The Ghost Of Me

by Bluecatcinema

Chalk Outline

"So you've actually kept Pike around all this time?" Fletcher frowned. "Why?"

"Because he's proven to be useful." Black answered. "And not just because he finally opened up about the Forefathers..."

"Still, keeping the poor guy locked up for all these years..." Caboose frowned, "That seems a tad cruel."

"Except he's not." Black declared, pushing the button to open the cell. "For a while now, he's been free to come and go whenever he pleases."

"Uh... excuse me?" Fletcher gaped.

"Oh, yeah." Pike nodded, as he stepped out of the cell. "Truth is, I actually got used to that little thing, so I convinced the guys to make it into my own personal little workshop."

"But why are you still here, when you can just leave?" Caboose frowned. "I mean, I'm no woodcutter or anything, but I can think of a better workroom than a prison."

"Ooh, that's kind of a long story." Pike declared.

"And telling it right now would mean getting ahead of ourselves." Black added. "It's best we stay on track. No flash-forwards, cuz that would get confusing real fast."

"I agree." Fletcher nodded. "I hate when stories use that plot device. So infuriating..."

"Well, plot device aside, it wasn't long after we brought in Pike that things continued to spiral downwards..." Black declared.

Many years ago...

In spite of becoming the prisoner of the Royal Defense Legion and Taskforce Omega, Pike continued to resist any attempts at interrogation. Not even the beating he received from Ballista has done anything to damage his willpower.

"Hey, B." He smirked through his still-bruised face as Ballista entered the room, joined by Elite. "You missed me, huh?"

"In your dreams, ya-" Ballista growled.

"Ballista." Elite said flatly.

Ballista fell quiet, but still held his vicious glare at Pike.

"I see." Pike smirked. "Big boss is here to make sure you don't blow your top again. Smart."

"We're not giving up, Pike." Elite declared. "Sooner or later, you will tell us about the Forefathers. Why not make it sooner? If you cooperate, we'll be sure to show leniency."

"A tempting offer." Pike whistled. "But like I said before, there is nothing I can say that will be of any use to you, so that's a 'no'."

"Lousy piece of scum." Ballista spat.

"Takes one to know one." Pike frowned.

"You're making this much hard than it has to be." Elite declared.

"Harder than when B went plum loco on me?" Pike sneered. "For a second there, I actually thought he'd beat me to death. I guess now I know why he's the one who came up with Project: Argo."

"If you know what's good for you, you won't mention that name again." Ballista growled. "Now talk!"

"Sorry, but the answer is still 'no'." Pike shook his head. "Hey, here's an idea: Why don't you just let Black give it a shot? He's the one you're grooming into a ready-made psycho soldier."

"Black's presence will not be necessary." Elite declared.

"Yeah, sure." Pike grinned. "Don't want me spilling the beans about what you've really got in store for him, huh? Good thinking. If he found out... well... he might just go and destroy the lot of you."

"Black would never do that." Elite frowned.

"Not so long ago, I'd think that too." Pike admitted. "But Black's changed since then. He's losing himself a little more with every passing day. Someday, pretty soon, he'll lose whatever shred of honor and nobility he has left. And then... well, you could say Project: Argo will finally be a success. But at what cost? A good stallion's soul?"

"Like you can talk about having a soul." Ballista spat.

"Hey, I'm not denying I've done some bad things." Pike declared. "But I never made some poor unwitting stallion into my personal attack dog. Kinda seems redundant too, considering you already have one of those..."

"Come on, Elite." Ballista sighed. "He's made it clear he's not talking today."

"Today, no." Elite nodded. "But after a few more days, who knows? Perhaps then, he'd be willing to share what he knows."

"I wouldn't hold your breath if I were you." Pike shook his head.

"We'll see..." Elite declared, as he and Ballista left.

"Stubborn little bugger, isn't he?" Ballista scowled. "He'll break sooner or later, though. Make no mistake about that."

Elite remained silent, reflecting on what Pike said.

'That fiend can't be right... can he?' He thought. 'Is Black doomed to lose himself, and become nothing but a psychotic thug? And if he ever finds out, I wouldn't blame him for turning on us. I can only hope that day never comes...'

Meanwhile, over at Infinity, Scalphunter was taking great pleasure in once again being the head of the Black Sheep.

"The dark times are over, fellas." He smirked. "No longer will we have Pike breathing down our necks, trying to teach us how to 'properly' slaughter ponies. I'll let you guys maim and murder in any way you want! Hell, we might get some mutilation and maimin' goin' on down in here!"

"Finally!" Sam smirked. "That Pike wuz really startin' to tweak my mustache!"

"Indeed." DeRose nodded. "His constant demands and general pushiness really got under my skin."

"He was getting soft, too." Reaper snorted. "I could tell. A pony as weak as him had no business leading us."

"Then it's a good thing he's gone now." Talbolt added.

"And with me back in charge, we'll be taking down Black for good soon enough, and mounting his head on our wall!" Scalphunter smirked. "Right, boys?"

The others' mood suddenly shifted.

"Yeah... I don't think so." DeRose declared.

"Nope..." Sam muttered.

"I hate to say it, but they're right..." Talbolt nodded. "The odds aren't in our favor."

"What?" Scalphunter frowned. "Come on, guys, we can do it! We don't need Pike to bring this asshole down!"

"Um, no offense, Scalphunter, but for all his failings, Pike had brains." DeRose pointed out. "How can you out-think Black when Pike couldn't?"

"I won't." Scalphunter smirked. "Because I'm not even gonna try."

"Pardon?" Talbolt frowned.

"You don't out-think a stallion like Black." Scalphunter declared. "You out-muscle him. We almost had Black before, remember?"

"Darn tootin'." Sam nodded.

"Though we did have a little extra help, if you'll recall." Talbolt noted.

"Well, I'm not asking Gridlock and his goons for back-up." Scalphunter snorted. "Besides, what I have in mind is just as good, and won't require us to make contact with those buckers."

"Which is?" Sam asked.

"Some good, old-fashioned weaponry." Scalphunter smirked. "I'll go right to Father, 'ask' him politely to have the armories and labs arm us with the best weapons we got, and then we can bring Black down once and for all!"

"Do you think he'll go for it?" Reaper asked, "The very reason we're the 'Black Sheep' is because Father did not care for us."

"Well, I hear he likes us a little bit." DeRose frowned.

"Yet we are near the lowest level on the totem pole that is the Forefathers." Talbolt rolled his eyes. "I think you'd be wasting your time, Scalp."

"Don't you worry, guys, Father will have to give us what we need." Scalphunter said confidently. "Trust me, he wants Black gone just as much as all of us do..." He then sneered. "I just gotta work my magic..."

A short while later, Scalphunter approached Father, who was seated alone in the Coils of the Ouroboros, a table before him. Normally, the areas was off-limits for those whom Father hadn't requested an audience with, but Scalphunter managed to slip past the guards with little trouble.

"...Scalphunter Insidious... I was not expecting you." Father mused, undeterred by Scalphunter's appearance.

"Sorry for barging in without an invite, sir." He announced with a small curtsy. "But I figure the Ouroboros wouldn't let me speak to you if I had asked them."

"I see. And I assume you have a matter that must be brought to my attention?" Father asked.

"Yes, sir." Scalphunter nodded. "I've come here to speak to you about a problem that has plagued you and the Forefathers for far too long. A weed that needs to be plucked. A pest that needs to squashed. A piece of filth by the name of-"

"Black Knight Paladin." Father finished.

"That's right, sir." Scalphunter said quickly. "I know me and the boys haven't had much luck in years, but now that I'm back in charge and Pike is gone, we are ready to put everything we have into ending him. We just need some extra firepower to finish the job. Once we have that, I swear we won't mess up and drag this thing out as long as Pike did."

"I see..." Father mused.

"So what do you say? You'll grant us the weapons we need to finish him?" Scalphunter smiled hopefully.

Father was silent for a moment... before shaking his head.

"On the contrary..." He sighed. "I want to announce this to the Ouroboros and the rest of the Forefathers, but since you are here... I am calling off the hunt for Black Knight Paladin."

"...What?" Scalphunter gaped. "But why?!"

"Because I believe Black Knight is no longer an issue... at least, an issue that requires further attention." Father declared.

"Are you serious?" Scalphunter snorted. "With all due respect, sir, Black has been nothing but a pain in our asses for years! In fact, he is the biggest 'issue' I think the Forefathers have ever had!"

"That I will not deny." Father admitted, resting his front legs' elbows on the table and putting his hooves together. "Black has proven himself a worthy adversary... a bit too worthy. And I fear that we have wasted enough resources trying to bring down this one stallion. I believe it would be far more profitable to just let him go about his business."

"'Profitable'?!" Scalphunter spluttered. "But he's taken down and killed so many of our operatives. He's even killed some of our best Black Sheep! We can't just-"

"We can and we should." Father said forcefully. "I am well aware of the ponies who have suffered at his hooves. Sand Dollar, Obadiah Stable, Sweet Tooth... he has even brought about the end of Mr. Dysley... and now, Pike Redfield is gone. And from what I have observed, it is abundantly clear that none of our operatives are a match for him. Not even Gridlock himself could avenge his failed project. And obviously, ganging up on him has born no fruit. With the Taskforce at his side, Black is untouchable..."

"So we're gonna just give up trying to kill him?" Scalphunter asked, dismayed. "Just let him carry on with meddling with the Forefathers?"

"For the time being, yes." Father said firmly. "I refuse to throw away any more of our ponies and resources chasing that meddler... and I will not tolerate anypony who refuses to obey my orders. Will that be a issue with you, Scalphunter?"

"...No, sir." Scalphunter sighed. As crazy as he was, he knew there was no arguing with Father, not if he ever wanted to breath fresh air again.

"...I know you are disappointed." Father declared. "But this is for everypony's own good. I cannot bear seeing any more of my sons throw their lives away just to bring down one stallion... but make no mistakes, in time, Black will face the consequences of his actions and get his just desserts."

"Well, you're the boss, I guess." Scalphunter murmured.

"Good." Father nodded. "Now, be sure to spread the word to the rest of the Black Sheep. They must all be made aware that Black Knight Paladin is not to be engaged no matter the cost."

"I'll get the word out, sir." Scalphunter nodded.

"Thank you." Father smiled under his hood. "And in return, I might just arrange for some new weapons for you after all."

"Thank you, sir." Scalphunter bowed. "That's very gracious, sir."

"In spite of your... less than stellar record, Scalphunter, especially concerning the Black Sheep, you have been a loyal servant to the Forefathers." Father declared. "And I always reward loyalty."

"I live to serve." Scalphunter bowed. "Now, if you'll excuse me, sir..."

Scalphunter made to leave.

"Oh, and Scalphunter?" Father called out.

"Yes, Father?" Scalphunter glanced back.

"...Do try to handle your responsibilities as leader of the Black Sheep better this time." Father sighed. "I do not wish to see a repeat of what happened before Pike came along."

"That was years ago." Scalphunter retorted. "I was young and foolish back then."

"Let us hope you are not just foolish now..." Father mused.

"Good one, sir." Scalphunter said awkwardly. "But seriously, I won't make any mistakes like that again."

"See that you don't." Father declared.

With one last bow, Scalphunter left the room, and quickly returned to the others, and broke the news. The rest of the Black Sheep reacted in the same way.

"You can't be serious." Talbolt scowled.

"After all the trouble that varmint gave us, Father wants us to just let 'im go?" Sam snarled.

"I'm afraid so." Scalphunter sighed.

"But that's insane!" Reaper snarled.

"Well, it's Father's will, guys." Scalphunter declared. "To argue with him would be to argue with Faust herself. We'd have to be crazier than we already are to mess with him."

"That is a good point." DeRose admitted. "When Father speaks, we listen."

"Too bad." Reaper scowled. "I was really hoping to end Black one of these days..."

"Yeah, me too." Scalphunter agreed. "Well, I've gotta get the word out to our foreign operatives: Black Knight Paladin is off limits. Hardest sentence I'll ever have to say..."

Back at the Taskforce headquarters, Elite and Ballista were in Elite's office, reeling from yet another fruitless interrogation. Black walked by, catching their conversation from behind the door.

'Those two have been having a lot of private talks lately.' Black mused. 'Wonder what's going on?'

"Ballista, I think we have a problem." Elite said suddenly.

"You're buckin' right we do." Ballista snorted. "That blighter's still not telling us a thing."

'Pike, Pike, Pike...' Black thought. 'They should just let me try. Last time, Pike couldn't stop talking to me about his secrets.'

"I'm not talking about Pike." Elite frowned. "I'm talking about Project: Argo."

'Project: what?' Black frowned.

"What about it?" Ballista asked.

"I don't believe we should have Black be part of the project anymore." Elite sighed.

'Me?' Black thought. 'Why am I a part of something I've never heard of before?'

"This again?" Ballista sighed, "Pike is just talking out his own ass!"

'Pike? How does he fit into this?' Black frowned.

"Is he really?" Elite challenged. "Ballista, Black has already given up so much for us... would it really be right to keep him in the program?"

"Of course it is! Black did do a lot for us, that is true... but doesn't change what he is!" Ballista protested.

'What I am?' Black thought in confusion.

"What exactly is he, Ballista?" Elite glared. "Because before he met us, he was a soldier who was ready to give everything to the cause. He had his brother, his friends, and his home. He could have lived a normal life... but now, he has none of that... and we are grooming him to be something he shouldn't be!"

"But I keep tellin' ya, he was a perfect subject!" Ballista insisted. "A stallion with all the hallmarks of borderline sociopathy, but still managing to cling onto duty and determination! He was the best candidate for the job! All this time, he's been living up to my expectations. A sociopath after my own heart!"

Black stepped back a bit, stupefied.

'Me... a sociopath?' Black gaped.

"So you keep saying." Elite frowned. "But he is only this way because I dragged him into our world."

"And I keep telling you that he was going to become this no matter what. That's how sociopathy works, Elite." Ballista sighed. "Sure, they start out okay, and they seem perfectly normal... but then, as quoted by that one freaky clown... all it takes is one bad day. And then we have a madpony on our hooves. Trust me, this is what's best for Black."

"Well, considering you're not a qualified psychologist, I think I might refute that just a little..." Elite frowned.

"Tell me I'm wrong." Ballista dared him. "Tell me Black isn't one of the toughest, coldest stallions around. Tell me that in all our years of leading this Taskforce, that Black hasn't single handily dismantled many of the Forefathers' operations, much more than we did without him. Tell me that this would have been so if he wasn't a sociopath, a killing machine?" Ballista then leaned back. "Well, tell me."

"I... well, I suppose you do have a point there." Elite admitted weakly.

Black had heard enough. He walked away from the door, in total shock.

'...Is that why Elite recruited me? Because they believe I'm a killer in the making?' Black thought, horrified. 'No... that can't just be it, can it? I was a good soldier. I kicked major flank. I protected Equestria, and had fun doing it. I took on all those Black Sheep. I took 'em out before they could hurt innocents. It felt so good, doing my duty. Breaking those scumbags' bones. Feeling their blood splattering on me... Wait, I actually did enjoy beating them to a pulp. I enjoyed their pain, their screams of anguish. It was... fun to me.' The stark realization hit him like a ton of bricks. 'No. No, no, no. It can't be true...'

As Black walked sullenly down the corridor, he crossed paths with Armory.

"Hey, Black." Armory smiled.

"Yeah, hey..." Black sighed.

"...What's wrong, Black?" Armory asked.

"Nothing." Black sighed as he continued walking. "I just need some time to think..."

'Think?' Armory thought. 'That doesn't sound like Black at all...'

Black entered his quarters, dropping down on the bed. He pulled out his tape player, and played another song from Rookie's mixtape.

I've been cursed
I've been crossed
I've been beaten by the ones that get me off
I've been cut
I've been opened up
I've been shattered by the ones I thought I loved

You left me here like a chalk outline
On the sidewalk waiting for the rain
To wash away
(Wash away)
You keep coming back to the scene of the crime
But the dead can't speak and there's nothing left to say anyway
All you left behind
Is a chalk outline

I've been cold
In the crypt
But not as the cold as the words across your lips
You'll be sorry baby
Some day
When you reach across the bed where my body used to lay

You left me here like a chalk outline
On the sidewalk waiting for the rain
To wash away
(Wash away)
You keep coming back to the scene of the crime
But the dead can't speak and there's nothing left to say anyway
All you left behind
Is a chalk outline
All you left behind
Is a chalk outline

(All you left behind...)

You left me here like a chalk outline
On the sidewalk waiting for the rain
To wash away
(Wash away)
You keep coming back to the scene of the crime
But the dead can't speak and there's nothing left to say anyway
All you left behind
Is a chalk outline

'Is this truly what they wanted from me from the beginning?' Black thought sadly. 'All this time, I thought Elite brought me in because I was one of the best soldiers around, that I had skills and strength that could help protect Equestria! But no... he only wanted me because I'm... I'm...' Black brought his hooves to his head. '...And what Ballista said... he's right... so was Pike... I have changed... all this time, these fits of rage... this was what they were talking about...'

Black lowered his hooves and clenched one of them...

'Is that what it means to be one of them? Like Sweet Tooth? Like Reaper? Like Pike? To be so disconnected from all thoughts except bloodlust and rage? To want nothing but to kill? Elite and Ballista wanted me to become this? So they could... use me? Like an attack dog? A rabid animal, to be let off his leash whenever they pleased? No... no...' His teeth clenched as rage began to consume him. 'NO!'

Black jumped off the bed, enraged.

'They used me all along!' He thought, pacing frantically. 'Made me their attack dog, while making me think they wanted me for my skills, and dedication. It was all a lie! A lie I gave up everything for. White, Belle... everything!'

Black, embittered by the deception, slammed his hooves into the wall. He started whimpering in his anguish, though his eyes remained cold and angry.

'I thought they were my friends.' He seethed. 'Especially Elite. I respected him, but clearly, he didn't respect me enough to tell me the truth...'

In his melancholy, Black begun to reflect on all the missions he had been on since he joined the Taskforce. Every victory, every defeated villain, every saved life... as he reflected on them, he had begun to realize...

Each and every time he had gone out there, the day was always won thanks to his ferocity and his brutality. He recalled how good it felt to use those things, to make his foes suffer, to see the fear in their eyes as he unleashed his full, unstoppable strength against them, and slowly beat them into submission, their bones breaking, their bodies bruising. It was barbaric, inequine even. Most ponies wouldn't agree with these tactics... but he didn't care... in the end, it just felt... good.

Black's whimpers faded away... as suddenly, he started laughing.

"HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!!" He cackled madly, bordering close to insanity... before shifting his face to a dark grin.

'...Maybe this isn't so bad after all...' Black mused, glancing at his hooves, as he envisioned blood on them both, fresh from beating ponies to death. 'It's not like I haven't been doing a good job so far. Tearing down Forefather agents one by one, bringing down the Black Sheep, murdering them all in the name of Equestria...' Black let out another small chuckle. 'Well, I guess I am a sociopath after all. Perhaps it's best not to fight it. Instead of playing the hero... I will play the monster... sounds reasonable enough.'

Black then began to leave the room, the disturbing grin not leaving his face.

'Well, Elite? You want me to be a monster? Then a monster I shall be.' He thought darkly.

A few days later, Black was called in to Elite's office.

"What's up, boss?" He asked. "Got a job that only a stallion like me can do?"

Elite frowned for a brief moment, Black's tone of voice concerning him.

"As a matter of fact, I do." He nodded. "We've recently received intel that the Russiaddllen mob has gained a new don: One Crowe Darkside, who has taken the position from his recently deceased father."

"You want me to take down a don?" Black asked. "Ooh, that's a new one."

"Not exactly." Elite declared, becoming more concerned. "Your target is Crowe's uncle, Lazarević Darkside. We've heard from a reliable source that he is one of the Black Sheep. Since Pike isn't feeling particularly chatty yet, I'm hoping you could bring us Lazarević, and we can see if he won't be more talkative."

"Sounds good to me." Black smirked.

"Excellent." Elite smiled. "A boat has already been arranged to take you to Russiaddle. And Master Mind will provide you with a list of operations headed by Lazarević. He's bound to be at any one of those."

"Consider it done." Black smiled.

"Just be careful, Black." Elite urged. "You've never gone this far afield before."

"Hey, stuff like this is what you hired me for, right?" Black grinned.

"..Yes, it is." Elite sighed. "Good luck any way."

"Like I'll need it..." Black smirked.

Black left the room, the same unnerving grin on his face.

"What is going on with you, Black?" Elite frowned. "Maybe Pike's right, and you are losing yourself... I hope not."

Black reached Russiaddle a few days later. After docking in Moscolt, he made his way into the city, his armor concealed under snow clothing.

"Huhhhh..." He shivered despite his coverings. "Buckin' freezin' up here."

Black made his way to the industrial part of the city, sticking to the shadows, not drawing attention to himself. He took a look at the list Master Mind had given him.

'Okay, so this scum's got himself a couple of sweatshops, some drug dens, and even... pony trafficking?' Black grimaced in disgust. 'Slimeball. Interrogation's too good for him...'

According to Master Mind's note, the pony trafficking ring was Lazarević's largest operation, so Black surmised it would be the best place to start looking. The ring's main operations was located inside a warehouse on the eastern side of the city. Black made his way over there, climbing on top of the building and slipping in through a roof hatch.

Once inside, he was surprised by what he saw. Not because it was inequine, but because there was actually so little going on. There was only a small group of ponies, all locked in cages. The rest of the building seemed deserted.

'Well, well.' Black thought, as he quietly climbed down the rafters. 'Guess pony trafficking isn't so popular these days...'

As Black made his way onto the balcony, he spotted his quarry: Lazarević Darkside. He had a black coat, bald head, dark purple eyes, and a combat knife Cutie Mark. Most of his body was covered by a jacket with various ammunition attached. He was surrounded by a half-dozen flunkies.

'Target acquired.' Black smirked, as he slowly closed in on him.

As he got closer, Black caught their conversation.

"Sir, are you sure we should be doing this?" One of the henchponies asked.

"Oh, I'm sure, alright." Lazarević growled. "There are still clients out there in need of cheap labor... among other things."

"But Crowe ordered this operation downsized." The henchpony pointed out.

"I'm aware of that, thanks." Lazarević spat. "That little punk. Who does he think he is?"

"Um... the don?" The henchpony answered.

"Only thanks to me." Lazarević snarled. "I'm the one who helped the kid take out his father! I suffered as his right hoof pony for years. Figured things'd be better if I just offed him and let Crowe take charge." He grit his teeth. "But I was wrong. That little ingrate didn't give me any sort of thanks. I should have been his number two, but instead, he just pushed me aside. Worse, he started dismantling all my big operations. Sure, he claims that they're not 'cost-effective' any more, but I know he's just trying to take everything from me."

'Trouble in paradise, huh?' Black smirked.

"I-I'm sure Crowe isn't being intentionally malicious, sir." The henchpony quivered, unnerved by Lazarević's anger. "You are family, after all."

"Not for much longer." Lazarević smirked. "If Crowe won't give me my dues, I'll just take them." He mentally added 'And his life into the bargain.' He then blared out "Now get back to work!"

'That's my cue.' Black thought.

Black fired some sedative bolts at Lazarević's minions, knocking them out.

"What the-?!" Lazarević yelped. "What's going on?"

"I am." Black stepped out of the shadows. He fired regular bolts at the cages, breaking the padlocks. "Time to go."

The former prisoners fled in a hurry as Lazarević glared wickedly at Black.

"It's such a shame that your nephew has been downsizing your operations." Black mocked. "A guard or two might have come in handy to round up all those prisoners of yours."

"Hmph, the famous Black Knight Paladin." Lazarević frowned. "We meet at last."

"Let me guess, the Black Sheep told you all about me." Black snorted.

"Oh, yes." Lazarević nodded. "They know all about you. They're even a little afraid of you."

"Afraid?" Black frowned, though in his twisted mind, he was elated.

"Yeah, they've even been spreading the word among the Forefathers, telling everypony to stay the Tartarus away from you, or else be punished by Father." Lazarević declared, before shrugging. "But since you came to me, I suppose I haven't broken any edicts."

"Not that I care either way." Black smirked. "I've been sent to bring you in, Darkside. Please do me a favor and resist."

"With pleasure!" Lazarević pulled out an automatic crossbow, firing in a wide spread at Black.

"Not bad." Black sidestepped and rolled through the barrage. "But not good enough."

"Oh, I've got plenty more." Lazarević pulled out a knife. "Allow me to cut to the chase!"

Lazarević swung the knife at Black. His first swing actually nicked Black, to his annoyance.

"Okay, that's enough playing around." Black snarled, pulling out a knife of his own. "Time to get serious!"

Black's blade clashed with Lazarević's, before Black flipped it out of his hoof. He then jabbed his into Lazarević's shoulder.

"Agh!" Lazarević grunted. "You rotten..."

Lazarević headbutted Black, sending him reeling.

"That's it." Black spat. "Now you really feel the pain!"

Black headbutted Lazarević, then punched him right in the knife wound.

"Arrrrgh!" Lazarević yelped in agony.

"Ya like that, huh?" Black grabbed Lazarević by the head, and slammed it into the side of one of the empty cages.

"Stop... Do you know... who I am?" Lazarević grunted as Black continued the beating.

"Yep." Black nodded. "Just one more scumbag for me to pound. That's the whole reason I'm in this business, if you wanna know the truth."

Lazarević kicked Black back with his lower hooves.

"Still got some fight in ya, huh?" Black smirked. "I like that."

Black tackled Lazarević to the ground, and began pounding into him.

"No more..." Lazarević grunted, as the beating took it's toll.

"Hey, I'm just doing my job." Black chuckled madly. "Not my fault if I'm so good at it!"

Black pounded away at Lazarević, lost in a red fog of euphoria. After what seemed like no time at all, the fog faded, and he realized in shock that he had beaten Lazarević to death.

"...Oh buck." Black gasped, as he glanced at his bloodied hooves. "I was supposed to take this bucker in alive..." He then gave a shrug. "Ah, well. Nothing I can do about it now except get the buck outta here..."

Black left the warehouse as quickly as he could. His thoughts revolved less around the accidental murder, and more around what he would tell the others.

'Don't want them knowing I know about their little project.' He thought. 'Gonna have to come up with something a little less messy...'

A short while later, on the west side of Moscolt, a gruff stallion entered into a room, where a young Crowe Darkside was standing.

"Sir, I have some bad news." He announced.

"I swear to Faust, if the Steeranko branch messed up another delivery..." Crowe scowled.

"It's not that, sir." The stallion shook his head. "It's your uncle."

"Uncle Laz?" Crowe frowned. "What about him?"

"...He's dead, sir." The stallion admitted.

"What?" Crowe gaped. "Dead? Really?"

"I'm afraid so." The stallion sighed. "We found his body inside one of our warehouses. From the looks of things, he was beaten to death."

Crowe was silent for a moment. Then...

"...Oh well. You win some, you lose some." Crowe shrugged.

"...Okay, sorta thought you would be more pissed." The stallion mused.

"Oh please." Crowe snorted. "Me and Uncle Laz hadn't even so much as spoken before we conspired to murder my father. Not even a Faust damn Потепление пода в card. As much as I hated my father, Laz was just as bad as he was, and after we murdered that draft horse, he outlived his usefulness real quick."

"Wow... I... I'm sorry, sir. I had no idea." The stallion frowned.

"Forget about it." Crowe sighed. "Either way, I know for a fact that Lazarević has been working behind my back on operations I've personally ended, and maybe intended to off me and take control of my mafia empire for himself. I was actually going to put a hit out on him... but since some anonymous thug already did that, that's blood money I don't have to shell out. Whoever did him in... I owe him or her a 'thank you'."

"But, er... what about the operations he was in charge of?" The stallion asked.

"That won't be a problem." Crowe shrugged. "I was downsizing most of 'em anyway. I'll just get one of my lieutenants to take care of what's left. At least I know I can trust them not to betray me."

"Good thinking, sir." The stallion nodded. "Also, you got a message from Grimoire Napoleon. He needs a little help with some under-the-counter imports. Says he'll happily cut you in for fifty percent."

"Good ol' Grim, always playing it fair." Crowe smiled. "Tell him I'll be right there. And tell him I'll be bringing some borscht for Caboose. I know he loves that stuff."

"As you wish, sir." The stallion nodded.

"The Napoleons... now there's a family I can trust." Crowe grinned.

A couple of days later, Black returned to headquarters, where Armory, Elite, and Ballista were waiting for him.

"Welcome back, Black." Armory smiled.

"Good to see you back in one piece." Elite declared.

"Thanks, boss." Black grinned.

"Hold on... where's Darkside?" Ballista asked.

"Dead." Black said flatly, "And rotting back in Moscolt."

"...What? How?!" Armory gaped.

"Well, I confronted him right in the heart of his operation." Black announced. "We went at it for a while. But when he realized he couldn't win, he tried to run. Then the clumsy idiot tripped down some of those old-timey metal stairs. Wound up breaking nearly every bone in his body. He was a total bloody mess by the time he hit bottom."

The three stared at him...

"That's... a shame." Elite declared. "Lazarević could have provided us with much valuable information."

"Guess we're just gonna have to keep trying with Pike." Ballista shrugged.

"Yeah, you do that." Black nodded with a oddly cocky grin. "As for me, I'm gonna grab some shut eye. Catch ya later."

After Black walked away, Armory turned to Elite and Ballista.

"...Neither of you bought that, right?" He asked.

"Nope." Ballista growled. "Fell down some stairs... That's the oldest lie in the book..."

"Dammit..." Elite groaned. "I should have had one of the others go with him."

"No... we should have told him about Project: Argo." Armory glared.

"No, we shouldn't." Ballista growled. "He's better off not knowing for now."

"No, he's better off not being involved in your pet project at all!" Armory yelled. "Why can't you see that, you-"

"Watch your tone, mate." Ballista snarled. "And remember your place."

"I know my place." Armory declared. "And my place is by Black's side. I'm his friend, and I don't want this for him. If you ask me, you should put an end to this whole twisted project, for Black's sake."

"And then what?" Ballista snorted. "He'd have nothing, that's what. With everything Black's lost, he'd be better off having a real purpose. Having nothing but the fight to focus on. No emotions, no pain, nothing."

"So you just want him to be a puppet instead of a pony?" Armory scowled. "Just a mindless weapon? He doesn't deserve that kind of shabby treatment!"

"Armory, maybe you should calm-" Elite started.

"And you!" Armory yelled at him. "How could you possibly think any of this is okay? Using Black as nothing but some mindless thug, encouraging him to fall into madness... How?!"

"I know it looks bad, Armory." Elite started. "But-"

"No. I don't want to hear your twisted rationales." Armory turned away. "So I'll just leave."

Armory began storming out of the room.

"If you were a real leader, maybe you'd see Black as more than just a project." He told Elite. "But it seems you're not. Maybe someday, you'll wise up, and actually do the right thing..."

As soon as Armory was out of the room, Ballista let out a snarl.

"The nerve of that gearhead." Ballista growled. "Telling us to shut down the project after all the hard work we put into it."

"'We'?" Elite grunted, "Don't you mean 'you'?"

"What is that supposed to mean?" Ballista frowned at Elite.

"I think you know full well." Elite glared, before sighing. "By the day, Project: Argo is becoming more and more problematic. And after what Black did today, I... I don't know if I can allow this to continue."

"Come on, Elite, don't you start." Ballista glowered. "You're letting what Armory and Pike say get to you. Don't forget what we are doing this for."

"For the sake of Equestria. I haven't forgotten... but neither have I forgotten whose life we are destroying so we can protect her... I don't want Black to become like those Black Sheep, just for the sake of security." Elite pledged.

"And he won't." Ballista insisted. "Because he will be on the side of good. And when Project: Argo is ready to go, the Forefathers will soon meet their end, and we can finally put an end to 'Father' once and for all. We would be saving millions upon millions of lives... all that for the mental health of one stallion doesn't sound like a bad trade, right?"

"I believe after everything we've been through together, you would know the answer to that." Elite said grimly. "I want nothing more than to stop the Forefathers... but I feel like things are just going to get worse, and in the end, we will have accomplished nothing but destroy a stallion for no good reason."

"You don't know what you're talking about." Ballista sneered. "There's nothing to worry about. Trust me."

"I want to believe that, Ballista..." Elite declared. "...But now, I don't know what to believe..."

"Believe in the mission." Ballista urged. "And believe that Black can and will do his part."

"Even if his part to be a mindless berserker?" Elite asked.

"He doesn't seem too mindless right now." Ballista declared. "Besides, so what if some of the Forefathers' lackies are killed by him? Scum like that has it coming anyway."

"I don't know if I'd subscribe to that philosophy." Elite frowned.

"Hey, they made the decision." Ballista sneered. "They chose to be scum. And Black chose to fight them. And fight them he will. Even if it takes a thousand missions."

'That's actually what I'm worried about.' Elite thought. 'With each mission, Black seems to be losing a little more of himself. How many more missions before he goes over the edge, and beyond the point of return?'

The present...

"So, hold up... you were the one who killed Lazarević?" Caboose gaped. "I heard from Crowe once that his uncle had been killed, but I always thought it was by some cop or rival crook."

"A lot of ponies did." Black admitted. "The guy had a lot of enemies, so they just pinned his death on one of them."

"Lucky for you, eh?" Fletcher mused.

"Yeah, lucky." Black snorted.

"Another Black Sheep, taken down by the unstoppable Black Knight Paladin." Pike declared. "I'll bet that put a twist in my former employers' horseshoes."

"Still, I ultimately regretted what I had done that day." Black admitted. "Lazarević was the first pony I killed just for the fun of it, a death that should have been avoided. But I didn't care... for all I knew, I was doing what I thought Elite and Ballista expected of me, and... I just went along with it. I figured they wouldn't care if they had learned the truth."

"I can't say I agree with that line of thinking." Fletcher frowned.

"Yeah, it's kinda messed up." Caboose agreed. "Not quite 'dating somepony from Jersaddle' messed up, but right up there with it."

"...It was a very dark time for me." Black sighed, "I was starting to become really messed up in the head... and it would only get worse from there."

"I'm assuming this is about the part where Red Eclipse comes in?" Fletcher asked.

"Oh, yeah." Black nodded. "The moment my life really went down the tubes. And to put it bluntly... a whole lot of bad stuff went down.."

Author's Note:

"Chalk Outline" belongs to Three Days Grace.

Comments

[Vakama95096]

So, this is it? Red Eclispe is born

[Turbo the Brony]

Each and every time he had gone out there, the day was always won thanks to his ferocity and his brutality. He recalled how good it felt to use those things, to make his foes suffer, to see the fear in their eyes as he unleashed his full, unstoppable strength against them, and slowly beat them into submission, their bones breaking, and their bodies bruising. It was barbaric, inequine even. Most ponies wouldn't agree with these tactics... but he didn't care... in the end, it just felt... good.
Black's whimpers faded away... as suddenly, he started laughing.
"HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!!" He cackled madly, bordering close to insanity... before shifting his face to a dark grin.
'...Maybe this isn't so bad after all...' Black mused, glancing at his hooves, as he envisioned blood on them both, fresh from beating ponies to death. 'It's not like I haven't been doing a good job so far. Tearing down a Forefather agent one by one, bringing down the Black Sheeps, murdering them all in the name of Equestria...' Black let out another small chuckle. 'Well, I guess I am a sociopath after all. Perhaps it is best to not fight it. Instead of playing the hero... I will play the monster... sounds reasonable enough.'
Black then began to leave the room, the disturbing grin not leaving his face.
'Well, Elite? If you want me to be a monster, Elite? Then a monster I shall be.'

My ideal music for that moment (pretty much gives me the jibbies...)

We're nearly there, almost to the point of coming full circle...

[danick]

7532487 I still need to play this game

[Grekoy]

"I wouldn't hold your breath if I were you." Pike shook his head.
"We'll see..." Pike declared, as he and Ballista left.

Elite.