Haunting The Zebra Plains

by Jest

Tangoing With The Shamanesses

“Spirit hear me and do not act, I come to you now to make a pact,” Zecora began anew, the young zebra approaching me with her pot filled with smoking fragrant herbs.

“What are you doing? What is all this? Incense?” I asked incredulously, glancing around in confusion.

“I am a shaman, sacred and holy, ready to bear my spirit wholly,” Zecora continued, stopping only when she was a foot or so away from me. “Head my words, head my rhyme, let us relax and undue this crime.”

“Crime?” I spat. “What this guy’s done is a crime and you want to defend him?”

I rolled my eyes in disgust.

“Why do I bother? You can't understand a word I say to you,” I muttered in annoyance.

“I may not understand your words that is true, but I still wish to bargain with you,” Zecora inquired.

“Bargain, understand… you know what I’m saying. At least a little bit of it anyway,” I murmured.

Zecora paused for a moment as if trying to decipher what I had said before nodding slowly.

“Of the truth you speak I acquire but a crumb, but I understand some while I speak with the drum,” Zecora added.

“Something to do with the rhyming and whatever else you got burning. Neat,” I muttered, mostly to myself.

“What are they saying? Why isn't she capturing that thing?” Lock whispered in a low tone.

“You have nothing to fear, we just wish to know why it is here,” Zedra replied.

“We know why it's here. Because it wants to kill me, it already killed my buddies!” Lock hissed back.

“Okay, I did not kill those guys. Probably,” I interrupted, pointing a finger at Lock. “They should just be convulsing on the ground back there. Unless they swallowed their tongue or something. Someone should probably check on them.”

“The spirit is restless and desires justice be done. Let its opinion not be shun,” Zecora exclaimed, shooting a brief look at Lock.

“Whatever just hurry up and kill it or whatever,” Lock dismissed.

“You are on these guy’s side, really? You seem to have some respect for others but they sure don't,” I proclaimed, gesturing to Lock and his still unconscious boss lying sprawled out on his desk.

“I don't know the injustices of which you speak, but um, you need not shriek,” Zecora murmured, her confidence waning.

“Hold the tone, and maintain the rhyme, if you need help remember the chime,” Zedra offered. “Zecora you are no foal, hold true to your goal.”

“Though I am small and I am weak, I urge you to tell me what you seek,” Zecora began again, her chest puffing out. “No matter if it is weird or strange, I promise to try and make an exchange.”

“I don't even know where to start with you people,” I exclaimed. “These guys are using you. Do you understand me? The ponies don't have your best intentions at heart and this guy is the worst of the bunch!”

“I… I…” Zecora muttered to herself.

“Don't defend them, don't try to work for them. Get rid of them,” I pressed.

The cloying smoke that had slowly filled the air began to thin, as if Zecora’s mere focus had kept it solid until now.

“Stand back young one, let me show you how it's done,” Zedra interrupted.

The larger zebra took the incense burner from her student and strode forward, her forceful gaze hitting me like a truck and leaving me reeling.

“What the fuck,” I murmured.

“I am in control, I speak the word. Tell me why you have stirred,” Zedra ordered.

I wanted to flee, to leave but I could do nothing but float there and stare back at her, my mouth moving without my bidding.

“They defiled a crypt most holy, so I sought to make them suffer, slowly,” I murmured absently.

“Your desire for justice is good and brave, but from your wrath, they I must save,” Zedra proclaimed. “Now proclaim an oath from deep down, that you shall forever leave this, our town.”

I was about to do what she wanted, to swear that I would leave and never return, only for the door to the increasingly cramped office to swing open. In stepped the single largest pony I had seen so far. With shoulders so wide he barely fit through the door, and a head that almost brushed the top of the doorjam, he was an absolute monster, and on top of it all, he was a unicorn.

His horn was visible through the mafiaesque black fedora that sat atop his massive skull. Wearing a just as dark suit, and tie he had a brown undershirt, as well as a brown handkerchief sticking out of his front pocket. Though almost all of his fur was covered, there was enough left exposed that I could tell it was a stark white. I couldn't see a speck of mane peeking out from under his hat, though I could see the piercing grey eyes that flicked from one person to the next.

“What in the hell is going on here?” he growled in a voice so deep it rumbled throughout the room.

I could tell his appearance unnerved Zedra as her ironclad control had begun to waver, though not enough that I could move yet.

“That summon attacked the boss!” Lock exclaimed, pointing to me. “We tried to subdue it but our capture matrixes didn't work and our attacks went right through it.”

“That's because it’s a bloody ghost you idiot, but the better question is why these sun damned striped backs are in the bosses’ office,” he roared, his glare turning from Zedra to Zecora.

“We were asked to make the spirit leave and we almost did it,” Zecora bravely declared.

“Apologies mister collector, we are nearly done with dispelling the specter,” Zedra added.

“Hmmm,” He grumbled, his anger lowering to a simmer. “Get on with it then I suppose.”

Zedra breathed a sigh of relief and turned back to me.

“Your rest we did not stir, your tomb we did not thieve, so sate your hunger, cool your soul, and take your leave,” Zedra began again. “Speak these words, and-”

Hoofington twitched, his eyes opening and swiftly taking everything in.

“What are you idiots doing?” Growled their boss, who was struggling to stand up. “I don't want that thing gone, I want it captured!”

“But I-” Zecora tried to interrupt.

“You had your chance and you failed. Black Jack, capture that thing. I intend on paying it back for all the grief it's caused me tenfold,” Mr. Hoofington ordered.

“You cannot do this act most foul, I will-” Zedra retorted.

Black Jack didn't let her finish and with a blast of magic sent her flying into a wall. The mist she had created began to clear, and the hold the two zebras had held on me started to loosen but I could still barely move. It felt like the restraints had loosened but they bound me still, holding me to the metaphorical torture table while my tormentor closed in.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” I muttered, twisting about in the air.

“Zedra!” Cried Zecora, the young pony going to her groaning mentor.

“Do you have the advanced capture matrixes?” Hoofington demanded.

Black Jack reached into his coat and produced a familiar half-white, half-red orb. Though it looked like it was from the show, I could see that small runes were covering both halves.

“Just one,” Black Jack replied.

“Perfect. Capture that thing and I’ll knock five years off your sentence,” Hoofington proclaimed.

“Yes sir,” Black Jack replied, a wide grin sliding across his face.

“Fuck fuck fuck!” I cried.

Thrashing against my metaphysical bindings I was able to tear free my right hand and a small section of my body. Despite this, the rest of me was still stuck fast, and judging from how things were going that wasn't going to change in time. I tried to summon the limited telekinesis I had used before and though my hand glowed that same strange color nothing happened. Whatever was holding me in place was leaving me weak, barely able to even use my powers.

I was screwed. I wasn't going to give up, mind you but I had to face facts. I was screwed.

Black Jack used his magic on the orb, activating it and causing a dull white light to begin emanating from within it. It took a second longer to charge but once it did, he took a moment to aim before throwing it at my center of mass. I watched as it sailed through the air in slow motion, its trajectory unchangeable and my fate sealed.

Then out of nowhere, a young zebra appeared between me and him. Throwing herself in the path of the orb, she deflected the hit with her barrel and though it looked like it hurt, the capture device broke on impact. As she fell, so too did the severed halves of the now inert matrix that had been about to enslave me.

“No, you fool!” Hoofington spat.

“Dammit, she broke the orb!” Black Jack cursed.

“Beat it into submission! We’ll capture it later!” Hoofington ordered.

“Yeah that's not happening,” I muttered.

With one final tug, my other side was free, and the second this happened I was gone. Though my speed was hampered and it took effort to phase through the wall I was able to escape the room before anyone could try and stop me. Once I had put a bit of distance between us, the effects of the gas vanished and I was able to speed away, slipping through walls or doors one after another before putting the entire building behind me.

In the distance, I could hear a cry of rage followed by the stomp of heavy hooves heading in my direction. I had one heck of a lead though, and I sped off into the forest before that lumbering behemoth even had a chance to make it outside. Hiding in the shadows of the trees I watched from on far as the various bad guys spilled out of the building in search of where I’d gone.

After a few seconds, it became clear that I had already escaped the area and left not a single trace with which I could be followed. Hoofington stomped around and threw stuff before backhanding Lock to the ground. Black Jack and his boss then went back inside, vanishing from sight.

“That was a close one,” I murmured to myself.

For a moment I simply relaxed, lounging in the darkness of a large tree and breathing a sigh of relief. A lot had happened in a very short amount of time, and I needed time to compress, so I nestled into the crook of a tree. It was unlikely anyone would see me here in the shadows, or so I hoped anyway, either way, it was a pleasant thought.

“Right, so they aren't all dumbasses. These team rocket types do have real heavy hitters,” I murmured to myself while scratching my chin. “I assumed as much otherwise there wouldn't be anything stopping the zebras from just breaking their contract but that guy was enormous.”

I paused, a thought popping into my head.

“Wait,” I whispered to myself. “He said he’d take time off that guy’s sentence. Does that mean they are also utilizing prison labor? They did say debt slavery was a thing so maybe he fell into it as well for some reason. Looked like a real mafia type too, real hardened killer vibes on him.”

Suddenly the rather slapstic adventures of Lock Stock and Barrel took on a slightly darker tinge to them. I knew they were thieves, slavers with extra steps, and the arm of a foreign colonial power exploiting a regional conflict but… well when I say it like that it's not really much of a surprise that these guys would be capital E evil and not just cartoonishly bad.

My stomach began to rumble, prompting me to rise from my hiding spot and start searching for food.

“Where to begin looking?” I asked no one in particular.

I floated up and was about to head into the jungle when I noticed there was a commotion at the headquarters. Zebras and ponies alike were all stepping outside and by the look of it an argument had begun.

Zedra and Zecora were then hauled outside and thrown on the ground, one in chains and the other visibly injured. Zedra limped heavily, though another zebra villager swiftly moved to support her. This young stallion seemed ready to argue with the ponies but a few words from Zedra knocked the fight out of him. With downcast eyes she hobbled away, her newfound helper remaining close at her side.

Zecora however, was bound in chains and was without any such support. The young zebra was surrounded by Black Jack, Lock, Hoofington as well as a few other ponies. The singular armed zebra I had seen earlier was exchanging words with them and holding his spear quite menacingly. For a moment I thought a fight was about to break out, as a line was quickly forming between the two groups.

Then something was said, something so powerful that all the fight left the warrior, and his shoulders visibly slumped. Hoofington spoke for a few more seconds before barking an order at Black Jack and pointing towards where the port lay, I think. From my stolen knowledge I got the impression that was where they had disembarked in order to begin this strange colonialist project.

“Godamnit,” I murmured. “I can't just leave her.”

With guilt weighing heavily in my chest, I began to round the village with the intent of heading them off at the pass so to speak. I managed to get to the road just as Black Jack and Zecora reached it, the towering male roughly pulling along his charge with a long chain.

“Hurry up,” he barked. “We’ve barely left the village and already you are lagging behind.”

“I can barely walk with my forelegs bound together like this!” Zecora retorted angrily, waving her metal-bound limbs in emphasis.

“And whose fault is that, hmm?” Black Jack asked. “I sure didn't decide to ruin a several thousand-bit peice of equipment then implicate myself in the assault on colonial outpost liaison.”

“You were trying to enslave that noble spirit, what you were doing was wrong!” Zecora shouted back.

Black Jack tugged at the chain.

“You stripe backs don't seem to get it. Right and wrong don't matter. There is only the law, and those who fall outside of it, and since you did just that you’ll be serving ten years in a penal colony,” Black retorted.

“N-no. My people, the elder will save me,” Zecora murmured.

Black Jack yanked the chain into the air, forcing Zecora to dangle several feet off the ground.

“You don’t get it, do you? They already sold you out,” Black Jack declared. “If they fought their whole village would be guilty and we know you don't have the kind of money to pay for all those fines.”

“You’d enslave us all… just for defying you?” Zecora murmured in shock.

“Slave is such a dirty word,” Black Jack remarked. “We prefer indentured servant as you will not be under our employ forever but only a few short years or maybe decades.”

“But thats-”

“Shut up,” Black Jack interrupted, shaking the young mare around like an animal in a trap. “You are property of the company now and you will not speak unless spoken to. Understood?”

After a second of dangling by her hooves, Zecora nodded meekly.

Black Jack dropped her to the dirt with a thump.

“Good. Now show me where this temple is,” Black Jack demanded.

“What temple?” Zecora asked.

“Don't play games with me. The one being defended by that damned ghost summon!” Black Jack roared.

“I… I don't know,” Zecora admitted.

“Well we’re headed to where Lock Stock and Barrel saw it first and when we get there you had best figure something out,” Black Jack exclaimed, leaning in close to glare directly into the young mare’s eyes. “Because if you don't. I might just tie you to a tree and forget about you out there in the jungle. I am rather forgetful you know and I may just misplace you after the long day I’ve had.”

“You wouldn't,” Zecora shot back.

Black Jack merely grinned, revealing several gold teeth.

“I… I’ll try to find it,” Zecora murmured.

“You’d better, now get moving. Because I want that sentence reduction and I want it now,” Black Jack growled.

The slave driver then rose back to his full height and began to walk once more.

Following behind him at a distance I couldn't help but wonder if helping her was such a smart idea. Actually, I knew the answer to that. It wasn't smart, though it was the right thing to do, and that’s close enough in my book.

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Comments

[coopda]

I was sure this fic was dead.

[Jest]

11827246
Fitting, aint it? Thankfully a kind supporter has chosen to donate their requests to this fic. So expect more soonish.

[ChaoticSymphonies]

And this is how you recruit a disillusioned zebra to your team of fledgling terrorists freedom fighters.

[dragonus85]

Haunter was always my fav of that line of evolutions. Liked the disembodied hands it had going on.

[44burn]

Just remember Hunter is a dual type and not just a ghost