The Mare and Her List

by Neon Czolgosz

Once Upon a Time in Dodge Junction

The bar, the place that was a bar, goes drip, drip. Spilled ale drips, drip, drip onto the floor. The soda gun, swinging off the hook, drips, drip, drip into the gutter. The pony that was the bartender, splayed out across the bar, drips, drip, drip onto Bakewell.

All Bakewell had wanted was a quiet drink in his new town. That had been two hours ago. Now, Bakewell whimpers as he cradles his broken leg. He listens to the soft, incoherent moans of Shady Skies, and he prays that the thing that is not a unicorn, the thing that cannot be a unicorn, will not notice him.

The thing that is not a unicorn walks into the place that was a bar, under a thick, dusty coat and a dark leather hat, carrying a musical instrument case. She sits down at the bar, brushes her badly-dyed blue hair from her eyes and places her instrument case, which looks almost like a squashed guitar case with the neck cut off, onto the bar. The patrons give her uneasy glances, and the bartender asks her name. She does not reply. He asks what she plays.

That is a mistake

Bakewell is alive. Shady Skies is alive. The thing is alive, if it can truly be called living. Whiskey the bartender is dead. The Pear twins are dead. Mulekick is dead. The sheriff and his two deputies are dead. Gonzo is dead. Dale is dead. The thing moves towards Shady.

Shady Skies does not move, he can only squirm. He has a hole in his gut, seeping thick blood, and two holes just like it in his hind kneecaps. He can only squirm as the thing that is not a unicorn takes a pool cue and spreads his wings straight out across it, then tapes the wings securely in place with sticky, silver tape. He can only squirm as he is hauled, like a pony on a crucifix, over to the one remaining table in the place that was a bar. Bakewell can see everything. He prays the thing does not notice him.

Their faces change ever so quickly as the thing that is not a unicorn flips open her lyrist's case, and reveals the arsenal inside. Bemusement changes to horror as she levitates two revolvers in the air. Whiskey, the only sober pony, is first to go for his weapon. If he grabs his shotgun, if he is fast enough, he will survive. He is not fast enough.

The thing that is not a unicorn towers over Shady Skies, who can only squirm, and speaks. "I heard a fairy-tale once," she says, not in the voice of a cruel hitman or savage drifter, nor one of the cruel pit-fiend Bakewell knows she must be, but a clean, educated, almost friendly one. It speaks of music lessons, forty hour weeks and perfectly ordinary ambitions.

"I heard a fairy-tale once," she repeats, "About a happy mare who had married a fair stallion and was a successful merchant. She left town on business one day, and whether from jealously or pure spite, another merchant decided she would ruin the happy mare's life. The happy mare returned a month later to find her store looted and burned, her name slandered and her precious lover dead. She could find no justice, for the authorities had been turned through bribes and blackmail, her friends had been turned against her and other merchants would not risk their reputations by associating with her."

Whiskey the barpony does not have to worry about the revolvers; they are not for him, and in three quick flashes the sheriff and his deputies lay dead. His eyes are drawn to the revolvers, all deafening thunder, gleaming under the dull light of the bar. He does not see the bottle shatter in the pale green glow of unicorn magic. Before he even touches the shotgun, the bottle drives into his throat.

The Pear twins have watched action movies, and they flip over a table for cover. Two shots pass straight through it and end them both. Another shot kills Gonzo. Dale draws, but fumbles and takes a bullet in the eye. Mulekick actually gets off a shot, but it goes wide, and takes the shocked Bakewell's chair out from under him. Bakewell's leg folds with a sickening crump. One shot takes out Mulekick's left front leg, and another rips through his neck.

Shady Skies has a chance to draw. He might even have a chance to hit. But he looks into the things face; stares into her eyes. This is a mistake. It earns him two bust kneecaps and a hole in his gut.

Shady continues to squirm and Bakewell continues to pray and the thing that is not a unicorn continues to talk. "The mare quickly found out who plotted her downfall, but she couldn't merely find and kill her. The plotter had razed her life and salted the very ground it was planted on, and she had not done this alone. Everypony involved would have to face punishment." Her horn lights up and levitates three little candies over from her not-a-lyrist's-case; hard toffee sweets in blue and green wrappers. "The mare made a list of everypony involved, of everypony who helped the plotter ruin her life. They would all suffer or die one by one, the plotter saved for last, left to stew from the fear of the inevitable."

Shady can only squirm as the thing that is not a unicorn forces his mouth open, unwraps two of the candies, and shoves them between his back teeth; forcing his mouth wide open. "The guards who took bribes not to investigate. The thugs hired to kill her lover. The mayor, who told them where to find her lover, unarmed and defenceless. The editor, who slandered her. There were so many names on that list, I can barely list them..." She looks up and stares into the distance, a wistful little smile on her face.

"Oh, how could I forget," she says, unwrapping the last candy and levitating it over Shady's open mouth. "The errand-colt who took the blackmail threats from the plotter to the ponies."

She pushes the bon-bon into the back of his mouth, and keeps a hoof on his throat to stop him swallowing. Shady Skies can only squirm as he chokes. He lasts a minute. Bakewell sees everything. Only Bakewell and the thing that is not a unicorn are still alive. He shuts his eyes hard and prays she does not notice him. The thing makes little, clinking noises as she packs away her tools.

Bakewell knows from the steady clop, clop of hooves on the floorboard that his prayers went unanswered; the thing has noticed him. He opens his eyes to see her towering over him with half a pool cue, then his vision goes blank with blinding pain as his broken leg is wrenched terribly. He whimpers and sobs, and prays again that his death will not be drawn out like Shady's.

The thing stands up and the pain fades a little. Bakewell opens his eyes. All the thing had done was put his leg back in place. She was staring at him with a wan smile and tired, golden eyes. "I can't stay, but Doc Sawbones will be 'round here soon. Dodge Junction's a small town. He'll have heard the shots." Unicorn magic ruffles one of her pockets, and she takes out a few hundred-bit notes. "That should cover the bills, and a little more for your night out," she says, dropping the money in Bakewell's lap. With that, she turns to walk out.

Against all logic and survival instincts, Bakewell calls out to her, still reeling from shock. "Who- What are you?"

"I'm Lyra Heartstrings. And I've got a long fuckin' list."

Comments

[Dreamlike]

I'm s-so s-scared to start reading!

[aljada]

Lyra as Vengeance? Niice.
Although I'm pretty sure your throat would be hot enough to melt a bonbon enough for you to swallow it whole before you choked to death on it.

Maybe you could bake a mutant parasprite into a bonbon and watch your victim be eaten from the inside out. Imagine the facial expressions...

[sierra_seven_]

1159295 Parasprite eating somepony from the inside out?
t0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcSiBQJhVLHTwo4HmlT9okrCSMmYfw2LWJopzGcfQakG5a5S76yEOg
Challenge accepted.

[edensbane]

Well... I think theycallmejub will appreciate it. You've certainly hit that good old' fashion ultra violence.

Damn looking at both of your stories makes my little "dark" ideas just seem empty.

Good job with this one, I think it'll make all the other eyes without a face fans as happy as it did me

[aljada]

1159334
I wonder though, given their method of reproduction and an ample food source, if the parasprites would multiply enough to burst the victim's stomach before he or she had a chance to die from internal hemorrhage.

[sierra_seven_]

1159374 All I know is it would closely resemble a well-known scene from Alien

[epicdonus1123 BOT]

Dodge Junction, where have I heard that?

[theRedBrony]

Interfesting.

[Mr Ignorable]

Chuck, what the vaginas man.

[Your Antagonist]

Whoa, that was fucking solid. Just fucking solid. I can't even begin to explain how blown away I am by a story less than 1,500 words. Damn, this left a hollow feel in my gut. I want to see this finished, but that last line was powerful enough to give it closure.

[Neon Czolgosz]

1159272

Not scary, just a little bit of ultraviolence...

1159295

She had a hoof on his throat to stop him swallowing. Also, are we talking about the same sort of sweet here? In the UK bonbons are crazy-chewy, fruit flavoured toffees that take a good five minutes to chew through. They won't just melt, I can tell you that much.

1159367

Yay praise!

1159537

It's the place with the cherries.

1159724

I have made Mr Ignorable go "I can't even." I have not seen this happen before, and I'm not sure if this is good or bad...

1160283

More praise! Yeah, this was going to be part of a much bigger, alt universe thing (not technically an alt universe, but the fic would be set as a movie, with different ponies 'playing' rather than being their roles, and interviews with cast and director at the end) but I wanted this bit out and didn't fancy waiting months and months until all my projects are finished.

1160630

[Isseus]

So this is what I get for pushing that "Watch" button.

I wouldn't call this ultraviolence, though. It was so much milder than I expected. I mean... bullet wounds are hardly shocking anymore, and you skimped on the details. Seeing as how ponies have no supporting structure and function solely on high-pressure liquids (mostly tears) I would have expected some gushing, maybe spraying or splattering, or maybe even a geyser.

So BOO! MOAR GOAR! RAPE! PILLAGE! JAYWALKING!

Why let the narrator live, though. She had no qualms about offing the rest of the saloon. Were they in on the coup and had it coming? Some of them didn't even draw before getting shot, some even tried to flee or avoid fighting. Also how does Lyra know how to set a broken leg? She's a doc now?

You used the Tragedy tag? I seldom see the term used so aptly. I must confess I took satisfaction in reading the descriptions of suffering and pain, but I've always been a fan of avengers. Ever since I saw The Crow when I was a teen. Also the use of flashbacks was very appropriate for the style of narrative.

But choking a perp on a candy? That's a sweet way to go. I would maybe personally have described how Shady's last moments were a mixture of pain, panic, fading vision and a sugar high, but maybe that's not something you can do in a first person fic. Still, points for style. Should I be anticipation more of this, or are you actually going to write me more of The Pipster & Crew, or Lord forbid... Banisment Decree? Also you promised to write something about Scootaloo. Pony up, pops. Imma running out of Burn Notice soon.

[Neon Czolgosz]

1161386

Yup. Come for the dark comedy/comedy comedy, get random flash-fic instead

There were three reasons I didn't stick in much gore description. First, extra description would have slowed down the pacing, and I was very much aiming for a cold, efficient and brutally fast shootout. Second, by describing injuries where gore is inevitable with very little description of the actual gore, like glass to the neck or bullets to the kneecaps, the reader visualises gore both for those bits and for the other, unstated shots. I like to let the reader do my work for me. Third, this fic took 100 minutes, and was meant to take sixty. I need more time than that for effective gore.

Two possible interpretations of why she let the narrator live. My interpretation is Lrya knew the other ponies in the bar were Shady's associates, so she took them out both because they were dangerous and to make Shady fear her more. The other interpretation is she let him live so there would be somepony to tell the story...

Yup, tragedy tag. Hideously over and misused, but it's apt in this case.

But choking a perp on a candy? That's a sweet way to go.

I SEE WHAT YOU DID THERE!

No, this was pretty much a one-off one shot. I'm bashing out more Pip right now.

[Dreamlike]

1161030

Thank the stars...it wasn't as scary as I thought it'd be. Just a little Kill Bill style revenge.

Anyway, I've decided to hit the dusty trail on the motley crew for now. I figure the ol' get together could use some gettin' together.

[Neon Czolgosz]

1161665

Fantabulous. I've got about a page of your stuff edited, going slowly because I took a three-day break from all writing related activities this week. I'll send you bits back when I've stuff worth sending.

[Dreamlike]

1161679

That's cool. Take all the time you need. Meanwhile, I'll be gettin' it together. It won't happen here, like we discussed, but I'll send you an invitation if you like.

[Isseus]

1161705 You guys putting The Band back together?

[Dreamlike]

1161741
I'll neither confirm nor deny that statement.

[Dark Seraph]

Dear Celestia in heaven thats messed up.

Can we have some more?

[Fernin]

Nice. I can definitely see the influence of Eyes Without a Face.

[Solarius]

Mulekick is dead. The sheriff and his two deputies are dead. Gonzo is dead.

You son of a bitch, you killed my favourite muppet.

[Neon Czolgosz]

1992002

you owe me a new keyboard

[Solarius]

1992005

Drinking something, were we?

[Neon Czolgosz]

1992010

you owe me another can of coke too

[Solarius]

1992016

Sure, tell me your home address and I'l main you one.

[Celefin]

Hah, first comment in 140 weeks!
'Tis was good. Old but good. Nothing like a bit of methodical pony violence before bed.

[Neon Czolgosz]

6478246

Oh god, you found this mildly embarrassing relic. Hope it wasn't a total waste of your time...

[Celefin]

6478266 Heh. That's what you get for making good blog posts about the finer points of writing and editing. Someone may trawl through your story list and see what's down there in the depths... and I keep returning to do that anyways.
And no, it wasn't a waste of time, I found 100 minutes avenging angel Lyra quite enjoyable. Better than so much else I've read ;)