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Prologue: The Pinkie Pie Incident2,037 words
Chapter 1: 120 Miles off the Coast of Hoovesta Rica1,941 words
Chapter 2: Blood Suckers Abound2,138 words

Chapter 1: 120 Miles off the Coast of Hoovesta Rica

"Raptor. Lo sa raptor..."

It was night. Celestia’s golden sun had long since set beyond the horizon, and its place had now been taken by Luna’s silvery, crescent moon which loomed over the tropical sky. Everything was completely dark out save for the glow of the lights on the building behind the large crew of workers as they looked out towards the jungle. The group was made up of mostly Earth Ponies, Donkeys, a handful of Unicorns and several Zebra - with a few Pegasi watching from the tower that stood at the very back of the building.

The building itself looked more like a small – yet high security – prison than anything else. Thick foliage and greenery grew out of the “courtyard” to the point you couldn’t see anything in there, and electrified fencing and iron-bars lined the top of it. At the very front of the “prison”, was a large, imposing steel door that looked like it was built to withstand even an angry bull elephant!

The most of the workers were dressed in what appeared to be black and charcoal grey construction uniforms. Each wore orange hardhats with the picture of what appeared to be the silhouette of some skeletal horror with a massive head, huge teeth, and yet rather puny arms. Most were armed with what could only be described as “heavy duty cattle prods” (which looked like the hybridization of a taser, a shotgun, and assault rifle, with a tuning fork stuck to the end) that were hooked up to their utility saddles. The rest of the workers were equipped with powerful looking rifles, which were hooked up to their own utility saddles.

Only one pony seemed to stand out from the group; a powerful looking Pinto Earth Pony stallion – with brown patches, a dark brown mane and shorn fetlocks – that seemed to give off a sense of authority that told everyone immediately that he was in charge. Unlike the others, he wore a pale mint-green (almost grey) safari-looking shirt with a brownish-tan vest and a wool cowpony hat. He stood there at the front of the crew; staring unblinkingly at the tree line with a fierce determination, as the dark mass drew closer.

The trees swayed back and forth as something large and powerful moved between them. Many of the workers were sweating from the high humidity – though the night did bring with it a cool respite to the ugly mornings that were so common in this geographic location. Everyone stood at the ready as they stared off towards the tree line that sat only a few yards away.

Branches and sapling could be heard snapping in the distance. Several workers were chewing gum to calm their nerves, as beads of sweat flowed down their foreheads. There was a bluish white light in the distance, as an engine roared. Gears ground together, tree limbs snapped, and ferns were crushed, as the forklift rolled out of the dense foliage towards the docking platform at the front of the building. It was carrying a large, metal crate; around 20 feet long, with small gaps place here and there: making it look more like an industrial strength cattle car. As soon as the workers saw it, they became more ridged and on edge.

“Everypony heads up! Heads up!” one of the pony workers shouted, as the lift rolled forward and everypony began moving out of the way; letting the lift pass through.

“Keep it clear… Keep it clear!” a black Earth Pony in a bright orange vest shouted over the grinding of the lift’s gears, as he moved forward to help guide the lift into position. “Okay, down!”

“¡Andalé! ¡Sí, Vamonos!” one of the workers (a donkey from the Hoovesta Rican mainland) shouted in Spanish to the other workers as they all got ready for the job ahead.

“Keep going! Come on!...” the black Earth Pony shouted, as the forklift approached the docking platform, in front of a concrete building-the top of which was lined with electrified fences, with a small tower at the back of it. Several other orders were barked, but were lost in the sound of the lift’s grinding gears. Once the lift was in position, he quickly added, “that’s good; stay!”

Several more words in Spanish were shouted, but were lost to the commotion of the workers moving forward and the lift slowly began to lower the crate; lining it up so that it would fit into the grooves on the platform.

The stallion in the khaki vest and safari shirt locked his eyes on the crate for a second as if trying to stare it down. A pair of bright yellow orbs flashed out at him from between the gaps in the crate, and stared directly at him as if to return the sentiment. His clenched teeth hard together; though his face never changed from the stern, neutral look he had been wearing. He turned to the group standing behind him, and barked an order; “Pushing team, move in there.”

“Move it!” one of the work crew said, and then added, “¡Cuidado, vamos!” in a warning tone, as the team ran forward towards the metal crate.

“I want tasers on full charge!” the Pinto stallion ordered with a distinct “British” accent as they moved forward, making sure that everyone was prepared.

As soon as they reached the crate and the first worker touched it, the group was greeted by a high pitched, primal scream that made everypony’s heart race. The crew directly around quickly jumped back in terror; eyes wide with fear.

“Steady!” he barked from under his wool cowpony hat, stepping forward as if hoping to prevent anything from happening as the rest of them jumped back at the sound.

“Come on. Move back in,” he ordered, after everyone had regained themselves.

“Places!” another pony shouted from behind, as several more workers moved forward to help them.

“Ready, move it!”

The workers galloped forward and took hold of the metal bars on either side of the crate. Once everypony had taken their places, the stallion barked out: “and, push!”

The crate screeched, as they pushed it toward a large, metal gate. As soon as the crate came in contact with the gate, there was a satisfying “Ka-chuck!” followed by a buzzing as the lights on either side of the gate changed from red to green.

“We’re locked; loading team, step away!” the stallion said, somewhat relieved – although his voice did not show it. Once again, the yellow orbs with the slit pupils inside the crate locked onto him, but he ignored it.

“Gatekeeper!” he shouted, turning to a rather large Zebra worker with a glyph of a flowing river on his flank, who quickly walked up to the crate and began climbing up the bars at the front of it. A crackling, hissing sound came from inside the crate as the orbs immediately stopped staring at the stallion in the khaki vest, and locked onto the Zebra that now stood atop the crate.

“Zubari, raise the gate!” he shouted up to the striped equine on top of the crate. The Zebra nodded, before turning towards the building. He bent down, and – using every ounce of strength he had – began to lift the gate up so that the contents of the crate could be moved into the structure it was currently locked to. The gate groaned a little as he began lifting it up: inch by inch.

Another scream erupted from inside the crate, as a dark silhouette inside charged full speed towards the front the crate: slamming into the gate with almost unrealistic strength. There was barely enough time to react. Everypony’s jaw dropped at that moment, as the crate broke free from the lock – door open – and began sliding backwards. The Zebra worker was thrown off balance and fell to the concrete floor of the docking pad below with a thud, as the crate was knocked free of the gate. A worker had lifted his hoof, as if trying to catch him, but was only knocked back into the others behind him.

Zubari lay there on the ground dazed and hurt as the alarm blared. The green lights on either side of the gate had changed to red. Several other workers galloped to the back of the crate as they tried to stop it from sliding back, but were instead knocked down as it continued to slide backward another few feet. Zubari was still slightly dazed as he lay face down on the ground; his brain throbbing too much for him to fully grasp what had just happened. He slowly lifted his head and attempted to get back on his hooves. The Zebra looked up to see the others galloping towards him. A surge of terror seized his heart as he felt himself suddenly and violently dragged backwards.

“BLOCK THE OUTLET! DON’T LET IT GET OUT!!!” the white and brown blotched Earth Pony shouted; his eyes wide as he grabbed the Zebra around the waist and tried to pull him free. Several workers ran to the front of the crate; their tasers charged up. Zubari screamed, as he felt his lower half been torn apart! The tasers sparked as the other workers jabbed the thing inside the crate as hard as they could. Zubari grabbed hold of one of the bars he had used to climb up the crate in a desperate attempt to get free, before being violently lifted up into the air as if he were nothing more than a light feather pillow; knocking the Pinto stallion to the ground, along with several others.

The Stallion in the khaki shirt quickly scrambled back up, and grabbed hold of Zubari once more! His eyes were wide, and he gritted his teeth, as began pulling the Zebra worker as hard as he could. Another batch of workers ran in, and began zapping the thing with the tasers. In fact, everyone who was armed & able was using their tasers, sending sparks into the night air. The creatures’ screams filled night air, as the tasers were thrust against its hide, yet it refused to relinquish its prey.

“WORK HER BACK!” he shouted frantically; Zubari still screaming from the pain he was in. The tasers continued to spark and sizzle, as they were forced against its scaly hide. Their eyes suddenly locked again. He could see her clearly now: her brown and grey scales, and bright yellow eyes – illuminated by the sparks from the tasers. He could see the raw hatred and fury in her snake-like eyes as she stared at him even as she tore apart the Zebra they were playing tug-of-way with.

She wasn’t going to stop… No matter how many tasers were forced on her, she just was not going to relent. He could feel Zubari slipping away now, as his strength began to give out. He had to end this, now! No matter how much trouble he would be in, he had to do it!

“SHOOT HER!” the stallion order at the top of his lungs, as the worker screamed again-sounding more like a pained moan, by now. He could feel the Zebra slipping away from his sweaty grip.

“SHOOOOOOOOOT HEEEEEEEEER!!!” he shouted again; his voice growing hoarse, as he felt the worker’s arm slip away between his forearm, bicep, and armpit-now only clenching the Zebra’s fetlock, which was almost gone. It slipped away a little more, and now he was gripping was nothing more than hoof! He then felt his grip close in around nothing.

BLAM!…BLAM! BLAM!

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