PART 1 - SERVICE. Chapter 1: Package
Carol City, Equestria
A grey pegasus mare tossed back and forth in her bed, mumbling silently in her sleep. A gust of wind blew through the open window, making her shiver and curl up more tightly under the mangled sheets. Her eyelids clenched a bit tighter, and she moaned. Tossing about for another minute, her eyes eventually slid open, one staring blankly upwards, and the mare went still.
Breathing hard and drenched in sweat, the mare spent several minutes gazing at the ceiling. The sunlight painted it dark orange through the curtains, illuminating a cloud of blurry particles in the hot air. She remained motionless, though awake. Eventually, the mare took a deep breath, untangled herself from the covers and rolled out of the bed. Along the way, she glanced at her alarm clock and sighed deeply. There were double digits on the left side.
She rubbed her eyes and stumbled out into the kitchen. Her hooves nearly tripped over a toy train, and she winced on hearing the plastic crackle. Looking down, the pegasus tiptoed carefully among the dozens of other toys strewn about. She put on a weak smile, glancing at the door next to her bedroom.
The mare stifled a yawn and approached her fridge and pantry, gathering bread, eggs, flour, milk, green onions, and oil for the breakfast. She searched the cupboards for a frying pan, failing to find it anywhere. Another sigh escaped her when she eventually discovered it among a mountain of dirty dishes in the sink. She quickly washed it, set it on the stove, and got to cooking.
While the contents of the pan were busy sizzling, the pegasus turned the coffee machine on and placed some bread into the toaster. Within seconds, a cavalcade of strong scents flooded her kitchen. Yawning again, she brushed aside the dirty plates and leftover scraps of food on her table, making room for a fresh plate and cup. She poured herself coffee, filled a glass of cool water, gathered the toast, nudged the omelette from the pan onto the plate, and sat down to eat.
A noise rang out from the front door, just as she put the dishes into the sink. An envelope slipped through the slot on the door and landed in a pile of various newspapers and catalogues. Shaking her head, she abandoned the dishes and gathered the letters, dumping them on her table. A residency bill, advertisements, an election vote reminder, and finally, a letter from an odd source.
The mare pushed the others aside, opened the envelope, and looked at the letter within.
Dear Ditzy,
Sorry I haven't written to you in a while. I know you haven't been at peace since you moved out. How's the kid? Is Carol City treating you alright?
Moving there might have been a mistake. I doubt there's a lot of work there nowadays. But don't worry, I found something perfect for you. There's a nice place over at 45 Starling Avenue, waiting for a delivery. You'll need to wear something discreet. It's in the package I included with this letter.
Hope you have a great time!
Hugs and kisses,
Red Stamp
Assistant Manager, EQUESTRIA DELIVERY SERVICE CLIENT SUPPORT
Ditzy got up and opened her door, finding a cardboard box in front of it. She picked it up, set it on her back, and walked through the corridor to a balcony. Once there, she paused, looking down at her forehooves, which rested on the railing.
A breeze of air rustled her mane, mixed with salty vapor from the ocean a short distance ahead. It was obscured by a line of palmtrees planted between the lanes of a paved road, where rare carriages were passing by. The waves crashed noisily against the sand.
Setting the box down, Ditzy read the message one more time and lifted the package to her good eye. Pounding it with a hoof, she got the lid to open up. Her bad eye twitched, rising to the corner of the socket. After having stared at the contents for a minute, she closed the box and headed back into her apartment.
Her door stayed locked until seven in the evening.
The sounds of rustling garbage echoed off the walls of the alley. A homeless pony gave a low burp and cleared his throat before sticking his head back into the dumpster. He froze in place when sounds of wingflaps came from nearby, followed by a dull thud. He turned to look, eyes squinting from the evening brightness beyond the alley. An equine figure stood at the entrance, wings folding up. It steadily walked forth, stepping into the long shadows of the buildings around them.
The stallion ducked between the dumpsters and peeked around the edge. The figure was a grey pegasus mare wearing what looked like a blue postal worker’s uniform. Her back was turned and the clothes covered her cutie mark.
The mare took out a note from her saddlebags, checked it and looked up at the opposite side of the alley.
A dingy, two-story building stood there, all of its windows broken or boarded up. Light and faint music seeped out of every hole. Without pause, she walked up to the front door and gave it a series of firm knocks. The stallion winced, covering up his face. He opened his mouth and raised his hoof, stopping himself from making any noise when the mare took out another object from her bags and pulled it onto her head. Its exact shape faded with the distance, although it was grey in color.
A muffled male voice answered from inside the building. The stallion held his breath and curled up even tighter. A series of hoofsteps approached the entrance from within.
The next moment, the mare reared up and slammed her hooves on the door. It burst open, rapidly swiveling halfway before coming to a halt with a loud bang. A large body could be heard slumping to the ground, and the masked mare stepped inside.
A pair of stallions in worn street clothes argued intensely over a thickly stuffed envelope. A third one, wearing a black hoodie, leaned against the wall of the kitchen behind them, idly toying with the chain that hung from his shoulders. They fell silent when hard knocking came from the front door, masked by the bass-heavy music playing upstairs.
The arguing duo looked at each other, shrugged, and turned to the third pony, who rolled his eyes and trudged out of the kitchen. He called out in advance, expecting it to be one of their associates bringing food. No one answered. Stepping slower and with more tension, he walked up to the door and lifted the lid on the large peephole.
He opened his mouth and failed to speak before the door slammed him in the face. The stallion dropped to the floor with a heavy thud. He groaned, limbs squirming as he tried to get back up. His companions called out and stepped into the hallway. They froze in place, seeing a masked pegasus bring their hoof down on the stallion's throat, him flailing and gurgling. Moments later, a loud, wet crunch rang out, and the pony went limp.
Hollering at the mare, the thugs in the kitchen rushed ahead. The intruder advanced as well, lunging at the first one just as his hoof raised a metal pipe to strike. A blow from her right foreleg sent him staggering back. The mare followed up by grabbing his head with her left hoof and slamming it against the wall. The other stallion tried to pounce her, flying back after receiving a rapid kick from her hind legs.
The masked pony looked down at the pony slumped against the wall. Before he could come to his senses, a pair of forehooves pressed against his temples. He began to scream shortly before his skull caved in. A loud, wet noise echoed in the hallway, the mare’s hooves sinking into pulverized bone, brain matter and eye fluid. The other hoodlum began to get up, but the mare’s weight landed on him and pushed him back down, while her forelegs twisted him around. He thrashed and gave muffled cries as a bag slipped over his face. She pulled at it hard while keeping his head down with a hoof. The cries quickly turned into gurgling and gasps for breath, after which the stallion went still.
For good measure, the mare slammed the motionless pony’s face against the floor and left the bag firmly attached to his face. She got up and removed the chain from around the first thug’s shoulders. Behind the door to her left, another pair of mobsters rolled off a dirty mattress and gathered their weapons. One of them called out to the others and approached the door. His shirt remained on the bed, and plastic pill cases were scattered all over the floor.
Before his hoof could touch the knob, the door burst open and tossed him back onto the bed, the pegasus rushing in right away. The other pony tried to swing with his pole, but his opponent simply ducked and lashed out with the chain, knocking the weapon aside. This allowed her to pounce and smash his face with her covered forehead, causing the snout of the mask to crumple inward. He staggered back and dropped the pole, grasping at his muzzle. The second blow from the chain caved in the side of his head, and he fell silent. His companion could only let out a curse before the chain came down on his skull as well, turning it into bloody pulp.
Down the hallway, a third pony emerged from the door on the right, the sound of rushing water behind him. He began to whistle and then instantly came to a halt when his eyes passed over the bloodstains covering the walls and the floor, along with the motionless shapes of his companions. He ran for the bedroom, barely reaching the doorway when the mare flew straight at him, knocking his body all the way into the far wall.
The pegasus then quickly threw him to the ground, grabbed his head, and bashed it repeatedly against the floor. The hoof-hold of a knife protruded from one of his pockets. She dropped the chain and took the blade instead.
Upstairs, one of the thugs walked down the dirty and crumbling hallway, muttering to himself. His ears twitched from the sound of wings flapping, and a weight landed on his back just as he tried to turn around. A cold object pressed against his throat, making his eyes widen. He let out a wheezing gurgle, blood streaming out of slashed veins and arteries.
The other two kept chatting away in an adjacent room, giving the intruder time to look around. The hallway led to another bathroom and two other bedrooms, all of them unoccupied and filthy. Several of the walls had graffiti painted on them, most of it various obscenities. Piles of junk and dozens of pill cases were strewn about, along with dried vomit stains. In the open bathroom, the mirror was shattered, the few remaining pieces caked with crusty blood.
The mare tiptoed her way to the final room at the end of the hall. She paused along the way to inspect a small, circular symbol next to the door. The red paint was still fresh.
Cracking the door open slowly, she peeked inside, her forehoof holding the knife at the ready.
Compared to the rest of the building, that particular room was relatively clean and organized. The walls were lined with cabinets and shelves, some of them still holding a few withered books. A large mahogany desk stood opposite the door, the two thugs standing behind it. Their hooves fiddled with a large bag on top of the desk, stuffed with various metal devices.
She opened the door and stepped in, making the two ponies freeze and look up. They stared at each other for a few seconds, neither side moving or talking. One of them, a stallion, tried to make a grab for the contents of the bag, to which the mare replied by tossing the knife at him. He let out an odd groan, air flowing out of his lungs as the blade embedded itself in his forehead.
His companion, a pale unicorn mare wearing a cheap black suit and glasses, gave an awkward grin and backed away from the desk. She stuttered, failing to produce anything coherent.
The masked mare ignored her and walked up to the desk. The unicorn gulped and held up her hooves, to no effect. Panicking, she quickly fumbled with one of her sleeves until a small firearm slid out, rising into the air with a flicker of her horn. It shook in her grip as she tried to aim it, horn sparkling aimlessly, while her opponent reached for the bag between them.
A shot rang out, the bullet missing the masked mare's face by inches and embedding in the far wall.
The second one was much louder. It came from the opposite direction.
The mobster collapsed, eyes empty, and a large hole torn in her chest. A spent crystal shell hit the floor, shattering into pieces. Moments later, it was followed by the gun itself. A greenish flame burst from the unicorn mare's hoof, traveling up the appendage and spreading to the rest of her body. When it died down, the corpse of a pony was replaced by that of a slightly smaller pitch-black equine with uneven holes permeating its limbs, blank eyes turned dull and green. A pair of small, chipped fangs peeked from under the upper lip.
The pegasus waited for the process to complete, then turned around and left the room. Her breath was ragged, and her limbs gave occasional shivers, while her pace and motions remained calm and deliberate. She went down the stairs and strolled past the corpses in the hallway, the majority of which had by then reverted to their real forms.
Reaching the door, the masked mare paused. There was a loud yelp, as the homeless stallion stared at the massacre, bloodshot eyes going from the corpses to the masked postal pegasus. The bum whimpered and backed away slowly. He stumbled and fell down, now fixating on the mare's mask.
The rubber imitated blue-grey feathers, topped with a yellow beak. Similarly yellow eyes bulged from eyeholes, one staring back at him, the other twitching on the outer edge. The pigeon's image folded and dented as the mare underneath it took deep breaths.
“O-okay...” he whispered. His legs trembled. “I didn’t see nuthin, I swear. Please? C-come on—”
His words cut out with a whimper. The lanky stallion struggled as the mare’s limbs forced him to the ground and locked on his throat. His brown face went deep red as they pressed in deep.
His eyes rolled back, tongue hanging from his open mouth. Red soon became purple, and his motions slowed.
The pegasus stumbled away from the lifeless body. Her hooves fumbled with the mask and tore it off her head, letting her gasp for breath. Her sweat-soaked mane fell onto her eyes, which blinked repeatedly. She fell on her haunches and forced her eyes at the ground, shivering as her drenched skin was exposed to the cool air.
After a minute-long breather, she got back up, spread her wings and left the alley.
"One of Carol City’s less lustrous quarters has been hit by a sudden wave of killings, adding to the housing and contingency issues already present before. "
...
"Investigating reports of violence at 45 Starling Avenue, the CCPD has found 9 heavily mutilated bodies. Further inspection has confirmed most of the victims’ identities as members of the "Tunnel Snakes" - a local gang comprised mostly of Prejudice Rock Pact immigrants. Among results of police search was a package containing illicit firearms, presumed to have been in possession of the gang members. "
…
"Despite collateral damage to the building interior and copious amounts of blood, no evidence points to a culprit. … The detectives on the case have stated that infighting appears to be the most probable cause of the crime. With the extreme violence involved in the killings, one wonders just how organized our city’s 'organized' crime truly is."
The sun had just disappeared over the horizon, although its lingering light still outshone the active streetlights. The metal gate of the playground whined repeatedly as the last of the adults opened it and left for home, dragging their children behind them.
Ditzy landed just outside the entrance. She allowed a couple to exit first and made her way through the gate, walking among the various toys and structures. At the far end of the place was a large seesaw, a lone filly sitting on its top.
“Hi, mom!” The child waved. “Wow, you look tired. You okay?”
She jumped off the seat and ran up to the mare, hugging her forelegs tightly. Ditzy responded by gently stroking her head.
“Ugh… School was boooooring.” The filly pouted. “Don’t wanna talk about it.”
The mare smiled and pulled her into a tight hug. The filly giggled and nuzzled her mother’s cheek.
“Guess what, I played on the big slide today!” she said proudly. “Cause I’m a grownup!”
Her mother nodded and nudged the filly toward the exit.
“Maybe we could play together tomorrow?” she went on.
Another nudge came from the mare’s foreleg, and they picked up the pace.
“Yaaaay!” The filly giggled and danced beside her mother as they walked. Once outside the playground, she jumped on her back, holding on tightly with her legs. The pegasus spread her wings and carefully lifted off, riding the drafts along the coast back toward home.
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Nice, keep it up!
I fucking love Hotline: Miami! And now I love this story.