43: Cloudsdale
DATE: March 6th
LOCATION: Ponyville
[Perspective: False Front]
Alright...got the small flashlight thing...got the red bag of bandages...got the weird blue flute...wow, I really need to ask Arrell what these things actually are.
I continued to look down the inventory list. The guards didn’t know what to call the articles either, so they had just drawn a small sketch. It was my job to make sure they were all still there in Alterspace, and so I was looking through Arrell’s saddlebags with a purple cloth around my hoof to keep the articles from having any effect on me.
“...let me dry off first!”
“You can air dry while flying!”
I lifted my head towards the sound of voices, pausing with my hoof in the bag. From around the corner, Arrell dashed in, Asylum stumbling along behind him and looking soaking wet. How he wasn’t reacting to the way she looked, I wasn’t sure.
“Sorry False, I need this!” He grabbed the saddlebags, tossed them on, and ran out, dragging Asylum along with him. Within seconds, I heard the front door open and shut.
I blinked. ...what just happened?
[Perspective: Arrell]
“I hate Styx. So much.”
It took a long time, but finally, Asylum and I had reached Cloudsdale. I still couldn’t fly, so we had to take a hot air balloon. Needless to say, having to wait so long to arrive nearly made me even more insane than I normally was.
The two of us walked around, looking for anything suspicious. We didn’t have a lot of luck; mainly because neither of us knew exactly how to get around, so we ended up going in circles for a lot of the time.
“Arrell, sir!”
I turned my head at the sound of the voice. Two pegasus guards were coming our way, moving in perfect unison. That’s the military for you.
“Drop the ‘sir’. What is it?”
“We heard you were supposed to be resting,” one guard replied. “Is something the matter?”
“Not resting anymore. Got over it. And yes, something is the matter. I hear you’re on the lookout for a white hoodie?”
They both nodded before one spoke. “We didn’t think it was dangerous at first, but we just got word that a child was attacked and nearly killed last night. It seems too closely connected to be a coincidence.”
Asylum stepped forward. “Where is this child? We should have a talk with them...”
“His parents are refusing to let anypony speak with him. The incident has left him exceptionally paranoid and traumatized.”
I sighed. “Great. Our one lead and he needs four years of therapy before we can question him.”
“What about his parents? Could we talk to them?” Asylum asked, ignoring my remark.
The guards nodded, again simultaneously. “Come with us.” They turned and began walking off. I nodded to Asylum, and we followed.
He looked in the mirror.
The crazed face he had come to love looked back.
He kept smiling, even as he brought his knife up. Without any reaction whatsoever, he began to carve away at the skin around his mouth. Soon, he had a bloody smile etched permanently onto his face.
He giggled, tilting his head left and right. He never blinked; he had taken care of that problem already by burning out his eyelids. Now he could see his beautiful face forever, as bloody and scarred as it was.
Once more, he laughed, turning around. A full-grown stallion and mare were collapsed behind him, their stomachs and chests cut wide open and leaking major amounts of blood. They had stopped breathing long ago.
“You lied to me.” He stated this very plainly, then walked on past the corpses.
Pulling the hood of his new article of clothing up and over his mane, the psychotic pegasus hopped out an open window, spreading his wings and flying off.
Anypony who looked up to see him would never have noticed anything out of the ordinary. To them, he was just another pegasus pony out for a flight.
But he knew who he was.
And that was all that mattered.
[Perspective: Asylum]
“Oh dear...”
My eyes widened a bit when I saw the stab wound in the father’s shoulder. It was bandaged up, but the material still had obvious signs of bleeding underneath. The mother was physically unharmed, but she was shaking the entire time.
The father was a gray stallion; rather well-built, even if he looked a little weak right now. His head was bald, but he had a short black tail, right by his thought bubble cutie mark. The mother was a dark blue mare maybe half his size, with a long purple mane and a hair ribbon as her cutie mark.
He noticed my reaction and smiled weakly. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about it, miss.”
I gulped and nodded. “R-Right...sorry, um...” I trailed off, not knowing his name.
“Nucleus,” he finished for me. “And this is Pageant.” He indicated his trembling wife.
“It’s nice to meet you both.” I tried to smile. “I’m Asylum. This is Arrell. Sorry it couldn’t have been under better circumstances...”
I glanced around a bit as I said that. There were two guards standing outside the house, guarding the front door. A third was guarding the back door. There were another two wandering around the first floor of the house, and there was another upstairs.
All of this because of one little white hoodie...
“We’re fairly certain Drizzle - our son - will be fine,” Nucleus said. “He’s a tough kid...though I can definitely understand why this sort of thing would scare him.”
“So can I,” Arrell muttered. “How is he?”
“He won’t leave his room,” Pageant responded. “He keeps looking around as if something’s going to jump out at him...aside from that, he’s doing fine. He seems to think the entire incident was just a realistic nightmare.”
Arrell sighed. “It’s a nightmare alright. Frankly, I’m surprised he isn’t hiding under his bed.” He looked at Nucleus. “Did you happen to get a good look at the pony with the knife?”
He shrugged. “I was more focused on the knife itself. I know he had on a white shirt or something, and his body was either white or a light gray. I didn’t get a look at his cutie mark or mane.”
“White shirt...sounds about ri-” Arrell suddenly stopped mid-sentence and hissed in pain, grabbing his head. “Gah!”
My eyes widened. “Arrell?!”
He grunted in response. Nucleus and Pageant seemed similarly worried, though they appeared to be more confused than anything.
Finally, he seemed to fight through it. He turned to the parents again. “Drizzle’s room is upstairs, right?” They nodded. He turned to a guard. “How many guards are upstairs right now?”
“One,” the guard answered. “Stationed directly outside the child’s bedroom.”
“...outside his room?” His eye twitched.
“We thought it would be safe. The door is the only entrance, aside from the window, and the room is two stories off the ground.”
Arrell stood up and slapped the guard across the muzzle. “WE’RE IN CLOUDSDALE, YOU IDIOT! THE CITY FULL OF PEGASI! I DON’T CARE IF THE WINDOW’S FIFTY STORIES OFF THE GROUND, IT’S STILL EASY TO GET THROUGH!”
As if to punctuate that very sentence, a scream came from upstairs. Shoving the guard out of his way, Arrell bolted for the stairs, dipping his head into his saddlebags as he went.
I stood up quickly, turning to Nucleus and Pageant, who were about to get up. “Stay here.”
Nucleus glared. “My son is-”
“Sir, please sit down,” a second guard ordered as he came over. “The situation is under control.”
“Like Tartarus it is!”
I put a firm hoof on his shoulder and leaned down, getting right in his face. “You know that Windigo who just went upstairs?”
“Yeah?!”
“He fights armies when he should be in a coma. One pony with one knife is like breakfast to him.” I removed my hoof from his shoulder and began a quick trot to the stairs. “And I’d say he’s pretty hungry right now.”
[Perspective: Arrell]
Please, Styx, I know you hate me...but I’m begging you, please, please, PLEASE don’t let me be late!
I shoved past the guard in front of Drizzle’s room and slammed the door open, the handle of Bloodbath’s ax clutched in my maw. I glanced at the scene before me to determine if my prayers had been answered.
For once, they had.
Drizzle was backed up against the wall while on the bed as a freakish-looking pegasus pony loomed over him, knife in wing. Neither of them even had any time to turn and look at me before I pounced.
“GET AWAY FROM HIM, YOU SON OF A CHANGELING!” I jumped, swinging the ax down. I aimed correctly, landing the blade right between the two pegasi, cleaving the bed itself in half.
Drizzle screamed again while the pony in the hoodie jumped backwards. He giggled, and I turned to him with a glare. He apparently took this as the signal to attack, because he threw the knife at me.
I raised my hoof and caught it.
His smile faded momentarily. I was surprised myself; I didn’t think my reflexes were that good. But I wasn’t going to let this moment go by without taking advantage of it. Quickly, I stabbed the knife into the ground to keep it out of play, then hefted my ax up and jumped once more.
Once again, the pony got out of the way, but this time, he didn’t prepare for another attack. He jumped for the already open window and flew away.
“NO!” I shouted, running to the window. I silently cursed my inability to fly once again. A few flaps of his wings, and the pony was gone; camouflaged in the white clouds, likely making his way back to wherever he hid.
“Arrell!” Asylum ran into the room. “What happened?!”
“He’s on the run!” I shoved the ax back into my saddlebags. “We need to go after him!”
Her eyes widened. “What?! How? You can’t fly!”
I grit my teeth. “I know...but...we can’t let him...”
She shook her head. “He’s not gone, Arrell. He came here twice, he’ll be back a third time.”
“But...”
“No. I’m sorry, Arrell, but we can’t just blindly chase after him when you can’t even fly!”
I sighed. She was right, but I still hated it. I was so close to getting him, and he got away...
“The guards know what they’re doing,” she continued. “Let them guard the house. If he comes back, they’ll hold him until we can get here.”
“And what if they can’t? What if, next time, this guy comes back with even more weapons? Something better than just a kitchen knife?”
At that moment, one of the guards - who had apparently been watching us talk for the past bit - spoke up. “We’ve sent a request for backup to the princess. Our forces will be doubled at least.”
“Because I’m sure that a dozen Royal Guards can stop bucking Jeff the Killer!” I snapped.
SMACK!
“Arrell. Calm. Down.” Asylum glared at me, her eyes locked onto mine. “You don’t have to do everything.”
I was too stunned to reply. Occasional sparring matches aside, Asylum had never once tried to hurt me. “...but...”
SMACK!
“No! For once, you are going to step back and let the professionals handle something, okay?! The guards are trained for this sort of thing! All you know how to do is kill things!”
That one hurt. I winced, more from the comment than the slap. I glared back at her.
“When did I bring False along with me?” I asked coldly, heading for the door. I knew she was following me, unaffected by my sarcastic question. I sighed, wanting to scream, but I knew it'd be pointless.
Because I knew she had a point.
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Damn fucking Jeff The Killer. I just hope you don't bring along Mary Shaw and her dolls... (Dead Silence. Watch it and be scarred for life.)
3074675 ...I forget what argument this was. What was the context again?
3071913
Comment that implies facepalms and explains the sarcasm.
3074677
something about you saying that wikipedia says zero degrees kelvin may be absolute zero and that arrell would survive at that temp.
3074848 Oh. Well, if it was Arrell saying he could survive at that temperature, he was probably exaggerating his resistance to cold. Zero degrees Kelvin would likely actually freeze him in place because science, but anything above that, he'd be immune to.
3075009 Crossing the streams!
You should add the Hidden to this!
3075035 ...that is actually an awesome idea and I am going to do it.
3071873 Yeah, that's kind-of an important part.
3075039 YAY for inspiration when i was alomost asleep!
3076738
I feel sorry for you