet.
 
She bit her lip. She could—and really should—wait until tomorrow to look over the stack of mail. It would only cause fretting overnight if she looked at it right then. But what if that topsoil payment was now due? Or the fertilizer? Or—she sighed. Now that she was thinking about it, she was going to fret regardless. She might as well sort through it now. Who knows? Maybe there weren't any bills due and she wouldn't have any fretting to do.
 
She picked up the stack and walked over to her kitchen table. After setting the mail down, she reached up and lit the lantern that hung from the ceiling. Bat pony night vision may be great, but even it couldn't stand to see small print in the dark. The lantern's flickering light cast a quaint glow on her kitchen. She glanced in worry at the oil chamber underneath the wick. How much more fuel did she have for the thing? That was another bill she could do without paying.
 
The kitchen chair squeaked as she slide it back. She sat her weary body down and leaned back in the chair. The Night fight hadn't been as bad as Speck, but she was still no professional fighter, “Mmmooohhhhh,” If there was one benefit, it was that Night made for excellent padding for the wooden chair.
 
Midnight smiled, “I know the feeling, Night.” After a few moments of comfort leaning against her new muscular cushion, Midnight sat forward and started sorting the mail. Junk. Junk. One of those “complimentary” issues of Sports Weekly they send to get you to subscribe. Junk. A letter from the Hollow Shades City Council about the ongoing investigation into the runoff from the military base. An invitation to her neighbor's kid's graduation—such a nice family they were. She was going off to Night Guard training that fall.
 
All that was left was the basement ad. She really had to wonder how often those fliers worked. How many ponies really took the ad at face value and got their basement finished? You'd think they'd shop around, get some estimates, maybe see if the contractors are reliable. Not go off of a piece of paper taped to their front door. She looked down at it.
 
Wait a minute. That wasn't an ad. It was a hoof—or it could be wing—written note. As she scanned through the fancy cursive she smiled. Her smile only grew wider and wider with each line. Unable to contain her joy, she leapt from the chair and nearly slammed into the lantern above her, “Oh, Bill! I take back everything I've ever said about you.”
 
She knew having a manager would pay off. Sure, she didn't really have a say in whether to get one or not, but she still knew it would pay off. He'd done it. He'd finally done something right. She'd be set. No more fights. No more warehouses. No more psychotic mares trying to flatten her. Just her and the bits she was about to rake in.
 
She sat back into her seat, eliciting another soft groan from her cape. Midnight smirked at the moan, “Oh, don't worry, Night. Everything's going to finally be fine,” She reached over and grabbed that free copy of Sports Weekly. She looked at the cover, which had a headline of Hoofball's New Commissioner. That headline was all wrong. It should read Midnight Dream's New Meal Ticket, “In fact, How's a trip to Manehattan sound?” Turning Night Terror in could wait. She had packing to do.
 

End of Chapter Three