Great Power
Scootaloo woke up the next morning, feeling just as tired as she was the night before. Nightmares had kept her from having a restful sleep, with each one revolving around Uncle Carrot and that stallion. Today was the first day of Scootaloo’s suspension, so she had the whole day to ruminate and plan for her revenge. Already a plan was formulating in her mind. She felt a vague tingly sensation in her wrists, but dismissed it as just another random tingle.
Of course, she hadn’t had breakfast yet, so she headed down stairs to pour herself a bowl of cereal or something. She arrived in the kitchen and saw the twins giggling at the table while Aunt Cup was frying something on the stove in the kitchen. The twins’ laughter caught her off guard.
“What are you two laughing abou-” it was at that moment Scootaloo got that strange tingling sensation. She quickly darted to the left and grabbed the pony trying to sneak up on her by the wrist, flipping them onto their back.
Aunt Cup and the twins looked at the display in shock. Although nopony was more shocked than the pink mare on the ground, whose expression could best be described as baffled.
“Not exactly how I expected this to go. Have you been working out Scoots?” Pinkie Pie asked from the floor, raising an eyebrow and smiling confusedly.
Scootaloo’s brain stopped for a minute, trying to process what she had just done. Pinkie was at least twice her size, and yet she had flipped her as if she were made of paper. “Holy crap Pinkie, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know it was you and I just sort of acted on reflex. Did I hurt you?” she said quickly, reaching to help the pink mare to her feet.
Pinkie Pie simply giggled in response, seemingly perfectly okay with being judo flipped onto the floor. “Don’t worry about it. If that’s all it took to put me down I’d have quit my job a long time ago,” she brushed herself off, seemingly none the worse for wear.
“What does being tossed around have to do with being a travel agent?” Cup Cake asked, raising an eyebrow at the pink pony’s statement.
Pinkie Pie simply shrugged nonchalantly. “Oh some clients hate being told first class is booked on their flight,” she replied.
“Uh….Okay then,” Scootaloo said quizzically. The twins were too distracted by Pinkie making faces at them to really care that she wasn’t making any sense. “Anyway, so what have you been up to?” Scootaloo asked as she walked up to the table.
“Oh not much. My work keeps me pretty busy,” she replied. “What about you guys? What’s new?” she asked innocently.
Scootaloo froze as she was about to take a seat at the table next to Pinkie. The twins stopped laughing and Cup Cake stopped stirring what looked like pancake batter. There was a tense pause as Pinkie seemingly realized her mistake, biting her lip. She had been one of the first ponies Cup Cake had called the night before and had come as soon as she could.
The pink pony took a deep breath and sighed. “Oh guys, come on. Carrot wouldn’t want to see you guys like this,” she reasoned, trying to cheer them up. “I’m gonna be in town for a while and Carrot wouldn’t have wanted you to stay a bunch of depressed lumps.” she said sternly. “When the funeral is going we’re not going mourn his death. Instead, we’ll celebrate his life and all the wonderful things he showed us. Like the time he took us fishing and wound up wrestling that bass out of the water,” she said, her eyes had a faraway look in them as she reminisced.
“He wound up making fish cakes out of it because I said he couldn’t make a cake out of anything,” Cup Cake added, smiling wistfully.
“We ate them around a campfire by the lake that night and he told us ghost stories,” Scootaloo added nostalgically.
“And then we couldn’t sleep cause we thought we heard the headless horse outside the tent,” Pumpkin piped up.
“That was one of my favorite summers,” Pound added. Everyone smiled and nodded in agreement.
“See guys. We can’t be sad that he’s gone because we have to remember him as he was,” Pinkie said smiling. “He was one of my best friends and gave me my first job working at his carnival stand way back when I was your age Scoots,” she said.
Scootaloo raised an eyebrow. “Uncle Carrot worked at a carnival?” she asked.
“I don’t remember him mentioning that,” Pound said confused.
“Oh it was before your time,” Cup Cake explained. “It was just a few years before we got married actually. Your mother and Pinkie were my brides maids and your father was Carrot’s best man,” Cup Cake told them, sighing as she remembered her wedding day.
Pinkie noticing the faraway look in her friend’s eyes decided to get everyone moving in their day. “Okay, you two,” she began looking at Pumpkin and Pound, “still have to go to school.” The twins groaned.
“What about Scootaloo?” they asked, questioning whether it was fair that the orange Pegasus got to stay home today.
“I got suspended for the week. So I have to stay home and help out with chores and errands,” Scootaloo explained, the twins began to look relieved they weren’t staying home too.
“That’s what happens when you get in trouble at school, so you guys better behave yourselves,” Pinkie told them as they got up from the table and grabbed their school bags. “I’ll get them to school. You two just take it easy for today, okay?” she told Scootaloo and Cup Cake. They nodded, but didn’t respond. Pinkie led the twins out the door and down the street.
There was a quiet pause between the two ponies as the sound of Pinkie Pie and the kids faded away, leaving the two ponies sitting at the kitchen table.
“Scootaloo, do you think you could run and get me some eggs?” Cup Cake asked off handedly.
Scootaloo looked up from the table, where she had been studying the random patterns in the wood. “Sure thing Auntie.” She replied distractedly as she stood up and trotted towards the door. “I have some other stuff I gotta take care of anyways…. I’ll be back later,” and with that she grabbed her scooter and disappeared out the front door.
//////////////////////////////
Scootaloo drove her scooter down the street as fast as she could. She was angry. Pinkie’s words, while probably well intentioned, only managed to rub salt into Scootaloo’s injury as it where. All they managed to do was remind Scootaloo of the massive hole that her uncle had left. The hole that monster had caused.
At first, she felt that maybe she just need to get outdoors and think some things over, and try to do what Pinkie Pie had said, remember the good times and don’t focus on the fact that her uncle, the pony she was closest with, was now dead. The feelings of anger and hate towards that stallion that had killed Uncle Carrot only seemed to grow with each passing moment, making her angrier and angrier.
Whatever it takes, she thought as she pulled up to the empty warehouse, that colt’s going to pay…
She ground to a halt, stomping off the scooter and into the warehouse. She needed to vent. To get all the anger out in some way, and what better place to do it then an abandoned warehouse on the edge of town. It was far from any prying eyes or ears, so she could be as loud and angry as she wanted without judgment. Rather, it was filled with random pieces of old equipment, and chains that hung from the ceiling.
The dreary atmosphere only managing to add to her frustration. There was one or two tables still standing around, now cluttered and covered with a mix of old out of date blueprints and a healthy coating of dust.
Still fuming, Scootaloo made a beeline towards one of the tables, surrendering to her anger. In a rage-fueled burst of energy, she slammed her fists into the table, causing it to snap in half. Scootaloo however, was too angry to notice and instead moved to punch a wall, mentally picturing the stallion that had killed Uncle Carrot in its place. She only got one or two punches in however, as her fists all of a sudden stuck to the wall as if they were covered in glue. Scootaloo tugged as hard as she could, her anger now being directed at the wall.
“Stupid wall!” she grumbled, tugging and yanking at her arms as hard as she could. All of a sudden, like the flip of a switch, her hands came loose and she went stumbling backwards. Her arms flailed about wildly as she tried to regain her balance. All of a sudden, she felt that same odd tingling sensation from her wrists and a strange thwip noise reached her ears. Her arms were suddenly yanked hard and she stopped stumbling, her eyes looking at her hands in shock.
Extending from her wrists were two long white ropes, one for each wrist, that extended towards the wall, attaching themselves close to the ceiling. Scootaloo gently tugged at them, pulling herself in a more upright position. The two ropes had detached themselves from her wrists and Scootaloo eyed them with wonder.
Just like the spider room at Bluecorp, she thought, reaching up to touch one of the ropes with her hooves. It was sticky like a spider-web. "No freakin’ way…I have webs now?!"
She glanced back at the wall. She slowly trotted towards it, lifting up a forehoof. She paused, looking closely at the surface. The bottom of her hoof was now covered in hundreds, if not thousands, of tiny black specks. All of a sudden, a plan started to form in her mind. She slowly set her hand on the concrete surface of the wall and gently pushed. She tried to lift her hand off. It wouldn’t budge.
Just like before. She thought. Like glue, she looked up at the wall again. Taking a deep breath, she slowly placed her other handforeleg on the wall, followed by her feet. Before she knew it, she was tentatively crawling up the wall. About half-way up, she paused, glancing back down at the floor.
Yeah, She thought, a grim smile crossing his face as she eyed the broken table, putting two-and-two together. This is going to work out nicely…
///////////////////////
By the time Scootaloo found her target, the sun had begun to set behind the city’s many skyscrapers. She had spent a little more time at the warehouse, testing her powers a little more. She had then quickly set about learning how to properly swing from her webs, nearly hitting a building more than once. However, she had quickly gotten the hang of it, and was now crouched at the top of a streetlamp, waiting for any news of Uncle Carrot’s killer.
Her target was a pair of police officers, one a stallion, the other a mare, sitting in their squad car, sipping coffee. Scootaloo’s plan was simple. The police were going to find that stallion eventually, that was inevitable. Once they did they’d send out a message over the radio’s they kept in their cars to communicate and then she’d just have to get to him before the ponies in blue did. Simple.
For the first hour or so, nothing happened, except the cops making small talk.
“So Hoofcuff, whadda think about the new quarterback the Canterlot Alicorns hired?” the stallion, a dark brown earth pony asked the mare.
The mare, a slate grey unicorn with a dark brown mane let out a groan. “Ugh, Danno, I told you I hate footbalI. I don’t care.”
The stallion seemed somewhat offended by this, giving the mare a funny look. “Fine be that way.” He muttered, returning to sip his coffee. There was a long pause between the two, with the stallion pulling out a sports magazine and the mare reading a book while Scootaloo watched impatiently.
Scootaloo’s legs had started to cramp, having been in a rather awkward crouching position for quite some time now. “Ugh… come on somepony’s gotta be able to find that stallion soon,” she grumbled, growing tired of the conversation in the car. It didn’t help that she didn’t care for football either, since she was more of a air racing fan. As if to answer her prayers the radio crackled to life.
“We’ve got the suspect from the Cake murder heading down Third Street towards Eighth. We are in pursuit, but we need somepony to head him off before we lose him,” the voice on the radio told the officers below. The two ponies in the car snapped to attention, the mare quickly grabbing the receiver. “Copy that, backup is on the way,” the mare said, nudging the stallion, who flicked the siren on and the car sped off.
Scootaloo smiled. “Bingo!” she whispered, quickly flicking out a web line and following after the car.
//////////////////////////
Pick Pocket had never felt this scared before in his life. Sirens blared on the streets outside the alley he was in. Running out of options he started climbing the nearest fire escape. “Oh Celestia, why is this happening?” he whined to himself as he clambered up the fire escape. “I just wanted the bits, why did that guy have to get brave?” he continued, blaming the baker he had shot the day before for his current misfortune.
“There he is!” a police pony shouted from below. Pick jumped through a window on the fourth floor into an apparently abandoned building.
“No, no, what do I do?” he asked trying to find an escape. A creaking floor board behind him alerted him that he was not alone, but when he turned to look at where the sound had come from nopony was there.
“Hello,” he called out, a plan forming in his mind involving a hostage.
“Pick Pocket!” An electronic voice flared into existence. “We have the building surrounded. Come out now or we’re coming in!” a police pony shouted into a mega phone outside.
Pick looked out the window and saw a group of several cops climbing up the fire escape he had used. “Oh crap,” he whispered as he ran into the hallway outside, deeper into the building. He kept hearing footsteps that sounded like they were following him and he thought he saw another pony’s shadow at one point, but every time he tried to investigate he found himself alone.
Pick heard stomping hooves climbing stairs ahead of him and flashlight beams around the corner told him the police had entered the building. “Buck,” he cursed under his breath as he ducked into a room and closed the door. He heard the police outside as he backed into the room. It was mostly empty, the only noticeable feature being a gaping hole in the ceiling, near the back wall and the window leading to another fire escape.
A banging on the door made the felon jump. “We know you’re in there, just give up,” a cop said from outside. Pick didn’t move, hoping against hope that they would just leave. A heavy impact on the other side of the door told him it was hopeless. He was about to start crying when he heard a soft thwipp and felt something sticky hit his back. “What th-” he began, but was cut off as the floor was yanked away from him. Something had just pulled him through the hole in the ceiling. He was about to shout when a hand covered his mouth and he heard somepony shushing him.
The police finally broke the door down and barged into the room. “Where’d he go?” one asked.
“Damn he went through the window!” another shouted, the stomping of feet indicating their departure.
Once the police were gone the hoof was removed from Pick Pocket’s mouth. “Thanks,” he said, letting out a sigh of relief. “Who are you though?” he asked his rescuer. Pick Pocket then felt a fist collide with his stomach knocking the wind out of him.
“We met before, but I’m not gonna let you walk away this time,” An orange filly said stepping into his line of sight.
“You,” Pick pocket said weakly, recognizing the orange filly. It was the one who had let him escape when he snatched that purse from that little brat the day before.
“Quiet,” the filly hissed, slamming a fist into the stallion’s face. She was incredibly strong for a pony of her size. “You aren’t going to talk. You’re only going to feel as much of the pain as I’ve felt as you can,” she said rage seething from her as she stomped on his back legs. An audible snap was heard and Pick screamed in agony for a second before he heard that thwipping noise again and his mouth was covered in some kind of goo.
“It’s not fun is it? Being on the receiving end?” the pony asked as she picked the stallion up and threw him across the room, head first. Pick Pocket slammed into the opposite wall leaving a hole in the shape of his head. He was bleeding from his nose and several other cuts on his face when the filly picked him up again.
Meanwhile, Scootaloo was consumed in an incredible rage. Everything about this pony made her angry. She hauled him up by the neck with one hand and flicked the other at his left arm, sticking it to the wall. She repeated this action with his other limbs until he was suspended from the wall unable to move. It felt so good, to see the stallion suffer that way…just like she had suffered. She then proceeded to swing her for fists at him as hard as she could at his face, and chest, hitting everything she could reach, finally able to take all of her anger and sadness out on the stallion that had destroyed the very pony that was most important in her life. She eventually stopped to catch her breath. Once she stopped she was able to see that Pick was unconscious.
“Jeeze, getting hit by a filly too much for you?” she asked rhetorically as she ripped the web off of his face and slapped him a few times trying to wake him up. She raised an eyebrow when he didn’t open his eyes. Now that she got a good look he didn’t seem to be moving at all. Not even the steady rising and falling if his chest that signified breathing.
Scootaloo hesitantly held up two fingers to his neck, checking for a pulse. She began to panic when she didn’t feel anything, her anger quickly being replaced by fear and panic. “What have I done?” she asked as realization began to dawn on her. “I-I killed him,” she told herself, her eyes growing wide. She began to hyperventilate as her actions caught up with her. She had taken a life.
As her brain began to start processing this information she heard hooves running down the hall towards the room she was in. The police had heard the racket she had made. “I have to get out of here,” she told herself, as she dropped down into the hole in the floor and opened the window exiting the building onto the fire escape. She jumped onto the wall of the building on the other side of the alley and started climbing.
//////////////////////////////////
Once Scootaloo was a few blocks from the abandoned building she stopped, panting for breath and collecting her thoughts. “I killed him,” she repeated, looking at her hands. “I didn’t mean to kill him. I just wanted to scare him,” she cried. Her hands still had a thin coating of a red liquid that she assumed was the stallion’s blood, but she couldn’t be sure. But that didn’t matter. She had become the thing she most loathed. A killer.
This is too much, she thought. I can’t handle this power…can I? she thought as she started to run again, tears welling up in her eyes.
What have I done? She thought.
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Harmony's Warriors: Flutterhulk.
2634710 You sir are awesome.
Why is it always RD for Iron Man? I liked Twilight better. RD IS A RACER, NOT A WEAPONS BUILDER AND A SCIENTIST!!!!!
2634727 Bro I have been tracking that series for sometime so don't be amazed my friend also nice way to tie in the original sam raimi trilogy and the new one together with the way she tracked him down and the egg fetching.
2634730 It's Rainbow cause she and Stark have similar personalities; egotistical and outspoken.
2634733 Thank you. We try.
2634740 I can understand that. I just don't get how she could become an inventor and scientist when she's clearly into nothing but speed, speed, and speed.
2634755 I solved that problem. You;ll see when I publish it.
2634769 I will wait and see.
RD as iron mare? I like it. makes sense because of the attitude, but how are you going to fit in the suit if RD can already fly? well I did read a fIron mare where she injured her wings...
This chapter was really violent......
2636039 It had to be. That's kind of an important part.
2636062
I guess it's important to plot development.
But still...
2636078 Yeah
2636107
Yeah...
Uhgg
I still have to write my story...
Bleh.
Could you proofread?
2636117 Sure My e-mails are Spyronick@yahoo.com and pokenick30@gmail.com. Send it my way.
Just read the new chapter and it was great
But I noticed you aren't just using TASM (the amazing spider-man) story you are using parts from the old movies. P.s when scoot gets the symbiote don't make her emo like they did to peter in spider-man 3.
2642976 Oh of course not. When I get to venom He'll be the main villian through out that story. I'm not gonna slight spideys number one baddie.
2673376 Yeah they sorta botched the new movie. I certainly wasn't going to.
2676600 Glad you like it.
Awesome work as usual, I like Pinkie Pie being added into the equation and how it's rolling out so far. So this story is defiantly interesting and glad all this was wrapped up in one chapter (well how many times have we heard this story?)
But being me, I have problems as usual. For one I'm not very good at perspectives, but I doubt you were allowed to suddenly change perspectives without warning between Pick Pocket and Scootaloo. As in have one of these things '/////////////////////////; so we've gotten the hint, if you don't mind me recommending, even if I'm totally wrong and it turns out you're allowed to do that.
Story wise, wasn't sure about Scootaloo being on suspension. Her Uncle who brought her up was just killed, shouldn't she being taking a break from school instead of still being punished? I don't know, I'm strongly against the suspension idea, but I'll accept this is a personal issue I have.
Also I felt Pinkie Pie was too mature. This is Pinkie Pie after all. It's the image I got anyways. But I'll accept that Pinkie Pie's a really hard character to do. I haven't read a successful Pinkie Pie yet, given that I haven't read many ponyfics, fact remains that I haven't found a complimentary Pinkie Pie depiction yet. So I won't really hold it against you that I felt there was some inaccuracies.
I enjoyed it anyways and I'll be sure to read more when I can. I'm enthusiastic to read what Pinkie Pie's doing in this.
You murdered him. duh. Was this chapter unclear Scootaloo? I thought you already knew that.
That was a joke. I was joking...please don't form an angry mob in attempts to decapitate me and put my head on a wall...