//------------------------------// // Anthem Of The Lonely // Story: The Ghost Of Me // by Bluecatcinema //------------------------------// After finishing their breakfast, Caboose and Fletcher departed the mess hall with Black. Fletcher took a moment to marvel at the sheer size of the headquarters. "I've never seen an installation this size before." He declared. "I have." Caboose admitted. "My family have these offshore holding installations, and they are huge. I can't tell you what's in them, though. Family secret." "Naturally." Fletcher rolled his eyes. As they rounded a corner, they reached a wall with pictures of ponies mounted on it. The picture each had gold plaques with names on them. "What's this?" Caboose asked. "A wall of fame?" "Not exactly." Black sighed. "This is the Wall of Remembrance. It's where we honor our fallen comrades." "Oh, I see..." Fletcher frowned. "Quite a few of them, aren't there?" Caboose sighed. "Yeah." Black nodded. "As you can tell by now, the Taskforce is by far one of the most dangerous line of work, maybe more so than the RDL. The foes we face are almost always the ones to never take prisoners. It would do you both good to try and not get yourselves on here too quick." Fletcher took note of one of the photos, reading the name. "Shadow Slinker." He said aloud. "Shadow?" Caboose asked, before lighting up. "Oh yeah... when I asked about him and Micro, your face went all gloomy... is this why? Shadow is..." "Dead? Yes." Black sighed. "Died right in front of me..." "Oh my word." Fletcher said, aghast. "That must have been awful for you." "You have no idea." Black frowned. "What happened?" Caboose asked. "I mean, not that you have to tell us. I know it'd be rough, and it might not even be in line with where your story is right now. Don't want to jump ahead..." "Well, as luck would have it, that actually is the next part of the story... and it's a doozy." Black grimaced. Many years ago... Deep within Infinity, Pike was talking with Scalphunter in a darkened lounge room. "...And there's still been no sign of Black?" He asked. "Not a one." Scalphunter admitted. "Great." Pike scowled. "Just terrific. Ouroboros have been on my back for months over this. They say if they don't get results soon, they will be forced to disciplinary actions. We need to keep trying. Find Black, no matter what it takes." "Yeah, like you haven't said that a thousand times already." Scalphunter snorted. "I'll say it a million times if I have to!" Pike yelled. "Don't forget, it's not just my hide on the line here. If anything happens to me, the Black Sheep will probably shoot itself dead in the face within the week!" "My, pretty presumptuous, aren't we?" Scalphunter glared. "You do know this group had existed under my command before you came along, right?" "Yeah, a group that had cost the Forefathers a lot of agents, money, and a bit of everything else." Pike growled. "If I recall, they were close to disbanding the divison before I came along. It was under my leadership that this branch survived as long as it did." "Only because you were a big suck-up to the bosses." Scalphunter snorted. "If being loyal means being a suck-up, then so be it." Pike declared. "Unlike you, I'm not just in this to blindly murder anypony I like. I'm here to do a job. To serve the Forefathers in their mission to make Equestria a better place." "Well, lah-dee-dah." Scalphunter scowled. "Look who thinks he's so much more noble and pure than the rest of us..." "Look, just do what you are told. Because Faust knows how well any of you will do when the Black Sheep has to fend for themselves." Pike growled. Pike marched away, still incensed. "Hmph, we'll see about that..." Scalphunter sneered. A short while later, Scalphunter stood before the other Black Sheep members, who were gathered around a table, DeRose, Sam, and Tabolt among them. "My fellow Black Sheep." Scalphunter announced. "I hate to say it, but it seems Pike is failing to fulfill his duty as our leader. Black Knight Paladin is still out there, and we are still no closer to bringing him down. And surely, as you all notice, Pike has been acting... erratically." "Well, can you blame him?" DeRose frowned. "He's not the only one who's under fire here. The Ouroboros have been treating us even worse than usual. At least before, they were a little civil to the more rational members such as myself. But ever since Black came into the picture, they treat us all like dirt on their hooves! Like we're nothing more than ill-behaved attack dogs. They'll probably throw us in kennels before long..." "Well, Pike hasn't been helping matters." Talbolt crossed his hooves. "These past years, it's like he's been changing. You noticed how he never goes on bounty hunts anymore? Heck, all he's been doing is trying to hunt down Black!" "Yeah, that so-called boss of yours has slowly but surely been going plum loco." Sam snarled. "And that's saying somethin', comin' from me!" "It's clear that we must take matters into our own hooves and try to kill Black ourselves." Scalphunter declared, "It's about time we bring out the big guns!" "Um, question. Who exactly is our 'big guns' now?" Talbolt asked. "Sweet Tooth died trying to ice that scum. And if he couldn't do it-" "Worry not, my friend." Scalphunter smirked. "Sweet Tooth, Faust bless his wretched damn soul, was a great agent... but you forget that we have us an even bigger gun at our disposal..." A large, shadowy wisp suddenly flowed into the room, slithering like a snake over the stone floor. "What in tarnation?!" Sam gaped. "By Faust..." DeRose gulped. The whisp stopped right in front of Scalphunter. It vanished, revealing a Unicorn in a dark jacket and a black mask. He wielded a sickle in one hoof, with a crossbow hanging off his waist. "...Holy crap... is that who I think it is?" Talbolt gasped. "Gentlecolts... you all remember Reaper, do you?" Scalphunter smirked. "Reaper?! As in the Bosteer Reaper?!" DeRose gaped. "When the hell did you get back into town?" "Oh, just recently." Reaper shrugged, his voice distorted. "I was in Whinneyapolis, partaking of some glorious bloodshed, when Scalphunter gave me a call and told me to come in." "Eesh, to this day, that freaky spell of yours still gives me the heebie jeebies!" Sam grimaced. "Thank you." Reaper smirked, as he held up a hoof, as it began to turn into a shadowy mist. "That means the spell is doing its job..." He turned to Scalphunter, "Now, what is it that you called me for, Scalphunter? You made it sound very important." "It is." Scalphunter smirked. "I assume you had heard about this stallion that has been giving us and the Forefathers the business?" "Ah, yes, this... Black Knight Paladin." Reaper nodded. "The Taskforce's newest and deadliest attack dog. The one that had brought about the demise of both Sweet Tooth and Mr. Dysley." "Yeah. That's why we brought you in." Scalphunter smirked. "While Sweet Tooth had a thousand kills under his belt, you are by far the most feared serial killer in all of Equestria. With your expertise, we think you might be the ticket to finally put an end to that son of a draft horse and redeem the Black Sheep division." "Well, you wouldn't be wrong." Reaper gave a small chuckle. "And with a challenging prey such as Black, I believe this will be the most fun I had in years..." "Preaching to the choir, Reaper." Scalphunter sneered in delight. "And if you happen to see one of his fellow lackies, feel free to kill them too." "As if you have to ask." Reaper smirked. "Hold on. Why exactly should he be the one to take out Black?" Talbolt growled, stepping forth. "Reaper has been doing nothing for the Black Sheep division for years, while we had been working our asses off trying to keep the Black Sheep division alive!" "It's simple. Reaper is one of the best killers I had the pleasure of knowing." Scalphunter declared. "If anypony can get the job done, it's him. That's a lot more than can be said for any of you dumbasses." "Hey, Black got the drop on me last time." Talbolt snarled. "I deserve another shot at him!" "And we don't?" DeRose growled. "Yeah, get offa yer high hippogriff!" Sam sneered. The other Black Sheep voiced their own amusement, sniggering and scoffing at Talbolt. "Why should you get to do it?" One arrogantly asked. "You forget that I possess a multitude of skills." Talbolt retored, pulling out a pencil. He stood up, and walked around the table. "As a self-trained illusionist, I know quite a few magic tricks." He placed the pencil sharp end up on the table, right in front of the neighsayer. "Wanna see me make this pencil disappear?" "Sure, why not?" The stallion sneered. "Okay..." Talbolt suddenly grabbed the stallion's head, and slammed it into the table, driving the pencil right into his head, killing him. "Holy horseapples on a manure sandwich!" Sam gaped, as the others (with the exception of Reaper) being taken aback by the brutality. "Ta-daa!" Talbolt smirked. "It's 'magic'... any objections?" "Nope." Sam cringed. "None here." DeRose added nervously. The other Black Sheep all mumbled in the negative. "Good." Talbolt grinned. "I believe that is proof enough that I deserve a 'true' chance to bring Black down." "Except it's not your choice to make." Scalphunter pointed out. "I've already got a stallion for the job." "But he may need back-up." Talbolt retorted. "We never thought to gave Sweet Tooth one, and look what happened to him. The last thing I think anypony wants is for us to lose yet another one of our big guns." "Oh yeah, like having you around is really gonna tip the balance." Scalphunter sneered. "Hold on, Scalphunter... I believe Talbolt makes an excellent point." Reaper suddenly declared. "What?!" Talbolt and Scalphunter said together. "Seriously, Reapy?" Scalphunter frowned. "You actually want this joker around?" "He might actually come in handy." Reaper admitted, "At the very least, I could always use a meat shield." "Hmph, mock me if you will, but don't you forget that out of all of us, I am one of the more competent members of this group." Talbolt scowled. "And don't you forget that I am in charge of this mission and that I will kill you without even blinking." Reaper snarled, closing in on Talbolt. "So watch your tongue. Got it?" "...Got it." Talbolt nodded, looking a bit disturbed by Reaper's glance. "So... do you have a plan of attack?" Scalphunter asked Reaper. "In fact, I do... and trust me, Black won't know what hit him..." Reaper declared. A couple of days, later, Elite called in the Taskforce. "My friends, we have a situation." He declared. "The RDL received a letter this morning from a retired detective by the name of Gumshoe Flathoof. For years, he had been working a single case: Bringing in the Reaper." "Who?" Black asked. "The Reaper is one of the most merciless killers in the world." Micro declared. "He preys on the fear of those he hunts. Armed with a sickle and a crossbow, and an unusual ability to shroud himself in black smoke and glide through the air, which prompts ponies to believe that he is not a regular pony, or even anything close to that." "Okay, I'm starting to see the problem here." Black snarked. "But a while back, he just put a stop to his investigations." Elite continued. "Why would he just stop?" Shadow asked. "It doesn't say." Elite shrugged. "But he wants to meet with some of us over in the town of Bridleburg. He apparantly has some information that may help us take Reaper in ourselves. Black, you and I are going together on this one." "Remember when I said I didn't need partners any more?" Black asked. "Oh, I remember." Elite nodded. "I just prefer to ignore that right now. We leave in ten." "Better drop it, mate." Ballista advised. "This is one fight you're not gonna win." "Reh-reh-reh-reh-reh." Titan chuckled. "Whatever." Black huffed. "Let's just get this over with." Before long, Black (wearing a cloak disguise) and Elite arrived in Bridleburg. "Okay, Gumshoe's home is right over here." Elite declared, leading Black to a small one-bedroom dwelling. "Okay, let's do this." Black knocked on the door. The door was answered by an old pony with a pale orange coat, a balding green mane, brown eyes, and a Cutie Mark of a black shoe. "Elite Everest." The stallion took note. "Glad you could come so quickly." "Well, you said you had information about the Reaper, Mr Flathoof." Elite declared. "So let's hear it." "Of course." Gumshoe nodded. "Come in, come in." The two of them followed Gumshoe into a dishevelled living room. "Who's your friend, by the way?" Gumshoe asked Elite. "That's classified." Elite answered. "All you need to know is that he is here to help." "Typical government conspiracies..." Gumshoe sighed. "Just tell us what you know about the Reaper." Black demanded, "The sooner you do, the sooner we can put an end to this." "I afraid it won't be that simple." Gumshoe growled. "You see, I came to learn quite a lot about this stallion known as the Reaper. He was responsible for the biggest murder spree this town has ever seen. I spent close to ten years trying to find him, but he always slipped away. And each time he did, he always left behind a note, taunting me... mocking me... condemning me for failing to stop him, that I let him kill all those ponies..." "Sounds like a real Prince." Black snorted. "I kept on trying, though." Gumshoe admitted. "Day after day, month after month, year after year. But I just couldn't do it." "Is that why you stopped looking?" Elite asked. "You just gave up?" "...Partially." Gumshoe lowered his head. "What does that mean?" Black asked. "Well, after another murder spree, the Reaper didn't leave behind a gloating note." Gumshoe declared. "It was something else. It told me that he had grown bored of our 'game'. That he wanted to take a break. The note said 'If you stop hunting me, I'll stop hunting them here.'..." "...You didn't..." Elite frowned. "You don't understand." Gumshoe sighed. "Me and the police were no closer to catching him than we were in all the years before. We had no leads, no evidence, nothing that could help us stop him. And he had already murdered about a hundred ponies..." "So you just gave up." Black growled. "I did what I had to to end the bloodshed." Gumshoe said defensively. "By making a deal with a psychotic murderer?!" Black spat. "He stays out of your town, and becomes everpony else's problem? Real nice, pal!" "What choice did I have?" Gumshoe faltered. "You could have chosen to do the right thing, and not play that whacko's game!" Black snarled. "You're nothing but a coward!" "That's enough." Elite told Black. "Now, Gumshoe. I'm sure you didn't invite us here just to confess your dirty secret." "No." Gumshoe nodded. "I wanted to warn you. I heard about your trouble with the 'Forefathers' from an old source of mine." "Did you, now?" Black frowned under his mask. "...Yes... and I fear that the Reaper... might have thrown himself in with those awful ponies." Gumshoe grimaced, "To my understanding, he is a part of the group known as the 'Black Sheep', a whole bunch of low-ranked but very dangerous individuals who do as they please, and bear the mark of a black ram's head." "So the Forefathers really do hire murdering scum." Black snorted. "Good to know." "Indeed." Elite nodded. "If we can somehow find these 'Black Sheep' and take them down, the Forefathers will begin to suffer a decline in valuable assets." He turned to Gumshoe. "Thank you for the information." "It's the least I could do... really." Gumshoe sighed. "Don't even think it begins to make up for what you did." Black snarled. "I don't." Gumshoe said defiantly. "In fact, if you ever run into Reaper, give him one from me." "I can guarantee it." Elite nodded. "Time to go." As they left, Black cast one last glare Gumshoe's way. Gumshoe looked away, distraught. One they returned to headquarters, Elite and Black shared the information with the others. "So the Forefathers really do recruit murdering psychopaths to be their attack dogs." Micro grimaced. "Nasty business." "So what now?" Armory asked. "Now we know Reaper is one of the Black Sheep, we must track him down and take him in." Elite declared. "If we can get him to talk, we could learn all about them." "Sounds good to me." Black smirked. "One thing's for sure, we won't mess up like Gumshoe did..." "That's the plan, at least." Elite nodded. "All ears to the ground, folks. If any of us hear of anything that even slightly sounds like Reaper's work, we're going to move in." With that, the Taskforce prepared fro an inevitable confrontation with Reaper. Black spent a lot of his time in the gym, beating up a practice dummy. "Somepony looks a little ticked off today." Shadow noted. "What's up?" "It's that Gumshoe guy." Black scowled. "He was a cop. He was supposed to protect ponies by bringing in crooks. But he let Reaper go. If you ask me, he's just as bad as that psycho." "Sometimes, ponies do things that they regret." Shadow declared. "...Still, you have to understand why he did it. He only wanted to stop the killings." "So he made a deal with the devil!" Black snarled. "He just gave up and let him go somewhere else to terrorize some other town!" "He was only thinking about his hometown and the ponies in it." Shadow frowned. "From what I heard, he was in a bad place. He had no hopes of finding him, and there was no telling how many more ponies were going to die if he didn't make the deal... it's an impossible choice." "Except it wasn't." Black glared. "He may have actually found a lead if he had only stuck with it? The point of being a detective, let alone any stallion of justice, is to not give up, even in the face of death! To even let that son of a draft horse win like that... it makes me... GRRAH!" Black then bucked the dummy, slamming it into the wall. "Unfortunately, not everpony possess that kind of fortitude." Shadow sighed. "And we don't always make the right decisions." "And sometimes, the wrong decision leads to ponies getting hurt." Black growled. "Lousy coward..." Shadow could tell Black's outrage couldn't be quelled so easily. But he needed to be at the top of his game for the inevitable confrontation with the Reaper. "...Hey, did I ever tell you how I got into this group?" He asked, trying to get Black's mind off things. "I don't think so." Black shrugged. "I only know about Titan, really." "Well, how about I tell you?" Shadow declared. "Why not? I could use a break." Black grimaced as the two take a seat, "So, how did somepony like you find a place in the ranks of the Taskfroce?" "...Well, it all started quite a long time ago. As you know, I wasn't exactly the most law-abiding kind of pony. I came from a dirt-poor family in Buckarest, Romaneia. Growing up, I always wanted more in life, but I knew I could never get it unless I work for it... however, I didn't have the patience or the time... so I turned to the life of a thief." "Were you any good?" Black asked. "Heh, only the best there was!" Shadow bragged. "I was always a fast learner and within a few years, I was hitting all sorts of high-profile places, and rolling in the dough. I was quite a rich stallion." He then let out a sigh. "...Unfortunately, there was this one heist at a museum. The score was a couple millions bits, but it was a two-pony job. So, I reached out to my fellow thieves and criminals, and found a guy. It seemed like everything was going okay when we did the heist... till at the last moment, the guy double-crossed me, left me in the museum, tripped an alarm, and before I knew it, I was caught and thrown into a Panamarean jail... and that was about when Elite came into my life..." Flashback... A younger Shadow was standing in a small prison cell. He has been in there for a couple of months. Due to being far away from home and even farther from his fortunes, he had no means of getting out of there, and the jail itself was that of very high security. So all he could do was bide his time till he would be released... which wasn't for a very long time. He used his hooves to make pony-shaped shadow puppets on the walls. "You overlooked one little detail, didn't you, partner?" He acted out the words his partner had thrown at him during the betrayal. "Face it genius, you've been played." He then spoke in his own voice. "Oh, really?" He mimed the sound of a crossbow firing, then had one puppet "die". A figure stood in front of the cell, blocking the light. "Hey, do you mind, bucker?" Shadow scowled. "You're ruining the show here!" "I am very sorry for that, Mr. Shadow. But I wish to speak with you." Shadow frowned in confusion as he turned to face the front of his cell, to see none other than a younger Elite (though possessing his false hoof) standing there. "...Um, who are you?" Shadow asked, "You're not one of the guards." "No, I am not." Elite declared. "My name is Elite Everest... and I have a proposition for you." "Um, no offense, but you're not my type, pal." Shadow snarked. "A business proposition." Elite rolled his eyes. "You see, skills like the ones you possess are truly impressive. Espionage, infiltration, stealth, quick escapes..." "Not impressive enough to keep me out of the slammer, though..." Shadow pouted. "Which brings me to my point." Elite declared. "Why waste your talents on petty theft? Your ability to slip in and out of places is unparalleled. Why not just use it for good, instead of only for yourself?" "What are you getting at, fella?" Shadow asked. "It's simple, really." Elite smiled. "If you agree to come and work for me, I'll pull some strings, so you can be released into my custody." "Work for you?" Shadow frowned. "And what exactly is it that you do?" "I'm putting together a Taskforce, one that can go places other cannot." Elite revealed. "If you join up, you could put your skills to the ultimate test, in service of the common good... and not have to run the risk of jail time doing it." "No kidding..." Shadow mused. "So you get me outta here, and after that, you'll actually pay me to break into places?" "Essentially, yes." Elite nodded. "Of course, if you'd rather stay here..." "Forget that." Shadow snorted. "I'm in." "You won't regret this, I promise." Elite smiled, shaking Shadow's hoof through the bars. Flashback ends... "...And that's how it all went down." Shadow declared. "I soon found out that I enjoyed using my skills for good. I've never back." "And what about that partner of yours?" Black asked. "The one who double-crossed you?" "I ran into him a few years later while on a mission." Shadow admitted. "I gave him a beat down and left him for the cops. Sweet, sweet karma..." "I'll bet it was, jailbird." Black smirked. "Hardey-har-har." Shadow rolled his eyes. Over the next few days, all sorts of leads were examined. Anything involving even a mention of Reaper was checked out. As a result, they learned of many horrific homicides committed by the stallion over the years. Before long, they received word of a recent murder spree in the town of Saddleton that had all the hallmarks of Reaper's modus operandi. "Looks like we may have found our target at last."Shadow smiled. "Hey, get a load of this." Micro noted, as he held up a piece of paper, "I've been looking over the list of victims... and there's a sole survivor. A stallion by the name of Rapere Foyet. He was attacked by the Reaper many years ago." "A survivor?" Ballista gaped, "But... how? From what I read, the Reaper has never left even one of his victims live." "Maybe the guy's getting sloppy in his old age." Armory suggested. "According to the profile, he should be about in his early fifties. It happens." "Either way, it's worth checking out." Black declared, "He might be the lead we need to finding this S.O.B." "It says here the bloke lives at 147 Trotter's Drive." Ballista declared. "Me and Black'll check on him." "I don't need help to question a civillian." Black snorted. "But what if Reaper's still around?" Ballista asked. "What if he tries to jump ya?" "Ballista makes a good point." Elite noted. "Where a maniac like Reaper is concerned, it's best to travel with back-up at all times." "Ugh, fine." Black scowled. "But if he's not there, I reserve the right to say 'I told you so'." The disguised Black and Ballista hurried over to Saddleton, and knocked on his door. They were answered by a sickly-looking middle-aged stallion with a graying orange mane, gray coat, and ice blue eyes, covered by small glasses. He wore a dark blue sweater, and his Cutie Mark was concealed by a large bandage. "Hello?" The stallion asked meekly. "Rapere Foyet?" Ballista asked. "Th-that's me." Rapere nodded. "What do you two... burly gents want?" "We're from the RDL. We wish to speak to you about what happened to you a few years ago..." Black declared. "Between you and the one they called... 'The Reaper'." Ballista added. "...H-him?" Rapere quivered, his face fraught with fear. "You are here to talk about... h-him?" "Yes. Is it alright if we come in?" Ballista asked. "...Sure." Rapere nodded meekly. Black and Ballista made their way into the house, taking a seat within the living room, as Rapere sat across from them on a couch. "Um, can I get you anything?" Rapere asked. "No, we only wish to take little of your time." Ballista declared. "We've recently reopened the case of the Reaper. It is our intention to finish what others have started and bring him to justice." "Really?" Rapere gasped, "After all these years?" "You betcha." Black nodded firmly. "It is our hope that you might be able to offer some insight into this madpony. Maybe give us a lead as to how to find the guy." "...Well, I am sorry to disappoint you, but I don't think I can help." Rapere frowned. "The last thing I want to do is think about that demon... Faust knows I already have nightmares about him. His faceless mask... his shadowy body... that awful sickle..." Black and Ballista silently acknowledged the description matching what they'd heard of Reaper. "I know it might be difficult, but we would like to at least hear about how you had come to survive an encounter with this stallion." Ballista declare., "If it is alright with you..." "...Well, if it will help you... sure." Rapere murmured. "It all started one terrible night. We were taking a stroll through the local park..." "'We'?" Black frowned. "Yes, me and my marefriend." Rapere nodded, "Her name was Buttercup. We were dating for a few years. In fact... I was planning on proposing to her by the pond. Had a ring and everything... but then... we were accosted by this shadowy mist and before I knew it..." His eyes began to water. "The Reaper was upon us. We'd heard about him in the news... but we didn't think he would come after us. We tried to run... but he shot me in the leg, so I couldn't run, and he tackled Buttercup to the ground." He let out a heave. "And... and... he killed her right in front of me. I had to watch as he stabbed her sixty-seven times..." "Sixty-seven times?!" Black gaped, shocked by the brutality. "Yes... do you have any idea how long it takes to stab somepony sixty-seven times?" Rapere sniffled, "All I could hear was her screaming in pain as the Reaper continue to stab her over and over... and when he finished up with her... he went after me. I tried to get away, but it hurt so much to move... and before I knew it, he was atop me, stabbing me repeatedly, just like he did Buttercup. The pain was so unbearable, that I blacked out. I thought I was dead... then I woke up in a hospital bed. They said that somepony came by and found me struggling for life, and got help. When the police came to talk to me, they assumed that the Reaper must have thought he had killed me when he left me... though I wish he had... The love of my life is gone, thanks to him..." "We're very sorry for your loss." Ballista sympathised. "Rest assured, Reaper will pay for this." Black declared. "We'll find that scum and bring him to justice if it's the last thing we do. That's a promise." "Thank you." Repere smiled. "It's comforting to know that the world still has decent stallions in it. And I hope you do get him. I'd hate to think that he might one day come back to finish the job..." "We'll do our best to make sure that doesn't happen." Ballista grinned. "We're getting real close to nailing that scum. We're practically right behind him." "It won't be long before we've got him pinned down." Black added. "And when that day comes, he'll pay for all his crimes. But I'll be sure to hit once for your marefriend." "Bless you, good sir." Repere nodded. "Well, we must be going." Ballista declared. "Thank you for your time." "My pleasure." Rapere smiled. "Well, looks like Reaper wasn't lying in wait." Black smirked. "Meaning it's 'I told you so' time." "Yeah, yeah." Ballista scowled. "Stick a cork in it, mate." "At least we're finally closing in." Black said firmly. "We'll finally get this clown..." A day or so later, an unusual package was brought in by Elite: a mirror. "This just got delivered to my office at the RDl." He declared. "Who sent it?" Armory frowned. "No idea." Elite shrugged. "You don't look like the kind of guy who needs a mirror." Black scoffed. "Poor gifting." "Weird." Shadow mused. Suddenly, the mirror started vibrating. "What the bloody hell?" Ballista frowned. "Rrf!" Titan growled. "It might be a bomb!" Armory yelped. "Drop it, sir!" Micro urged. Suddenly, a masked face appeared in the mirror... that of the Reaper... "Hello there, everypony." He hissed. "You." Black growled. "I'm glad you received my gift, Elite." Reaper announced. "I thought I'd only be speaking to you, but it seems you brought it to show the whole gang." "What is it that you want, Reaper?" Elite asked. "I'd like to negotiatiate a little deal with you." Reaper declared. "Oh, really?" Black scowled. "What kind of deal?" "A simple one." Reaper stated. "Similar to the one I made Gumshoe... but on a much bigger scale: all I ask that you cease all attempts to bring down the Forefathers, and move on with your petty little lives. You have all become such a nuisance to us and we are getting pretty sick of your crap." "Oh, and why would we do that?" Elite challenged. "...'If you stop hunting me, I'll stop hunting them'" Reaper declared. "That was the deal I offered Gumshoe, and now I am offering it to you all. If you leave us... all of us, alone, then you won't hear from me again... if not... well, the death toll will rise tenfold." "And you think I'd take that deal?" Elite growled. "It's a good deal." Reaper sneered. "Besides, I have no interest in playing with any of you. None of you are any fun." "Really, do you think us all cowards?" Black snarled. "We're nothing like Gumshoe. We're not going to back down because some psycho thinks he's better than us." "I'm giving you only one chance to end this." Reaper growled. "If you don't take it, then the deal is off the table for good." "We don't make deals with psychopaths." Elite growled. "We're the ponies who hunt ponies like you." "...There are no ponies likes me." Reaper sneered. "That's what you guys always say. But in the end, you all end up the same way." Black sneered back, "Dead... or a prison mule." "Yeah, sling yer hook." Ballista spat, "We're coming for ya." "...That's unfortunate." Reaper sighed. "Because otherwise, I would have called this off..." "Called what off?" Armory asked. Reaper angled the mirror, showing that he was near a fancy restaurant called The Trifecta. "No..." Elite gasped. "Yes." Reaper nodded, using his sickle to damage the fusebox, cutting the power of the restaurant. "What happens next is on your heads." "Don't you dare..." Black snarled. "Too late." Reaper cackled wickedly, switching off the mirror. The Taskforce stood still with shock, as the enormity of the situation sank in. "...What have we done?" Micro gaped. "We need to get over there, and fast." Black declared. "I know that restaurant." Ballista announced. "It's over in Saddleton." "We need to get moving." Elite said hurriedly. "If there's even a chance we can get there in time to catch him, we have to take it!" "No arguement here." Micro nodded. "Let's go!" Shadow agreed. "Ruff!" Titan added. Using their newly-upgrading motor carriage, the group reached Saddleton within the hour. Alas, they were still too late; The restaurant was strewn with dead bodies, all of them maimed and butchered. "By Faust..." Shadow gaped. "I think I'm going to be sick..." Micro grimaced. "That monster..." Black snarled. "Rooo..." Titan whined. "Suddenly, the upgrades I made to the carriage don't seem so impressive..." Armory sighed. "And we let this happen." Ballista sighed. "No, we didn't." Elite retorted. "We refused to play Reaper's sick little game. Even if we had agreed, he would returned to killing sooner or later." As Black surveyed the travesties, he saw something that chilled him to the bone. "Guys, look at this." He declared. The others joined Black, seeing the number "147" written in blood on the floor. "Good lord..." Micro cringed. "'147'?" Ballista frowned. "You don't think...?" "I do." Black nodded. "That monster's going back to Rapere's place to finish him off!" "Not today." Shadow declared. "Come on, Black. Let's stop him!" "Wait, it could be a trap!" Elite told them. "He's right." Ballista nodded. "Besides, it may already be too late." "That's not gonna stop us!" Black rushed off. "Wait for me!" Shadow added. "Guys, wait!" Armory called. "Let them go." Elite instructed. "Like Ballista said, there's a good chance they're already too late." "Poor Rapere." Armory sighed. "He already lost his marefriend to that monster..." "...Yeah..." Micro frowned... but for another reason entirely. "What is it, Micro?" Elite asked. "You see. I had been looking into what happened to Rapere and his marefriend... and I found a few disconcerting things. First off, I questioned some of Buttercup's friends and family... and according to them, she had only recently met Rapere in a class they were both taking. Only mere weeks before the attack." "What?" Ballista frowned. "But Rapere told us about how he was going to propose to her that night. He said they knew each other for a few years." "Well, either it was exaggeration, or love at first sight... or there is something else." Micro grimaced. "Now that you mention it, I read that Rapere had moved around a lot." Armory declared. "And each time he moved, the Reaper seem to go on a killing spree right in that very city he was living in." "That seems... awfully coincidental." Elite mused. "Yeah, it does." Micro frowned. "And more to the point, I haven't been able to find anything on him from before he moved to Saddleton. It's like he didn't even exist before then." "But it still doesn't explain why Reaper didn't finish him off before now." Ballista added. "Or why he wasn't more thorough that night." "Or maybe it does." Micro's eyes widened. "What are you getting at, Micro?" Elite asked. Without speaking, Micro quickly took a few napkins from a nearby table, and a quill and ink bottle from the reception desk and began writing on them. "What is it, Micro?!" Ballista demanded. "Rapere's name." Micro trembled, as he showed them the napkins, each with a letter on it, spelling out the name 'Rapere', "What happens, when you take the 'e' on the end and put it between 'R' and 'a'?" The others watched intently as he then took the napkin with the 'e' and moved it in between 'R' and 'a'. Everypony gasped, as the name spelt out... "Reaper." Elite whispered. "What?" Armory gasped. "You don't think..." "I do." Micro nodded. "But if that's true, it means... oh no." Elite frowned. "Black and Shadow. We have to warn them!" "On it." Ballista tried to activate his communicator, but got only static. "No good. We're being blocked somehow." "We have to go." Armory urged. "We have to help them." "Agreed." Elite nodded. "Move out!" They rushed out of the restaurant, determined to save their comrades. Meanwhile, Black and Shadow arrived at 'Rapere's' house. The door was open. "Oh, please, no..." Black cringed. They rushed inside. "Mr. Foyet?" Shadow called. "Are you there?" "...In here..." A voice said weakly. Black and Shadow followed the voice into the living room, finding Rapere slumped against his couch, covered in blood. "Holy..." Shadow gaped. "No... no!" Black yelled. "We're not losing another to that monster! Grab the bandages. We're patching him up!" "You got it, pal." Shadow nodded. Pulling out their emergency medical kits, Black and Shadow attempted to tend to Rapere's wound. "Seems like the worst is in his chest." Black declared. "Gonna have to take off the sweater..." Quickly, Black pulled off the sweater... but as soon as he did... his blood froze. On Rapere's chest was a giant ram's head tattoo. Surrounding it was all sorts of stab scars. It was also clear that the blood on him didn't originate from him. "What the-?" Black gaped. "No-" Shadow started. Before they could react further, they flinched, as none other than Talbolt had jabbed them both with syringes. "Nighty-night, Mr. 'Drake' and 'Sullivan'." Talbolt sneered. "Ugh..." Black groaned, as the sedative in the darts knocked him and Shadow out. A great darkness overwhelmed him... The murky fog lifted, and Black and Shadow found themselves tied up in an unknown location... "Uh... what happened?" Black moaned. "I think... we were drugged... and that Rapere is-" "Oh good, you're awake." The two lit up with horror, as they saw Rapere, dressed up as none other than the Reaper, with his black jacket, sickle, and crossbow, and his mask up. His Cutie Mark was now uncovered, revealing a bloody black owl. Talbolt was standing right aside him. "Rapere Foyet..." Black glared, "...Or should I say, Reaper." "You were close." Reaper smirked. "Foyet really is my last name... though Rapere took some creativity on my part." "So it was all a set up." Black glared. He was already trying to work through his bonds. He just needed time, and he knew how to get it. "All of it?" "Yep." Reaper nodded smugly. "Buttercup was just a poor mare who didn't know what she was getting into when she started dating me. As for me... well, let's just say I have gotten good at inflicting pain upon myself. Had you fooled, didn't I?" "Can't believe I actually worried about you..." Black snarled. "What do you want with us?" Shadow asked. "What do you think?" Talbolt spat. "We want Black, and all his associates, dead." "On the orders of the Forefathers, huh?" Black sneered. "Yeah, we know all about you Black Sheep." "I thought the Forefathers had at least some integrity." Shadow scoffed. "But hiring criminal madponies? That's a new low." "We aren't all madponies, you know." Talbolt scowled. "Some of us are actually sane." "Keep telling yourself that." Black snorted. "Oh, I've been waiting for this day." Talbolt sneered. "The day you die, Black. And even if I can't do the deed myself, at least I'll get to watch." "What am I, chopped sprouts?" Shadow joked. "Oh, don't worry. You get to die first." Reaper sneered at Shadow. "Lucky, lucky, lucky..." "Do your worst, monster." Shadow spat. "Not that I needed your permission, but that's exactly what I plan on doing." Shadow raised his sickle. "No, leave him alone!" Black struggled. "I'm the one you want. I'm the mission here!" "My mission is to not only eliminate you, but those associated with you." Reaper declared, lowering his mask. "I prefer to start with your friend here, so you can get a nice dose of fear and anguish before the mane event." "That's a good plan." Talbolt admitted. Reaper lowered his sickle over Shadow's leg, then cut deeply into the skin. Shadow grit his teeth to stop himself from screaming. "What..." Reaper frowned under his mask. "Okay, try this..." Repear jabbed his sickle into Shadow's shoulder. "Hrrr..." Shadow grunted. "'Hrrr'?" Reaper growled. "I don't want 'hrrr'! I want you to scream! To beg for mercy!" Reaper sliced into Shadow's side. Shadow winced mightily, but held in his agony. "Oh, come on!" Reaper yelled. "Why won't you scream? I'm maiming you over here!" "Maybe you're just not as good at this as you used to be." Shadow taunted him. "Or maybe you were always a lousy killer. Seriously, I've had way worse than this in my time." "What?!" Reaper spat. "I'm one of the greatest murderers in Equestrian history. You should be terrified of the very sight of me!" "Sorry, I'm just not feeling it." Shadow jeered. "...You're a tough one, aren't you?" Reaper scowled. "I don't like tough ones. There's no fear in them. And without fear, what's the point?" "Then you should just leave him." Black demanded, "I'm the one you want!" "I could... but I can't have ponies knowing that I let a pony live to tell that he wasn't afraid of me. I have a reputation to uphold, you know." Reaper declared as he took a spot behind Shadow. "No... no!" Black struggled harder, watching as Reaper brought the sickle to Shadow's neck. "Watch carefully, Black." Reaper sneered. "This is what happens to ponies who mess with me..." "And those who mess with the Forefathers." Talbolt added. "You should have known you and your friends couldn't escape their wrath forever." "Black..." Shadow whispered, acknowledging the anguish in Black's eyes. "Don't blame yourself for this. There was nothing you could have done. You shouldn't have to carry any more guilt..." With a simple swish, Shadow's throat was slit. "Nooooo!" Black roared. "Huh... hurgh..." Shadow gurgled, as he soon collapsed to the floor, blood leaking from his cut throat. He was dead within seconds. "Shadow!" Black yelled. "Shadow!" "Sorry, Black." Talbolt sneered. "I don't think your friend's up for a chat right now." "Shadow..." Black whispered. "If it's any consolation, you'll be joining him soon." Reaper scoffed. "Not too soon, though. I still need to have my fun. That one was such a disappointment." As Reaper advanced on Black, the distraught stallion developed a burst of strength, tearing through his bonds. "RAAAARRRGGGHHH!!" Black snarled, lunging at Reaper. "You'll pay for that, you sicko!" Black knocked away Reaper's sickle, pinning him down, and starting beating away at him. "Ugh!" Reaper grunted, as one punch sent his mask flying. "Get off!" But Black wouldn't budge. He was like a stallion possessed. "Talbolt-agh!" Reaper suffered another hoof to the face. "Do something!" "With pleasure." Talbolt moved in, knife at the ready. "Get lost!" Black gave a mule kick that sent Talbolt flying. "GAH!" Talbolt flew into the wall, causing him to slump to the floor. "Ha!" Reaper took advantage of Black's momentary lack of attention to throw him off. "Ugh!" Black grunted, as he crashed into a nearby table. He then spotted a crossbow with explosive bolts lying there. "Big mistake..." "No!" Reaper yelped. "Not that!" "This is for Shadow." Black growled, pulling the trigger. An explosive bolt fired at Reaper, who managed to leap out of the way just in time, using his spell to take on his smoke form. "You're gonna pay!" Black roared, firing another bolt. Reaper managed to dodge several more bolts, leaving them to explode on the floor, walls, and even the ceiling. "Stand still!" Black spat, a red cloud of rage falling over him. "Stand still and take your buckin' medicine!" "By Faust..." Reaper gasped, geniunely shocked by Black's rage. "And they say I'm a savage..." "And they're right!" Black roared. "Time to put you down like the rabid animal you are!" "Better than you have tried!" Reaper said defiantly. "But I'm actually going to succeed!" Black fired off several more bolts. "We'll see." Reaper spat. Reaper avoided the blasts, displaying impressiveness agility for his age. However, one explosion erupted too closely to him, knocking him to the ground. "Ugh!" He grunted. "Had enough yet?" Black snarled. "Never." Reaper hissed. "I was hoping you'd say that." Black smirked, raising the crossbow. Before Black could fire again, there was a loud crumbling noise. The blasts had taken their toll on the building; It was starting to fall apart. Huge chunks of the ceiling came down "We have to get out of here!" Talbolt (having recovered from unconsciousness) told Reaper, narrowly avoiding one chunk. "Before the whole place comes down on us!" "Nuh-uh. You're gonna pay!" Black roared. "Both of you!" "I'm not leaving until I finish this!" Reaper roared. "We'll all be finished if we stay any longer!" Talbolt yelled. "What's more important, a fight, or your life?" A falling chunk of ceiling knocked away Reaper's sickle (almost taking his hoof with it). "Damn it..." Reaper growled. "Fine, let's go." "You're going anywhere!" Black lunged forward. Before Black could reach them, a huge chunk of ceiling dropped down, seemingly crushing his adversaries. "Oh, come on!" Black roared. "I was so close..." His anger abating, Black realised how much trouble he was in. The whole place was coming down, and the door was on the other side of the room. 'Guess I'll be seeing Shadow soon after all...' He thought. Suddenly, a nearby wall was blasted open. Black saw Armory and the others on the other side. "Guys!" He smiled. "Hurry up, mate!" Ballista urged. Black leapt through the hole, just before the rest of the ceiling came down. "Are you okay, Black?" Armory asked. "We came to warn you-" Micro started. "That Rapere is really Reaper?" Black finished. "Yeah, I know." "Wait, where's Shadow?" Elite asked. "Shadow... he's... he's... gone." Black bowed his head. "What?" Micro gasped. "What do you mean gone?" Ballista asked. Black quickly filled them in. "I don't believe it." Elite said, grief-stricken. "He's really dead." "And what's worse, his body was probably pulped by the place coming down." Black added. "Not my best move..." "You were trying to avenge him." Elite smiled sadly. "Believe me, Shadow wouldn't have minded." "And it sounds like you did avenge him." Armory added. "Oh, yeah." Ballista nodded. "You buried those blighters." "Besides, we have our resources." Micro smiled. "We'll have Shadow's body recovered, so we can give him a proper burial." "Yeah, great..." Black sighed. "I know how you feel, Black." Elite nodded. "One of our own is gone. He paid the ultimate price of this mission. All we can do now is honor his sacrifice..." "Of course..." Black said weakly. A heart made of stone Callous and bone Fracture and let it out To let it go And to think I called it my own And I would have never thought The pain could grow The Taskforce returned to their headquarters, a melancholy air hanging over them. "Arooo!" Titan howled. "I know, big guy." Armory patted him comfortingly. "I'll miss him too." "We all will." Elite added. Black, lost in grief, could do nothing but gaze sadly into the distance. So I'll break it Knowing what you said The pain is what you make it Sadly, you are so mistaken I will take you with a grain And step into the changes Throw away the empty heart It was Micro who had the heavy task of moving Shadow's name from the "Active Agents" file to the "Deceased" file. "Rest in peace, old friend..." He sighed. Right now Never want to leave this place And right now See it in a different way So right now Even if you take me on I'll stand the lonely Stand the lonely With Shadow gone, his quarters had to be cleared out, and his possessions put into storage. As he watched Shadow's belongings being removed from his quarters, Black felt a heavy weight on his heart. 'Why does this keep happening to me?' He thought. 'Why do I keep losing ponies I care about?' It's harder to know Just where to go If only the stars aligned The sunsets glowed I don't need A calm in the storm Or something to scream about With empty lungs In his office, Elite looked glumly upon one of his private photos. It depicted him with Shadow, not long after he joined up, entertaining the Taskforce with his shadow puppets in the lounge room. "Wherever you are now, I hope you're still practicing those puppetry skills." Elite gave a sad smile. So I'll break it Knowing what you said The pain is what you make it Sadly, you are so mistaken I will take you with a grain And step into the changes Throw away the empty heart Titan curled up in his room, clutching a bandana that had belonged to Shadow (and which he had spirited away during the clearing out of his quarters). "Rooo..." He whined, heartbroken. Right now Never want to leave this place And right now See it in a different way So right now Even if you take me on I'll stand the lonely Stand the lonely Ballista stood before the wall of remembrance, which had just had Shadow's photo added to it. "Here's to you, mate." He raised a bottle of cider. "It was a real honor." The funeral was a small affair. Shadow had no real family to speak of any more, so it was just the Taskforce in attendance. "Shadow had less-than-humble beginnings, but he was a truly good soul." Elite declared. "He provided a service that can never be replaced. We thank you for everything, Shadow. Rest in piece." Black was silent through the entire service. He did nothing but stare at the grave the whole time. 'I lost another one.' He thought. 'And I couldn't do a bucking thing about it. Just like White. ...Why am I so useless? You couldn't save them, Black. Instead, you failed them...' The present... Fletcher and Caboose were shocked and disturbed by Black's tale. "That was awful." Fletcher frowned. "Poor Shadow..." Caboose lowered his head in sorrow. "Yes." Black sighed. "I lost another friend that day. And once again, I was powerless to prevent it." "And so soon after losing White..." Fletcher noted. As the trio stood in silence, Incognito walked by. "Oh, hello." He took note of the situation. "I see you're taking a moment to honor the fallen." "Not just any fallen." Caboose declared. "Shadow Slinker..." "...Oh, of course." Incognito sighed. "Shadow was my mentor, so his death hurt me just as much as anypony." "He was your mentor?" Caboose frowned. "How come we never heard of that in Black's story?" "Because I didn't find out until later." Black answered. "So how did he come to take you on as a student?" Fletcher asked. "Well, it was quite by chance that we met." Incognito smiled. "I was just this kid, trying to break into a gold depository. But Shadow had also broke in, as the depository was owned by the Forefathers. He found me on his way out, just as I was trying to sneak in. He was impressed by my cat-like moves, and decided to take me under his wing." "'Course he did." Black smirked. "You probably reminded him of himself." "He brought me in to the Taskforce, talked Elite into letting me train under him." Incognito recalled. "Thanks to him, I was able to actually make something of myself. He truly was a great stallion." "Yeah." Black smiled. "He sure was." "When I was told that I would be taking his place, I knew that Shadow would have been proud... but I also know that I probably had no chance of filling in the hole that he left when he died." Incognito declared. "All I can do is honor his memory by serving the function he once held as well as I can." "I'm sure he would have appreciated that." Black smiled. "There truly is nothing worse than losing a comrade." Fletcher sighed. "No kidding." Caboose nodded. "And our family lost a crap ton of them over the years." "In that respect, we're all the same." Black nodded. "We all have lost friends in our personal wars. And in my war, there was plenty more to come. Even with all my still-living comrades, it was going to get rough. Sometimes, I feel like it's a miracle I made it through all of it... but that's what having good teammates will do for you." "Indeed." Fletcher nodded. "Oh, yeah." Caboose agreed. "That's one to grow on."