Who is Number Eleven?

by DrugOverlord

Prologue

It was the dead of night, and a young woman walked alone down the streets of Canterlot. She walked with both confidence and purpose, her strong features barely lit by the decade old streetlights. Even in such dim light, her eyes flashed, alert and ready for any possible danger. Still, she didn’t see the man behind her, who slipped from light to light quickly and quietly, always staying at least twenty paces back. He watched her with sharp eyes, and heavy breathing, barely keeping up and yet still moving fast, as though driven by some otherworldly force.

The woman, still unaware of his presence, turned off the street, and into a tiny alleyway, her hair a faint wisp of raven-black fading into the shadow. The man sped up so as not to lose her to the corner. He followed with laser precision, and laser focus, which ended up being rather unfortunate for him. He was so much like a laser, that he ignored everything and everyone around him, and so didn’t see his own stalker until it seemed to be literally birthed out of the shadows beside him.

The first thing he saw was a flash of cyan eyes, inspiring him to scream in fright and jump away from the creature. As the glow moved close, he reacted in an admirably predatory fashion, throwing a panicked haymaker into the dark. However, his assailant was ready for that, and ducked under his arm with ease. She, for it was in fact a woman, followed her dodge up with a stunning left hook. Her blow caught him in the jaw and knocked him onto his back. Putting a hand to his face, the man scrambled away until his back came up against a lamppost, just outside the entrance to the alley.

The light, while dim, was enough to show a soft face on its way to becoming fat, a random spray of freckles, and dull gray eyes, filling with tears of pain. One hand still to his face, he raised his other into a vaguely defensive position. The sound footsteps, approaching slowly, put the man more and more on edge, until at last he cried out. “Who?!” Or at least, some screeching, terrified facsimile of that vocalization. Then, finally, his attacker walked out into the light, such as it was, and revealed herself to him.

She had cyan eyes, of course, though he already knew that from earlier. He saw now that she had dark red hair, streaked with dull gold, which flowed down to somewhere between her shoulderblades. A black leather jacket with silver studs, dark blue jeans, and knee high leather boots completed the picture. Though, as she drew closer, what he was most concerned with was her wide, animalistic grin, and the violence that seemed etched into the very leather of her soul.

He tried again, much more feebly and whimpery than before. “Who?”

She tilted her head to the side in response, and her smile grew wider and wilder. She made a vague gesture towards herself. “Who me? Name’s Sunset Shimmer.” In the next instant, she was right up in his face, crouched over him as he cowered in the lamplight. He let out a little screech and tried to scramble away, but Sunset grabbed him by the front of his shirt, pinning him in place. “Hey. No running. Hey.” She gave him a rather hard shake. “Look at me.”

He did so, slowly, and with a look of pure terror in his eyes. As she locked eyes with him, and pulled closer, the fear grew more and more intense. It was here that Sunset may have started to feel just the tiniest bit guilty, and she hesitated. Was it really okay for her to be strong arming him like this? He was clearly much weaker than her, unprepared for any level of violence. She felt like a… well. Like a bully. But Sunset quickly shook the feeling off. She had a job to do, and she was gonna do it right. So she hardened her heart, and sharpened her gaze, and leaned in closer.

“You’ve been a real naughty boy lately,” she said, putting as much fire and venom in her words as she thought he could handle. Which was to say, she operated on "Scaring children during Halloween" mode, rather than "Freeze the heart of the Devil herself" mode. The man didn’t seem to appreciate the distinction, and tried to run again. Since Sunset’s hand was already on him, he wasn’t able to move even an inch. She waited for him to stop, patiently, then spoke again. “Look. I don’t know if you’re a killer, or if you’re just some garden variety stalker, but honestly? I don’t really care. The powers that be have called on me to stop you, so I’m going to.” As she spoke, she reached into her jacket pocket with her free hand. The man’s eyes followed her motion, the rest of him frozen.

As she withdrew her hand, the object obscured, the man suddenly erupted into motion with a series of violent shakes and twists, trying his damndest to break free of Sunset’s grip. He must have thought it was some deadly instrument, some switchblade or gun, ready to bleed him out here and now, in the middle of the street. An ignoble way for anyone to die. Fortunately for him, it was merely Sunset’s cellphone. Unfortunately for him, she could still use it as a weapon, and did so, whacking him on the side of the head. It was a pretty half-hearted blow, more out of consideration for the phone than for the man, but it was still enough to stun him back into inaction.

Shaking her head, she hit a few buttons on the screen and held it up to his face. A bright light flashed in his eyes, slamming into the backs of his retina and blinding him temporarily with a large green splotch across the center of his vision. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision, and Sunset used the opportunity to get directly in his ear.

“I know what you’ve been doing, and who you’ve been following. I’m telling you, right now, to stop. Forever. And I’m also promising you that if you don’t, I will personally track you down, and I will personally, and literally, rip out your throat.” She let go of his shirt and pushed away from him, melting back into the shadows.

The man lay there for several seconds, stunned, before he got back to his feet. He looked around, briefly, for any sign of his attacker. He saw no one, and breathed a visible sign of relief. He then looked, for the briefest of moments, in the direction he had last seen the woman he had been stalking. Then he shuddered, and walk-ran in the opposite direction.

Sunset, watching from down the street, nodded in approval. Smart. She looked back to her phone, and tapped a few more times, composing an email with the subject line Job Complete, and the photo she took attached. After sending it off into the electrical ether, she stuffed both it and her hands into her jacket pockets. Turning on her heel, she headed off into the night, boots making little sound as she left the dark streets behind.

Comments

[TheSouthernBrony]

This is going to be really interesting. Look forward to more

[StallionWithTheMetalHoof]

I'm intrigued An interesting premise, Sunset being badass, and some creep getting the pants scared off him; nicely done
However, there are a few things that did throw me off a bit. For one, tone back on the flowery writing. I know we're all tempted to write like the classic literary greats, but it really seems unnecessary here, and comes off as you doing it simply for the sake of doing it. Second, dialogue lines should be on their own. It helps to separate it out as dialogue, plus it won't get lost in the paragraph. Turning this:

She tilted her head to the side in response, and her smile grew wider and wilder. She made a vague gesture towards herself. “Who me? Name’s Sunset Shimmer.” In the next instant, she was right up in his face, crouched over him as he cowered in the lamplight. He let out a little screech and tried to scramble away, but Sunset grabbed him by the front of his shirt, pinning him in place. “Hey. No running. Hey.” She gave him a rather hard shake. “Look at me.”

Into this:

She tilted her head to the side in response, and her smile grew wider and wilder. She made a vague gesture towards herself.
“Who me? Name’s Sunset Shimmer.”
In the next instant, she was right up in his face, crouched over him as he cowered in the lamplight. He let out a little screech and tried to scramble away, but Sunset grabbed him by the front of his shirt, pinning him in place.
“Hey. No running. Hey.” She gave him a rather hard shake. “Look at me.”

Much cleaner, don't you think. Also, don't forget dialogue tags to indicate who's speaking; keep in mind though, if it's a conversation, you only need to clarify who is speaking once (if it's two characters) and make sure that if you change the order of who is speaking, you let the reader know. If it's more that two characters, then you might need to use dialogue tags a bit more than usual.
Like I said, consider me intrigued. I'll be keeping an eye on this one