> Bon Bon Dies at the End
>  by Wargame
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Chapter 1, or Why Lyra Isn't Allowed Near Schools Anymore
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	So then, you want me to tell all of you how I got to be like this, eh? That's it right? How I ended up with a blood soaked bandage on my head, sitting on a park bench by a schoolhouse like some sort of weirdo?

Of course I'm right, I'm always right about things I don't wanna do! Well this story is pretty special, and I probably shouldn't go around telling random ponies about it. I've honestly never said it out loud before, so I'm not exactly sure where or how I can even start this off.

Some people have stories that shake the lives of millions -- what? Why did I say "people" instead of "ponies"? Because, they're like... these weird things that walk on two legs. They make movies. They're cool. Anyway, sometimes they make heartwarming tales that show us that there's always hope in any situation, no matter how bleak things may look. Other times they tell tragic stories that let us all have a good cry, showing how lucky we are for not living in whatever shithole world the characters live in. People love to churn out romantic stories that show us What Love Really Is. What little foal didn't grow up wanting to marry a Prince and live in a spectacular castle? Others create pornography that show us what happens after the end of those romantic stories, with money shots that would make any stallion jealous.

What? Don't give me that look. Was it the porno comment? Everyone watches porn, don't act like you're some high-class asexual psycho-pony who never clopped before.

No, I don't care that you're only eight years old. For all of the fucks I give you can tell your parents about how I talk, they already hate me. If you want a story then you get the story I give you.

Anyway, never mind what I've said so far, I'll start it differently this time. No no no, you interrupted me so I guess you don't want to hear about what kind of story this is...

Fine, but only because you're all so damn cute. This story just kind of exists; not happy enough to be heartwarming, it’s not really all too tragic either. We did pretty well for ourselves I think... Who's we? Stop asking questions while I'm talking, kids. Uh, where was I again... Oh yeah, not a whole ton of romance to be had, and it only qualifies as porn if you have some odd kinks. Like using your face to get people off... or something like that. Not my thing really.

I'll start from yesterday afternoon. Not that yesterday was the beginning of it all or anything, mind, it’s just the reason why I've ended up sitting on your park bench over here.





It was around 5:30 and the sun was starting to set. I had been practicing my lyre in my living room. I had the day off, so I thought that I might as well waste it in style. Or stylishly waste it, as the case may be. It’s not much of a living room though, it’s more of an every-single-room-in-the-house-rolled-into-one, and I live in it. Hence the name, which, now that I think about it, is more honestly come by than your traditional living room.

I was sitting in the middle of said room on my plush three-cushion couch -- not a whole lot of "plush" left in it, it’s more of a patchy mess that I found sitting on the side of the road one day.  There's something shaped like a cone in the middle cushion that sticks up kind of awkwardly, I kind of just avoid that part of it. Anyway, the couch sits just in front of my coffee table which was covered in grease-stained musical papers, slimjim wrappers, and a few half finished cans Pony Blue Ribbon beer. I'm not exactly a big fan of slimjiims anymore, I kind of got turned off of haybacon recently, the stuff isn't great for you. I just haven’t gotten around to tossing stuff out this month, I'll probably do that tomorrow. Come to think of it, I should down those PBRs when I get back, too.

I have a few posters on my wall covering up holes in the drywall from when a few parties went wrong. The posters are nothing too special, just some old Red Hot Chilli Ponies stuff. Not the most creatively named band, but I went through a phase where I loved them in high school. Smoked a lot of pot back then. Those two things are probably pretty related to one another.

The carpet’s alright I guess, just a regular old carpet. Has a stain in one corner that I’ll be getting back to in a minute. There are some lights hanging from the ceiling too, three to be specific, all hanging in a line above my head. One of them isn't as bright as the other two, so I put it in the middle so it's not as noticeable. Kind of creates a weird lighting effect, but I can deal with it.

In the back left corner behind the couch is the "kitchen". It has a counter and a few drawers with some half-dead flashlights and spare batteries. Next to the counter there's a fridge that heats things up and a stove that cools things down. The unicorn appliance guy was pretty out of it the day he installed all of my stuff, had some gold flecks around his mouth. I'll tell you about that when you're older, that's not something to tell little foals about. And yes, even I think that, what with the rest I’m telling you.

Don't ask about the freezer, the freezer is a dick.

The back right corner is my little welcoming area, a regular door with two locks and a "Welcome" mat outside that just says "We come" now. A friend of mine thought it would be funny to scratch out my "L".

Come means jizz in that situation by the way. Thought you kids should know that.

In front of me to my left was my bed, a full-size mattress on a twin-size bed frame shaped like a race wagon. Don't laugh, that shit’s fly as hell! Next to the bed, and pressed up against the wall are my drawers where I keep a few sets of dress clothes and party clothes in case I need them.  Above the bed was a window that formerly looked out into my backyard, but which is now shattered and destroyed. Mind you I didn't say broken; broken would mean that there was still some window left to be damaged. Well, all of the glass is gone and the window frame got reduced to splinters. Take my advice, kids, there are certain things in this world that you really shouldn't piss off if you care about your home's resale value.

Now the area that formerly contained a window is just a garbage bag attached to the wall using duct tape. It's not pulled as tight as possible against the wall so sometimes the wind blows the bag around during the night and it makes a ton of annoying noise. You get used to it though, it’s not even the most annoying noise that's in the house. That honor belongs to the guy in the corner to my right.

Now this guy is a pain in the ass. Ever since I took something that I shouldn't have a year ago I've seen things that others can't. Look, before I get into describing him, I have to say this:

If I took you to my house and showed you exactly where he was sitting, you wouldn't be able to see him. You could walk right through him if you wanted to. Only me, my best friend, Time Turner, and a few other people and ponies can see and interact with cases like him, and only for awful reasons. Yes, Apple Bloom, I was talking about people on purpose there.

No Scootaloo, I won't tell you that story, not even when you're older.

... What was I on about again? Oh right, Corner Guy.

Corner Guy is an older grey stallion with a thinning silver mane, and he has a spotlight cutie mark. Not sure what it’s for. His most defining feature though, is the fact that he sits in his corner all day puking over and over again into the same spot on my carpet. Just pukes, never eats or sleeps, just either pukes or heaves like he's about to puke. Its left a really nasty stain, it’s like some sort of ghost stain that I can't clean up. I think I need ghost detergent. In the meantime I tried covering the stain up for a while with one of those shag rugs, and he just puked on that as well. He's an asshole like that.

I think he probably died there not so long ago, and now he just haunts that spot like the spectral jackass that he is. By the looks of it he probably died of alcohol poisoning, which is not the most uncommon way to go in a neighborhood like mine. I'm pretty sure that if I, like, put his spirit to rest or something like that, he would just disappear and stop puking all over my floor. Don't know how to go about that though, it’s not like in kids stories where it’s some middle class parent whose one regret is never letting their child know how much they love them. If that was the case then we'd just go through some sappy hour and a half about learning the value of love or whatever the moral value of the day is and call it a wrap. Hell, I'd probably meet a handsome pegasus stallion along the way and we'd live happily ever after.

Sadly that's just not the case with Corner Guy. He probably died alone in his little corner with a lifetime of regrets.  Probably unemployed, one of those ponies with a talent for showmanship and just wasn't quite good enough to get into any decent shows. Maybe he worked a few odd jobs to pay rent over the years, but when a pony can't perform their special talent can they really be happy? Most likely he was thinking about what could've been, if he had gotten into one or two more shows, if he had stayed in touch with his distant family, or if he had just stayed sober. So he sat in his dark little corner consoling himself with his last remaining friend, Mr. Applejack Daniels himself. And he slowly killed himself with his poison of choice over the course of his last night.

What do you even say to a guy like that? Nothing, that's what I've learned to say to him. Nothing at all. Some sorrows just can't be consoled.

Shit, that was sort of depressing. Damn it, I forgot where I was going with this. No Sweetie, I wasn't talking about kids movies, that was just to prove a point... That's right Diamond, I was talking about how I got here, thanks... Geez kid, you don't have to be such a little shit about it.

Okay then, back to what I was talking about; it was late in the afternoon and I was playing my lyre in the living room of my house. It’s not the nicest place, but I like it there, it’s good enough. While I was having a jam session in my living room, I got a message. Now the delivery of the message was pretty simple: it was on a piece of paper attached to a brick. The brick was then thrown into my house through my garbage bag window, where it broke my garbage bag and landed on my carpet roughly three feet away from Corner Guy. That meant I would have to replace the garbage bag for the third time this week. Seriously. You can see why I haven’t bothered to replace the window now.

Stewing in a fit of angry acceptance I used my magic to pick up the brick and put it on my coffee table, and from there I was able to detach the note with my hooves and unfold it. The writing on the note was done in a scraggly, crooked handwriting that told me that it was written in a rush, and said only one thing:

"North side of town by the water tower, sundown, urgent, can't explain now, hurry"

It was at this moment that I realized I should be worried. You see, I knew who sent this to me. I knew that the message had been sent to me by my best friend. This wasn't the first time we had to go through this kind of thing. This had basically become a monthly routine for us.

Which was exactly why I was worried, because nothing good ever came out of this routine.

Sundown was in half of an hour. I dropped the note to the floor and started dashing around the house, picking up anything I might need, which was only one thing. I grabbed my saddlebags from underneath my bed. Thankfully I had gotten to the point where I was prepared for situations like this. Going over everything in my saddlebags one last time I made sure I had all that I might need: brass hoof dusters, a pack of cigarettes, a lighter, a portable tape deck with speakers, a Neighvana cassette with one song half recorded over by an RHCP song I liked, a pack of bandages, some rags, and a half-eaten slimjim.

There I was, prepared for anything. But as I started to head to the door I noticed that there was more writing on the other side of the paper as well. I pulled it from across the room with my magic to see what was so important that it couldn't wait until I got to the water tower. My eyes darted around the paper. I held it upside down at first. I tried twisting it around with my magic, but wound up tearing the paper in half. I'm not the best with telekinesis, honestly. I can work with some medium sized things like carrying books around, but small and thin things like paper are hard for me to get a good grip on. I learned to play Lyre with my hooves unlike most unicorn musicians because of that. Regardless of how shit I am with magic I was able to piece the note back together after a minute or so. It only had one thing to say:

"Bring booze and golf clubs"

…

I could do that.

Heading outside onto my front lawn I went to go pick up the necessities from my shed. Making a quick stop inside the dark shed, I was able to find a few golf clubs and grabbed three bottles from my stash of emergency vodka, putting two in my saddlebags and carrying one with my magic. It’s actually not so much emergency vodka, I just sort of keep it there for when I want vodka. Emergency enough, I guess.

Carrying my saddlebags, driver, pitching wedge, and a brown-bag bottle of vodka I started sprinting across Ponyville. I made it about two houses or so sprinting before getting tired and began moving at a more reasonable pace. I may look a little out of shape, but I do pretty well for a lazy mare if I say so myself.

Aside from drawing a few of the usual looks from the ponies around town there wasn't much to say about the trip. I think I saw Thunderlane on the way there, but that's not important now. Oh, and there was a musical number too. Apparently Mayor Mare had started singing about how nice Ponyville was and how much she loved her job. Everyone in the square did the usual song and dance. It was a pretty cool trip, I guess.

Anyway, I approached the water tower on the North side of town a little bit after sundown and saw my friend. Though the sun was just below the horizon, it still turned the sky a beautiful shade of violet and gave off enough light to see by. Underneath the water tower was my best friend, sitting on the bench where we usually sit around on when we hang out. From where I was walking towards her I could only see her head over the top of the bench, her cobalt mane hiding underneath a baseball hat. She had recently decided that she enjoyed wearing baseball hats now, even left those silver stickers on the brim so they looked "fresh". Don't ask, I don't try to understand this mare. But as I was saying, as I approached her from behind I decided to get her attention.

"Hey."

Truly I am a master wordsmith. Upon hearing my voice, Vinyl's ears instantly perked up. In a flash her head whipped around and she gave me a cheeky smile.

"Yo Lyra, what's up?" the way Vinyl pronounced it though she combined the words "what's" and "up" into one word, it kind of sounded like "wassup". If that makes any fucking sense.

Now you're probably wondering who Vinyl is right about now, how we came to be friends, and why she made a habit of pulling me into her stupid ideas. That's another long story. The short of it is that we went to the same elementary school when we were young, started going after our cutie marks together, and just sort of stuck together after that. We both got cutie marks related to music, so it’s helped that we've always had something to bond over. Vinyl is a crappy DJ that plays music at local parties, and I'm a crappy... lyricist? I think that's a word for people who make song lyrics -- I mean playing the lyre. I kind of suck at writing words, too, if that means anything. Then there was the Sauce... 

But last night, let’s get back to last night.

"Not much, got your brick." I looked at the DJ's sunglasses, seeing myself inside their reflection. "What are we doing?"

Vinyl scratched her chin with her hoof as if she was thinking hard about it. She obviously knew what the plan was in her head, she just had a tendency to forget things for a minute or so. After a semi-awkward pause she began to speak.

"Found out about this haunted house at a rave last night, there's supposed to be some ghosts in there and stuff that kills ponies. Apparently these two stallions went in there a week ago and didn't come out." This would be a good moment to note that she seems to get all of her ideas at raves, which are famous for being some of the greatest think tanks in Equestria. "Wanna go check it out?"

"Sure," I stated, pretty sure that I had an idea of what we were in for. "Where's the house?"

"Over by the edge of the Everfree Forest. Whoever built the house was pretty hardcore."

"Well then, what are we waiting for?" I declared, now confident that we had no idea what we were in for at all.

Me and Vinyl had some more conver -- okay, seriously Sweetie Belle, you going for your Grammar Police cutie mark or something? That what you want, to be that pony that goes around irritatin’ ponies by always correcting them? Do you have any idea how annoying that is?

Vinyl and I had some conversation on our way over to the house, mostly just shooting the shit. Nothing too interesting to tell the truth. This wasn't anything too new to us anyway. You see kids, as I explained before, me and Vinyl -- fine, fine, Vinyl and I -- can see things that other ponies can't. At least that is, you can't see if you look directly at them. Think of it like this: you ever walk through your basement and you're sure that there's something following you? As you walk towards the stairs in the dark, do you ever feel breathing on your neck, or see something unnatural at the edge of your vision, but when you turn around to face whatever is following you there's nothing there? Well those things are really there, there are monsters way worse than anything in the Everfree sitting in your houses right now. Most of them don't do much, just creep you out by following you closely in dark places, or sit in the corner of your house and stain your carpet.

Sometimes though, they're violent. Sometimes these monsters haunt houses or terrorize entire families. You probably heard about what happened to the mare who lived in the library before Princess Twilight. That old librarian Page Turner, do you remember how she apparently fell from the second floor onto her neck? Don't listen to whatever the local militia says, don't listen to whatever the newspapers say, and don't listen to what your parents may say about it. They can't explain why her spine was broken in three places, or why there was a hole in the back of her head, or why she had carved pictures of strange creatures into the walls of every room of the building.

Or why she started screaming during her autopsy.

Well, I saw what did that to her, and Vinyl and I fought that ugly son of a bitch tooth and nail for an hour and a half. Most of that was spent running away, mind, but in the end we killed it before it laid eggs. Well, aside from the ones that were already in Page Turner anyway. That's what we do really, we deal with the supernatural shit that nobody else knows is even there. The Mayor herself once called us up to figure out why all of the faucets in her house alternated spraying either mayo or blood whenever she turned them on. It’s not the most stable job or the safest living, but it pays more than Vinyl's DJ gigs and my unemployment combined. And by the Sun, I will never work in fast food again, even if it means bringing golf clubs and booze to fight demons once a month.

We took a few long swigs of the vodka on the way. When we started to get close to where the house was we were both a little buzzed. Still sober enough to handle ourselves, but drunk enough to think we could take on anything that stood in our way with just our golf clubs.

"I'm telling you Lyra, if you took out his knees with your pitching wedge and got Big Macintosh on the ground I could totally knock him out with this thing," Vinyl assured me as she swung her driver back and forth with her magic.

"I'm not buying it. There's no way I could get enough torque behind this thing to do any real damage to that guy. He's built like a brick shit house!" Yes, that's your brother I'm talking about. I don't know what you feed him, but it might be too much.

"Eh, he's kind of a pussy," Vinyl spoke ill of her coltfriend. "He'd probably just stand there and take it till you could get in enough whacks to knock him down." Vinyl took another drink of my vodka before tossing it to me. "He might ask you to stop politely, that's about it."

Yeah Apple Bloom, your brother has a marefriend. You probably shouldn't tell Applejack about Vinyl though, Vinyl isn't really the type of filly that meets Apple family standards if you're catching my drift. As I was saying before you cut me off, it was about at that point our evening walk ended.

It was dark when we arrived at the haunted house, the waning moon in the sky casting long shadows across the yard in front of us. The house itself turned out to be as large as I had expected it would be, three stories tall plus an attic. From where we were standing we could see some of the lights were flickering on and off on the second floor, and a tall figure seemed to be darting around on the third. Clearly there wasn't any gardener to speak of as the tall grass of the front lawn had completely overtaken the whole yard. There wasn't even any sort of path towards the house where the grass wasn't at least several inches above me and Vinyl's -- stop it! -- me and Vinyl’s heads. The top of the front door was barely visible above the grass. As I put the cap back onto the bottle of vodka, Vinyl motioned for me to stop.

"You stay here, I'll scout ahead." Before I could say anything to try and stop her, Vinyl began to make her way into the tall grass. Within seconds she had vanished from my sight.

I began pacing back and forth. This wasn't a good idea, because as all foals learn at a young age it’s dangerous to go into tall grass alone; wild animals can attack. Now I know we didn't really come up with a plan for how we were going to go about this, but we never really come up with any concrete plans. They have a tendency to fail when you don't know what you're actually going up against. Still, we had a rule about splitting up. We’re not the Power Ponies and the monsters we face aren’t megalomaniacal manedressers. Though tentacles are involved more often than I’d like to think about.

After about a minute or so of pacing I heard Vinyl's shout come from the thicket. I ran into the tall grass in the direction of the scream, holding my golf club in front of my face horizontally to try and push the long blades of grass away from my face. It was useless, though. Even with the club, trying to push my way to Vinyl was a crapshoot at best. All I had to go off of was a general direction from where I heard her screaming. All I'd probably end up doing is hurting myself out here as well. Vinyl screamed again.

Suddenly the side of my head exploded in a combination of red mist and pain.

I was knocked into a small clearing in the grass directly in front of the door. I could feel a stream of blood was flowing from the side of my head down across my face, some of the warm liquid spilling into my eyes. I rubbed a hoof across my face to clear some of it off. To my right I could see the sadly all too familiar sight of the blood from my head beginning to mingle with the dirt. So odds are I was on knocked onto my side. Lifting my head up I could see a white blur moving at the edge of the clearing, which appeared to be about five square feet at one moment and twenty-five square-feet another. The blur darted around aggressively, standing out in the haze of darkness and grass, and I couldn't tell what it was.

"You DROVE me to do this!" The sound of a golf club hitting flesh instantly followed.

Vinyl. That was definitely Vinyl.

“I’d have another drink, but I’m driving tonight!” Thwack.

Slowly getting up, I tried shaking the cobwebs out of my head. Using my magic to grasp around for my pitching wedge I found it just next to where I had landed. No sign of the rest of the vodka, though. I looked up to where I had originally seen Vinyl. The two I found, I could see had a look of determination on their faces as they momentarily joined in my vision before splitting apart again. I tried calling out to her to ask what was happening, but instead I wound up making a noise.

"Aaauughguagh," I think it was. Or maybe it was "Urghleck." Either way I can't remember. I got hit in the head. Vinyl spotted me and pointed behind me with a foreleg.

"Lyra turn around! Assfirst McScorpionface is gonna kill you!" Vinyl said that, she seriously opened her mouth and released those two sentences upon the world.

Turning around I saw a creature that could honestly best be described with the name Assfirst McScorpionface. It was obviously a pony at some point before it became whatever it was now. There stood the orange flanks of a pony with a cutie mark of three horseshoes and by the semi-sizable meat dangling between those legs I assumed it was a stallion. In place of his regular pony tail was a red stump surrounded by old congealed blood, from which extended a dripping white and red appendage that curled up in the air in a menacing ark. At the end of that sickening "tail" was whatever was left of the original owner’s head, now bloodied at the snout and having a dripping red hole where his right eye belonged. The forelegs and chest of Assfirst McScorpionface dragged limply across the ground as he pulled himself towards me using what were formerly his hind legs.

As I stood gaping at the creature in front of me, he reared his head back. Quickly realizing what had clobbered me in the head earlier, I executed a sideways roll. Which in my daze came off more as awkwardly falling over onto my left side, but since it had gotten me out of the way of Assfirst's quick attack, it went down as a success in my books. Lifting my golf club high into the air with my magic I took aim at Assfirst's neck and swung downwards as hard as I could. A detached part of me was amused to finally realize that it was the stallion’s spine I was swinging at, and that it had somehow ripped itself out of his body and flipped over backwards, head still attached. Weird.

In a spray of old rotten blood, the pitching wedge sunk into its target, forcing Assfirst to let out a wet, piercing screech of rage. I scrambled up to my hooves and drew my pitching wedge out of the mangled wreckage of his spine with a wet pop to try and strike again.

Assfirst McScorpionface whipped back his neck quickly, his spine sporting a noticeable fracture which now sprayed a small fountain of blood. Lashing out at me again, I was able to narrowly avoid getting hit by his battering ram of a face by jumping to my right just before he struck. As I raised my club to take another crack at his spine he pulled his head back much faster this time, finally realizing he had a fight on his hooves. Assfirst began to shamble himself closer to me now, his hind legs dragging the rest of his mangled corpse forward. Like I wanted this abomination of a pony any closer. I tried to back up and keep the distance between us, but I instead wound up backing into the outer wall of the haunted house. Assfirst let out a dripping, cackling laugh from his mouth and drew his head back slowly. At this range I couldn't hope to get lucky and dodge another one of his attacks, so I did the only thing I could think of and positioned myself to strike first. Lashing out before Assfirst could start beating me to death with his face, I aimed for the only one of his vitals within reach and popped it with my pitching wedge as hard as I could.

Right in the dick.

I know, I’m an awful pony for it, but what the fuck else could I have done? Tried talking about my feelings?

Anyway, after smacking my pitching wedge into his cock as hard as I could, Assfirst McScorpionface lost his balance, his left leg giving out beneath him as he succumbed to the worst agony known to stallions. Overcome with the all-consuming anguish his lower head was experiencing, his spine began to curl in and that brought his other head back into my striking range.

Taking my aim quickly I brought my club as hard across Assfirst’s face as my telekinetic strength would allow, a gruesome crack ringing out as the wedge found its target. Assfirst’s jawbone hung limply from his face. As he reeled in yet more pain I crashed the club across his face in the opposite direction, his jaw now separating entirely from his head and flying through the air like a bloody, unexploded firework.

As half his face spiralled away from him, Assfirst came crashing to the ground in a limp, defeated heap. His "tail" fell over what was formerly his hindquarters, twitching as it lay in the soft mud. A sloppy choking noise spilled from his throat as he tried to lift his head from the blood and muck where it fell. I stepped over to where the monster that was once a pony lay sprawled out upon the ground, bringing my forehoof up to end his existence.

While my hoof lifted itself into the air, it finally dawned on me who he once was. Before he was turned into whatever twisted creature he was now, he was in my elementary class. He was a little foal who once had hopes and dreams of becoming a royal guard. He would pick fights with all of the other colts on the playground trying to get his cutie mark in bravery. Everypony in class once laughed at him when he got an erection during sex ed. He never tried too hard in school and his grades showed it. His laziness would go on to permeate into other aspects of his life as he grew older. The last year of school he took me to Spring Fling Dance. He was an awful dancer, but it didn't matter to me back then. He was the first stallion that had ever paid attention to me, and few have done so since.

I brought my hoof down, caving in his already cracked and brittle skull. I ended what remained of Caramel's life.

For what felt like an hour, I couldn't breathe.

A head flew past me and broke one of the windows of the house behind me. I heard Vinyl's voice come from the grass.

“You need better drive or you’ll never get ahead in life!” Vinyl stepped out of the brush. Her signature sunglasses were missing a lens, her baseball cap was lost to the weeds, and she had a rakish grin as she rested her battered club across the back of her neck with her magic. Badass, that was my mare. "Hey Lyra! You’re alive!" A bruise the size of a baseball was beginning to form on her right shoulder. She was rough, but we had both been worse.

"Yeah, I'm alive." I looked back down at what was left of Caramel. "What do we do now?"

"We burn this fucker down, that’s what we do. I ain't going inside to see whatever the fuck could do this to two grown stallions."

It was a good plan.

Taking out the two surviving bottles of vodka we made separate Molotov Cocktails and tossed them into the house through the broken window. Sure, we could've gone inside and tried personally fighting whatever killed Caramel and his friend, but we're not stupid. There's no point dying over something that could be easily taken care of from afar.

With the light from the fire we were able to find the last of our first bottle of vodka. Vinyl was good enough to clean and patch me up while we split it. Sad to say, of the two of us she’s had more practice with that. We split my pack of cigarettes, too, as we watched the flames grow, licking up the walls of the haunted house. We watched as the flickering lights of the second floor were drowned out by the light of the inferno, and we grimaced as the tall figure on the third floor writhed about in agony in its final moments. I wished I had grabbed another bottle of vodka.

We didn't smile until that whole fucking building came crashing down on itself just as dawn was starting to break.

Vinyl and I didn't share a word until we got back into town, only saying our goodbyes as we went our separate ways. I didn't walk home though, I came here to sit on your little park bench next to the school. I'm not here to do much, just watch the little foals pick fights with each other to try and get their cutie marks, and feel a little nostalgic for back when I was your age.

Yeah, that's how I got here.

I think I'll head home now. You all should head back to class now too, I think Ms. Cheerilee is ending recess.
> Chapter 2, or What DJs Do in Their Spare Time
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Okay, I know that before you left for some apple farm convention a week ago -- or whatever it was -- you had a barn.

I would like to keep my apology as short as possible.

I'm sorry that Big Macintosh and myself were within the vicinity of your barn yesterday when it caught fire. It wasn’t totally our fault, but I’m still sorry that we happened to be there. If anything you should be blaming Big Macintosh for being such a pussy.

Fuck you too Applejack, you know I'm not lying right now. As the Element of Honesty, I’d have thought you’d appreciate that.

Look, I’ll tell you how it happened alright, just promise you'll bear with me on this. I mean Pinkie Promise by the way, because this is gonna be a little weird and you're gonna need to work with me here if you want the whole story. Like from the beginning and everything.

Yes, the whole Pinkie Pie promise, poking your eye and all that. You can't just say "I Pinkie Promise" and be done with it. A promise is a lot like masturbating, it doesn't count if you don't finish.

Alright, I guess I can start this off when I was back at my house and you were away at Applecon, or whatever it was. I had just gotten home after I passed out at a pretty sick party.

My house is pretty cool, it’s got these two sweet couches -- one of which is a sofa bed -- an actual bed, and a kitchen. The bed is even in its own room with one of those little table things right next to it, I think it’s called a night table or something, but whatever. In the room with my awesome couches, there’s this box on the table in front of them.

This box isn’t like other boxes, you hear me? It’s like a box if boxes could take steroids, and even then it would look ripped compared to other boxes on steroids. This box is awesome is what I’m getting at. It’s made out of some kind of plastic or something, we got it after this zebra called Dallaala sold us some crazy pills at this party.

Hey, drugs happened, don’t act like you can judge me for that. I’m not some kind of little farm girl who spends her time kicking trees or whatever. Fine, since you’re all offended, I’ll just skip that and go on with the rest of the story.

Okay, I’ll give you the short of it in that case. This box shows things in another world, but only if you can see things that most other ponies can’t. Usually it only shows boring things, like some sort of weird shopping stuff from this QVC place, like the kind of things that clean dirt and stuff from the floor. Sometimes it shows movies, only they’re way better than the movies we got here! Our movies need way more explosions in my opinion. Makes the stories so much less boring. How entertaining the box is pretty much varies from day to day.

When it’s at its best, it lets me and my friend Lyra talk to these things called humans. Their names are John and Dave. John and Dave are pretty chill.

Apparently they found us while looking for something to watch on their own kickass box thing. The one named Dave has a girlfriend named Amy who had been nagging him to check out this one show in their world about ponies. Instead, they got us. Way better in my opinion; My Little Pony sounds like a stupid show.

But, anyway, John and Dave sometimes come on the kickass box thing and talk to us. At first, we just kind of had those awkward conversations that you have with ponies you barely know, like about basic things like weather and sports and stuff. Except we didn’t have sports in common with them and they can’t control weather in their world, so our conversations were even lamer than those!

Thankfully we’ve gotten less awkward as times gone on, and that day they just sort of sat there on their side of the box eating burritos. It was morning on our side, early-something, just after sunrise. I just got home from a party and figured screw it: sleep was for the weak, and this was Sunday.

“So then, what are you even gonna do today?” John asked around a mouth full of General Valdez’s Mexillent Microwave Burrito. No, I don’t know what a microwave is.

I looked around and grabbed a half-full beer can with my telekinesis. “I don’t know, probably go see my coltfriend.” I gave one of those shrugs that lets people know that I kinda don’t care, “Maybe see what he’s doing today.”

“Word.” John gave a sage-like nod, “What’s the dude like?”

I scratched my jaw with a forehoof to make it seem like I was thinking about the right words to describe the guy with. “He’s alright, I guess. A bit of a wuss, but he gets the job done in the meat department, ya feel me?” I looked at John and Dave, I was pretty sure that they’d get what I was talking about.

“No Vinyl. I really don’t want to feel your coltfriend’s meat,” Dave said flatly. “I have enough experience with my own dick, and way too much of John’s from all the drunken selfies he sends me.”

Their loss honestly. I shrugged, turning that into a yawning stretch. “Ah well, he’s pretty good at rocking the boat if you dig what I’m saying.” Dave rolled his eyes, giving me a look most opposite of digging what I was saying. “But yeah, that’s what I’m probably gonna do today.”

John grabbed a beer and raised it towards me. “Well good then, you go get some you white horse thing! Don’t let anybody stop you from getting laid!” John started laughing hard, “I hope he’s hung like a stallion!”

Let me tell you that joke was hilarious and I couldn’t even begin to tell you why.

You want me to just tell you anyway? Well me and my friend Lyra found out early on that apparently we’re on the side of the box that has the massive dicks. In their world stallions are known for having way bigger dicks than humans, which I find pretty cool.

I laughed a bit at the two weird human guys, because for as many awkward conversations as we’ve had, we’ve had some pretty cool ones to make up for them.

“Alright you guys, I gotta go.” I got up from my couch and shook out my legs. “There’s a stallion out there with my name on him, and I’ll be damned if I’m gonna get cock-blocked by a couple of people who live in a box.”

As you can see, my intention that morning wasn’t to burn down your barn, it was to give my itch from last night some deep and vigorous scratching. A bit of four-legged frolic, if you will. All told, I thought it was shaping up to be a pretty nice day at that point.

So of course as soon as I opened my front door, it went to shit.

I’d swear it looked like he had been just standing there the whole time, waiting for me to open the door for him, but it was more likely my impeccable sense of shitty timing. The coal-black pegasus pushed past me like he owned the place and strode into the middle of my living room.

“Sure, Thunderlane. Come right in. No, you’re not bothering me at all.” That was sarcasm, in case you couldn’t tell.

“It’s good to see you, too, Vinyl.”

Thunderlane is pretty good at sarcasm himself. “So what do you want?”

“Oh, nothing much. Just thought I’d drop by for a chat on my rounds.” He leaned over and sniffed at my ashtray, eying the butts therein suspiciously. “See how you were doing. Ask if you noticed anything strange going on with the ponies you were partying with last night.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at that. “It wouldn’t be a party if ponies weren’t acting strangely.”

“You know what I mean, Vinyl.”

Yeah, fine, I did know what he meant. Thunderlane seemed to be involved more often than not in a lot of the weird shit that happens around me. “Fine, if you have to know, then no, nothing strange or bizarre happened to any of the ponies I was with last night.” I couldn’t help roll my eyes at him. I swear, he has a bigger stick up his butt then Princess Twilight. “It was a party, Thunderlane. Maybe you should try actually going to one instead of just busting them all the time.”

“I don’t suppose you saw Ms. Cheerilee there.”

“The school teacher?! Pfffhh, now you’re reaching. Not a party pony that one. No fun at all. No, I did not see her there. From what I know of her, I would say an exciting night for her would be when she gets to uncap a new container of red ink for marking her student’s assignments.”

“I grew up with her. She might surprise you.”

“The most shocking thing I could possibly imagine her doing would be huffing those giant permanent markers from the school,” I shot back, rolling my eyes underneath my sunglasses. Oh, and by the way, that doesn’t work. I tried it enough growing up to know.

He sauntered up, getting right in my face. “Her roommate contacted us last night, says she went out for the evening with Lily Valley and never came home. When she finally showed up a little after dawn today, she was disheveled, glassy eyed, and couldn’t remember where she had been. She has no idea what happened to Lily, who hasn’t turned up either.” He put on that smug smile of his. “Hearing that, I immediately thought of you and the ponies you and your friend Lyra hang around with.”

“Nice to see we mean that much to you. Look, Thunderlane, I didn’t see Lyra that evening, either. I was at a party over at the Carrot’s farm. You can ask Golden Harvest or Serena yourself. I spent the whole night drinking and smoking -- tobacco, nothing else -- with a bunch of other ponies, all of legal age. They even had me spin a few tunes after their DJ almost brained herself trying to do a keg-stand. I just dragged myself home like an hour ago and was on my way for breakfast before bed when you showed up. That has been my day so far.”

“So you weren’t out at the dam, either?”

“No, damn it.”

“You trying to be funny?”

“No, I’m trying to get this wrapped up so I can go get something to eat! I was at a party last night, the whole night, and if it doesn’t involve ponies throwing up cheap beer on themselves, then I don’t know anything about it, so stop asking.”

“Just like you don’t know anything about that house on the edge of the Everfree that burned down a couple days ago.”

“I know that the place looks a sight better since it happened!” I shook out my mane and tail. The nerve and the thick head on this pony, can you believe it? “Thunderlane, look. It was carrots, booze, tunes, and home just after dawn for me. That is it. If I knew something about what you were asking or there was something that I thought you needed to know, I would tell you, capisce?”

He glared down at me from under his crew-cut silver mane for several moments. I let him admire himself in the reflection of my sunglasses. I was done justifying myself to him. “You’d better mean that,” he intoned in his most tough-and-stoic guard voice.  “I have my eye on you, and your little friend, too.”

He did that idiotic thing with his hoof where he points at his eyes and then back at you to show how he’ll be watching. Yeah, whatever. Door didn’t hit him on the tail on the way out either.

“Yeah, we got cops like that over here, too,” John opined from the box.

Pony, whatever. I had no more times for boobs in boxes or guard ponies with superiority complexes or any of that nonsense. I was on a mission that morning, and that mission was getting laid. Now that Thunderlane was finally out of the way, I headed over to Sweet Apple Acres after I grabbed a few muffins from Sugarcube Cor-

What? Why would I head to Sugarcube Corner? I hadn’t had breakfast yet, haven’t you been paying attention?

Wait, you mean why did I go to Sweet Apple Acres if I was planning on getting laid? Because my coltfriend lives here, duh, you can even ask him about me. You probably know him, he’s that big red motherfucker, over polite, says like ten words over the course of the day, and is a total bitch? You may know him for being afraid of the dark and of getting peanut butter stuck to the roof of his mouth, but that doesn’t matter, he’s my coltfriend and we get along pretty well. It helps that he’s pretty damn hot.

Yeah, your brother, that’s the guy. I was off to see him and fuck him all over the orchards.

Anyway, while I was on my-

WHAT THE FU-

HEY I-

STOP FUC-

FOR REAL THO-

I HAVE GOLF C-

IF YOU KICK ME AGAI-

ALRIGHT I-

JUST STOP I-

…

Okay, is that out of your system? Because I-

…

I can’t tell you what happened if you kick me unconscious, you know.

OW, FUCK--

Alright, there! Are you done now, are you finished? Because I can just keep you dangling up there all day long with my magic.

Wow, language like that really doesn’t become an Element of Harmony like yourself, Applejack.

…

No, no my magic is fine. No sign of it weakening any time soon. Oh, you’re done now? You’re ready for me to continue? You sure about that? Okay then.

No, I won’t let you down.

Language, Applejack! You kiss your granny with that mouth?

…

You’re really done now? Okay, I’ll continue but I’m going to leave you there for the time being. You’ve kicked me around enough for today.

So, anyway, I was just finishing my breakfast as I arrived at Sweet Apple Acres in anticipation of getting your brother to stud my personal muffin. I caught him out in the fields, working the plow and getting all hot and sweaty. A good warm up there for all the plowin’ and sweatin’ to come.

Yeah, now I’m totally fuckin’ wit’ you. Because you kicked me and you deserve it.

No, he was working the fences, doing some kind of minor repair. That allowed me to sneak up on him and give him a little nibble like I know he likes. “Hey there, Big Red.”

Yeah, I call your brother Big Red. And not because of the reason you’re probably thinking. Okay, fine, it is for the reason you’re thinking. Your brother is, shall we say, rather well-favored by nature. Still, it works either way.

“Hey, Scratch,” he replied, giving me a little nuzzle. Ummm, he smelled like musky apples, just what I needed to get my crank turning that morning. “What’re you doing here?”

“I came to see you, silly,” I explained, giving his cutie-mark a slap with my tail. “There was a party last night,” I continued, now nibbling and nuzzling up his neck. “I just got back from it and there is… something that I need you for.”

He stood there and huffed, eyes closed, as I worked up to the underside of his chin. “You went to a party without me? Again?”

“It wasn’t that I didn’t want you there,” I told him, not totally truthfully, “it’s just that I know you have to be up early and have more chores than normal, what with your sister” -- you -- “being away.”

“So what’re you doing here?”

“I needed to see you,” I replied, giving his bottom lip an affectionate tugging with mine, “I have an itch that only you can scratch.” See what I did there?

Woah, watch the hooves. Yeah, guess you did.

Your brother is a bit like a steam engine; takes some priming to get him going, but once he does, UM! Pretty good kisser, too, really knows how to use his tongue.

“Now let’s find a nice, quiet quarter of the orchard, see if we can scare awake some of the fruit bats,” I told him after he’d finished checking my tonsils.

Oh, don’t be like that, Applejack. Remember, this was the story of how your barn got burned down, not how I boinked your brother all over hill and yon. Yes, I suppose you could see the barn burning down as a good thing in that light.

Anyway, that’s when your sister Applebloom came up. “Big Brother, Granny says she needs your -- hey, who are you?”

“Um, hey kid. Uh, just a friend of your brother’s, stopping by to say hi.”

“Uh huh,” she replied skeptically. “Anyway, Big Mac, Granny Smith says she needs you to help her in the barn. Some problem with a spider she can’t reach.”

“Sure, sis. We’ll, uh, be right up.” You know, I swear he turned redder at that, almost like he was embarrassed about me.

Your little sister knew what was up, she didn’t leave us alone but insisted that Big Mac and I follow her. So, yeah, I was cock-blocked by a spider. Not the lamest reason for not getting laid in all pony history, but close. Still, I teased your brother as mercilessly as I could along the way.

“There you are, boy,” croaked your granny around the broom she was holding in her mouth. She gave a few more swipes at the spider. “Now come over here and help me.”

“Sure there’s a spider?” your brother asked as he trotted over. “I don’t really see one.”

“Oh, it’s there! Trust me, boy! Big one, too. I want him out of this barn.”

All three of them clustered around it, trying to see how best to get it down. Your Gran had a lamp with her to help try and see it in the shadows, not that it would have helped her much.

Me, I was still in the doorway, just standing there and gaping up at this… thing. Now picture this, Applejack. Imagine your barn is, like, still standing. So you go in through the door, and over on the underside of the hayloft, there is a creature that has the body of a normal fuschia-colored earth pony with three flowers for a cutie-mark, but has, like, four of these giant spider legs sticking out from its body! A pony with 100% extra legs and it was just hanging there on the ceiling and seemed to be getting ever more pissed off at what your Gran was doing to it. I’ve seen that kind of look on creatures like it before and I knew it wasn’t going to stand for that broom much longer.

“Hey! Uh, I have another idea!” I shouted from the doorway. I didn’t want to get terribly close to this thing until I had to. “How about Big Red -- uh, Big Mac and I handle this for you? A little unicorn magic, should take care of it right quick. I’m sure there’s other chores you and your granddaughter should be doing.”

Your Gran squinted at me and grunted. “That’s true.” She turned back to your brother. “Okay, Big Mac. You and your friend here deal with the spider, Applebloom can help me bring in the damaged bushels from the north field. Just try and be done when we get back.”

She shot me a wink on the way out. Sly one, your Gran. Too bad that was now the absolute furthest thing from my mind. I quickly closed the door and shot the bolt. Now we were locked in with that thing.

Big Mac came up and started nibbling my neck.

"Um, much as I might want to, we really don't have time for that now. We need to kill that spider. And we're going to need something bigger than a broom."

"We’ve got a shovel."

I gave that a moment's consideration. "That's a start. We'll probably also need a flamethrower, some napalm, and enough thermite to glass the whole of the Everfree forest."

…         

“We’ve got a shovel."

"Look, Red, you know those monsters I always tell you about to tease you?"

"... yeah?"

"Well, there’s one on your barn ceiling."

Now you can see why I'm so good at holding ponies in mid air with my magic; your brother gives me a lot of practice sometimes. He can sure run fast for a big guy.            

Anyway, don't think I’m blaming Big Macintosh for being a massive wuss. The Spider-pony hybrid thing is something me and my friend Lyra dealt with before, and it's easily one of the most sketch monsters in Ponyville history.

You know the old librarian who used to live in the library tree, Page Turner? Well she might have accidentally summoned these guys a while back in a drug fueled demonic power trip, and they're a pain to deal with. It took an entire night of golf club swinging and elaborate pit traps before we were able to kill the queen Spider-pony. We were pretty sure that we had killed the bitch before she'd laid eggs, but apparently she had popped out a little bastard before we got her for good.

Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask, do you know if your granny ever did any, uh, “baking” with old Page Turner? Because she could almost see this thing and all..? No?

   At any rate, the Spider-pony that was flitting around the loft was thankfully a lot smaller, roughly the size of your average mare. Still agile as fuck, though, and it seemed to have realized that I could actually see it.

The crazy thing somersaulted its way down to the ground level, didn't even make a friggin' sound when it landed. If it didn't have this crazy jaw problem it would almost be sorta majestic. Yet instead this asshole's jaw was split in half down the center and its jaw bones began to rattle against each other, making these awful chattering noises as it stared me down. I swear the little fucker smiled at me, and then began moving full tilt in my direction.

   Not gonna lie here, I came up with a plan in seconds knowing I couldn't levitate your brother and use your shovel effectively at the same time, so I swung your brother in between me and the monster, and drop--

   STOP IT ALREADY! FOR REAL THOUGH! IT’S NOT FUNNY ANYMORE!

   Let me explain myself! You see, this thing wasn't too big at all, and your brother is built like a train, and he was already running in midair to begin with. Basically, when I dropped him he ran headlong into the Spider and knocked it clean across the floor. Pretty flawless execution.

   “Nice job, babe!” I levitated the shovel above my head, and moved in to smash this spider. “You dug yourself an early grave spidey!” Bringing the shovel down in an overhead arch, I wound up cracking the head of it on the ground as the Spider righted itself and hustled its ass out of the way. It picked a good hiding place, too, right behind your brother.

   “Red! Lift your legs and buck that son of a bitch!” Mac, still piss scared out of his wits, just stood there and stared at me. At least until the Spider leapt onto his back and began pummeling him with crazy-enhanced spider speed. Then he started screaming like a little bitch.

   Now, this thing could've come after me all it wanted to, I honestly don't have a huge fear of death, you know? Death I just this event that's gonna happen to me someday, and if I see it coming, then I don't mind giving death the best show I've got in me. But if you fuck with the ponies I like? If you go up to my coltfriend and start beating his ass? That's some deep shit you've gotten yourself into! If ponies I care about die then I can't just replace them. Closing the distance as fast as I could, I began cursing  at the Spider and jabbing the sharp end of the shovel at its head and midsection.

   “Come on spidey!” I screamed as it shrieked from me cracking one of its ribs. “I know you're more afraid of me than I am of you! And if not, I’m gonna damn well fix that!”

   Realizing that it couldn't ignore the might of my shovel, it let out another clattering hiss and leapt off of Mac, retreating back onto the loft. Mac, thankfully able to take a few hits due to his massive frame, jumped to his feet and immediately began panicking.

   I could try and tell you what Big Mac said, but it can all be summed up by saying that I couldn't understand a single word through the blubbering. Much as I love the guy, he’s way too much of a wuss for his size. Taking a second to make sure that he wasn't too badly hurt I turned my head to the loft. Finally he began to calm down a little bit and sob his words out a little clearer.

   “And the worst part is that I can't even see it, Vinyl!” Mac turned his head towards the loft. “Can you see it? Is it gone?” Without turning my head to face him, I told Mac something that my dad told me back when I was a little filly.

   “You know Red, seeing a spider isn't too bad.” Mac's ears perked at this. I continued, “It’s losing sight of them that's scary, and I can't see shit right now.”

In hindsight that was either an awful thing to say to your brother or the best thing, as his blubbering stopped instantly and he stood stock still.

Before I could turn and try and say anything else to Mac, the sound of one thousand angry castanets straight out of Tartarus rang out from the loft as the Spider let out an ear splitting cry. Seemingly flying out of the loft, the Spider launched itself onto the wall near the barn doors. Now I would be damned if I let this thing get away without a fight! In a moment of desperation I lifted the shovel well above my head, and reared back onto my hindhooves before throwing myself forward with all of my might, using the combined force of my physical momentum and magic to throw the shovel javelin-style at the Spider.

I scored a hit against the little fucker, too! Almost got its mid-section where I had been aiming but instead sliced one of its freakishly-long spider legs and stuck the shovel in the wall. Boo-ya!

Shrieking angrily, the Spider ran across the walls circling around Mac and me until it was on the far side of the barn once more. Frantically, I began reaching out for the shovel with my magic again, because with Mac in stationary mode it was our only hope at getting out of the barn alive.

The Spider, down a leg though it might be, was far from out. Cackling like a psychopath, it threw itself in my direction before I could get my weapon loose and closed the remaining distance even faster. As I turned to the side to try and jump out of the way, the Spider lept moments before it in ran into me and drop kicked me with five of its legs. Which sucked.

Not as much as stopping, though. I almost caught one of your barn’s support pillars right in the face, instead taking it in on the shoulder which dislocated itself on impact with a disgusting pop, before I dropped hard onto the dirt floor. As I alternately tried to keep myself from blacking out or throwing up – and then blacking out – from the pain, a detached part of me decided I would stop making fun of Mac for his arachnophobia.

I lifted my head just in time to see Mac had gone into full panic mode and was bucking blindly, yelling incoherently at the Spider. Still, sometimes blind panic works; he landed a beautiful hulk-buck right on the Spider’s middle, and if it wasn’t some monster of unimaginable horror, a kick like that would have sent a pony to the moon! But since it was, your hayloft was as close as we could get it.

I took a deep breath and called out to him. “Red! RED!! You got it, Red! Now stop fucking panicking and help me up!”

His ears perked up when he heard me, his adrenaline fueled power rage calming down slightly. Mac dashed over to me, glancing around the room as he got close.

   “I got it? Really? I kinda felt something, but…” Mac's eyes began to fill with fear again. “Where is it now?”

   “Up in the loft.” I gasped and staggered as a shot of pain lanced through my shoulder from getting back onto my hooves. “It seems to like it there. Fuck it, it can have it. I need your help to get out of here now.”

“Okay. Okay, that sounds good.” His eyes were darting around the barn looking for something he couldn’t see as he carefully wrapped a foreleg around me. I realized about this point that I had lost my sunglasses, too, likely when I hit the pillar. I figured fuck it, the Spider can have those as well.

“What do you even keep up there anyway?” I asked as we both staggered back towards the door.

“Just some camping supplies and a few barrels of moonshine is all, why?”

An idea popped into my head, one so suicidally crazy that it just might work.

“Red, stop. Stop.” He looked down at me, his look of concern growing more so when he saw my grin. “Now Red, I need you to do something for me. I need you to reach deep down in-between your legs, find your balls, and get up there and grab me a barrel of moonshine. Don’t worry about the spider, I’ll be dealing with it. Now, do you think you can do that for me?”

The fear evaporated from Mac's eyes as he looked up to the loft. Strength seemed to flow through him and he seemed to stand a little taller.

“Eeyup.” Mac started off towards the loft staircase. A thought passed through my head as he ran off.

“And try not to die Red! We can't fuck anymore if you die!”

He turned to me with a smile as he got to the stairs. “Eeyup!”

Right, so your brother was all primed and ready to go. Now I just had to get my shit together. My front leg was still totally useless, the pain having thankfully diminished to a constant teeth-clenching agony from what it was before. I wasn’t going to be finishing this fight on all fours, but I sure as hell was going to finish it! I reached out with my magic and yanked the shovel out of the wall.

“Hey, Spider! Itsy-bitsy little spider!” I slapped the floor several times with my shovel. “I ain’t afraid of you! You may have got one of my legs, but I’m not done with you yet! Now come down here and die already!”

Yeah, a lot of these dark and hellish monsters I deal with don’t like being taunted, and this one was no exception. It appeared at the edge of the loft in an instant, its split jaw clattering away evilly. Oh, it did not like me. Well, the feeling was mutual. I motioned with the shovel for it to bring it.

Brought it the Spider did, launching itself at me with a ear-rending shriek.

For a moment I hoped it was going to be easy, that the Spider was going to impale itself on the shovel I held out in front of me and turn itself into a Spider shish kebab. But I wasn’t that lucky. Still, the earlier loss of one of its legs seemed to have slowed it down and I was able to slap it out of the air with the shovel as it tried to get by.

“It’s down, Red! Now go, get me one of those barrels!”

I kept the Spider at bay with a series of judicious jabs and slaps with the shovel as it skittered around me in a circle, trying to get through my defenses.  “Eh, not so damn tough now that you can't get a running start, you eight-legged little shit.” I swung the shovel across its face, knocking it back a few steps. “Oh, wait. Make that a seven-legged little shit.” I added another shovel-slap.

It did not like that at all, rearing back to howl and shriek at me.

Refusing to give the Spider any time to recover, I delivered a series of sharp jabs to its midsection with the shovel. The contrast of our two ways of fighting was beginning to show. It was a purely physical attacker that relied on its speed and agility to kill its prey, but every injury it took slowed it down further. On the other hoof, any injury I took that didn't stop me from being able to focus on my magic wouldn't hurt my capability to whack the little bastard into next week. 

My problem was that I needed a weapon. The Spider got a leg up on me -- heh -- when I tried to feed it my shovel once more. It wrapped the two halves of its split jaw around the handle and bit down. Hard. I tried to get the shovel back, tried to shake it off, but not before it managed to bite the handle clear in half.

“Oh, shit,” I muttered, looking at the splintered end that I got back.

“Scratch, I got the barrel! Now what do I do with it?”

Both the Spider and I looked up at your brother, perched on the edge of the loft with one of your barrels of moonshine. The Spider shrieked at him, crouching and preparing to launch itself at him and probably try and rip his face off .

I took the opportunity to drive my splintered shovel handle clear through one of its pony hind legs and into the floor, pinning it in place.

“Launch it straight at this thing!” I hollered over the Spider’s frenzied and agonized shrieking.  “Aim where I stuck the shovel! Let’s make some Apple Spider!”

Your brother bucked the barrel with all of his strength, launching it through the air and right on top of the creature where I had it pinned. I guess all that apple bucking pays for something after all, eh? The barrel shattered in a spray of woodchips and high proof alcohol. Not letting go of the shovel handle, I reached out again with my magic and pulled over the lamp your granny had been using earlier.

“You gotta be careful with that moonshine, pony. That stuff burns like hell when it goes down.”

That little fucker up went up like some kind of nightmare bonfire when I smashed the lamp at its feet. That was some really, really potent shine you had there, Applejack, I’m sorry we had to burn it all up. As for the Spider, not gonna lie; we rocked it. I used my magic to keep it in place until its death throes came to a halt.

About that time my adrenaline ran out and I slowly sank to my knees, my vision clouding over. My shoulder suddenly hurt a lot more than it did before and all I wanted to do was lay there before the fire and watch the Spider Pony burn.

I felt hooves pulling me away, the scent of musky apples driving the stench of burning pony from my nostrils. “Scratch! Scratch, are you okay?”

A smile stole over my lips as I turned up to your brother and gave him a kiss. “If there's anything that you get from today Red, it’s that there's nothing that a little determination, tactics, high-proof booze, and fire can't solve.”

Nothing about that day made me feel better than seeing the smile that split across Mac's face right there, and the fire that danced in his eyes. Not gonna lie, that was probably your brother's most attractive moment. Mac's smile began to fade as the fire in his eyes grew.

“Vinyl, the fire’s spreading!”

Now normally I would’ve been able to get a handle on that with my magic or such, but that fight took everything out of me, and, well, that shine of yours is a hell of an accelerant. Any other time I’d be taking charge and throwing ponies around before they realize it, but as your brother threw me onto his back and ran out those barn doors, I realized it feels pretty damn good to be on the other side sometimes. Your brother does prove useful on occasion.

And… yeah, that's how the barn got burnt down; in a fight with an evil mutant Spider-pony. Which also destroyed all your liquor. Um, I’m really sorry about that.

Anyway, we cool now? You goin’ be okay if I let you down? Alright.

So there you go. That was my apology. It was a bit more long winded than I planned on, but as you can see, nothing about this situation went as I planned it. In the end, your building might have burnt down, but at least we killed the spider. Right?

Now where's that handsome brother of yours? I’ve still got this itch from yesterday that I’m going to need him to tend to for the next few hours.

OW! Fuck!
> Chapter 3, or Why Diamond Tiara Hates Tuesdays
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Looking out one of the classroom windows of Ponyville Elementary school, I took a moment out of my currently hectic life to think about what it would have been like had I never let my father force me into trying to hang out with the Cutie Mark Crusaders. I sighed, watching the clouds roll by, and thought back to the days when it was just Silver Spoon and myself against the world, the coolest fillies in the school, with nopony's blank flanks dragging behind who needed to be babied and pulled out of their own butts whenever things went wrong.

Thursday, I was thinking of Thursday. Which was about five days ago now.

I think. Things have kinda gone downhill fast around here.

Anyway, as I’m looking out of one of the class windows watching a distant weather team move a small cluster of clouds across the clear midday sky, a loud crash from behind rudely interrupts my thoughts, followed by the deep and sinister voice of whatever is in control of Ms. Cheerilee's body.

"DO NOT TRY AND STOP MY WRATH! FOR IT IS VAST, AND UNENDING IN ITS VASTNESS!" it rumbles as it hovers above the classroom. That its voice shook the foundation of the school certainly didn’t help me ignore it. The glowing eyes and floating weren’t helping either.

Now I would usually consider this the weirdest thing to ever happen in Ponyville history, but after the past five days, this probably only ranks, like, fourth or something so far.

You see, five days ago this weirdo mare decided to tell us a really weird story. I couldn't really tell you exactly what the point of the story was. It was something along the lines of a haunted house, drinking, and hitting monsters with golf clubs as best I could make out. Basically though, the story was not considered "appropriate for fillies", and the weird mare hasn't been back since Silver Spoon and I decided to tell Ms. Cheerilee what she told us.

Normally that would be the end of this kind of thing, but oh no, not with the Cutie Mark Lame-saders around! Applebloom, Sweetie Belle, and the orange one began to obsess over the story and decided to make a plan to visit the haunted house that the weird mare told us about. I wound up going with them because daddy says that I don't spend enough time with fillies my age besides Silver Spoon and -- hold on one second, I’ll get back to that story later, there's kind of something going on here right now that you have to hear about.

At the moment, the Cutie Mark Dumbsaders are trying to ensnare the possessed Cheerilee in what appears to be an overly complicated plan involving the orange one jumping her scooter over our evil hovering elementary teacher carrying a chain that Sweetie Belle is making out of paper clips. If you can't tell how this is going to turn out by now, I'd just like to say that it isn't going to work.

"Girls! We can't let it get out of the school!" Applebloom is shouting. "If Cheerilee gets out we'll all get grounded for at least a week! Maybe two!" I can see a shudder ripple through the other fillies. I don't think that they really understand how bad it would be if we let our now-demonic teacher get out of the school, if they consider getting grounded for two weeks bad. Because I don't think daddy will let me get any more clothes for at least a month if he finds out about this. 

One second, the orange one is trying to use a flipped over desk as a ramp to jump the levitating evil-teacher-thing and wrap it up in the paper clip chain. Applebloom seems to be trying to keep the demon in place by swinging a ruler that she's holding in her mouth at it. The demon doesn’t seem to particularly care.

Hah, the plan didn't work! Called it! The orange one just sort of launched herself straight into floaty-demon Cheerilee's side when she jumped off of the desk, and that kind of ruined the whole thing right there. Now the orange one is just sort of laying on the ground on her side, groaning while Sweetie Belle keeps running around in circles crying. I hope this isn't their new plan, because this kind of sucks more than their first plan, honestly.

Now demonic-Ms. Cheerilee is vibrating in midair, she seems kind of angry. Normally I would've left a while ago, but daddy would probably get me in trouble if he found out I didn't at least try and help out with this first.

"Diamond!" Applebloom is trying to get my attention right now. Nope, I'm gonna go back to looking out my window for a bit. "Diamond you need to help us!" I know you can't see me right now, so I'll just let you know that I'm rolling my eyes because Applebloom totally pronounces 'help' as 'haaaaaalp'. "Diamond, block the door while we try to catch her with the paper clips again!" 

I guess I could get in front of the door. That way I can just walk out from there if this manages to get any lamer.

"I AM SAMODAEL, DESTROYER OF WORLDS!" Ms. Cheerilee begins to tilt backwards and float higher as the words seem to come out from her general direction. "HEAR MY WORDS AND TREMBLE MORTALS! YOUR FIRES SHALL NOT HARM ME AND I SHALL LAY WASTE TO YOUR LANDS!" He seems kind of angry at the Cutie Mark Complainers. I can understand, I’ve been there, too "I AM ETERNAL AND UNENDING! I SERVE NONE BUT KORROK!"

And, yeah, I really don’t care what else this Samodael, the eternally stupid and unendingly lame, has to say nor what that pack of blank-flanks is wailing about. I just head to the door, giving the bunch of them a flip of my mane and perfect pout as I walk by. At the moment, none of them are worth wasting any more words on.

Ohh... I think the mane-flip-pouty thing might have made the demon mad.

"FOOLISH YOUNGLING! YOU DARE DISRESPECT THE GREAT SAMODAEL OF THE REALM OF ETERNITY?" Oh yeah, he’s mad. "PREPARE YOURSELF FOR DOOM, DEATH, DESTRUCTION, AND MOST IMPORTANTLY..." this is the part where he pauses for effect like in the movies, "DOOOOOOOOOOOOM!"

Yeah, in all honesty I should just go and tell Applebloom's brother or sister about how the Crusaders just let some sort of demonic hell-spawn posses our teacher and now it's gonna go and probably break stuff or whatever it is that demons do when they get all uppity like this, but I'm not about to leave after it decides that it can talk to me like I should care about what it has to say.

Turning around to face Samodael the Great Lame-O, who probably leaves wastes of boredom and stupidity in his wake, I stomp my forehooves in a beautiful act of defiance. This thing needs to learn exactly who's in charge here! It’s getting all snarly and drooley now, and what looks like shadowy claws are starting to come out of Ms. Cheerilee’s hooves as it hovers over in my direction. This is not any way to treat the most important filly in Ponyville Elementary! I don't think this thing understands how popular I am!

"INSOLENT MORTAL!” Samodael roars as he gets closer -- and I'm gonna have to speak louder if I even want to hear my own voice! “You presume to disrespect me, even as I prepare to rend your very existence asunder!”

“Ok now, you listen up here Samofail!” Get ready to get wrecked, loser. “I don’t think you really get how this school works! I’m the coolest filly here, and I don’t have to take anything from somepony as lame as you!”

All of a sudden the rumbling stops and an eerie silence settles as the rest of the world comes to a halt. Glancing away from Samodael I can see the Cutie Mark Dorksaders all standing perfectly still, seemingly stopped in time.

While Samodael had been paying attention to me, Applebloom had apparently gotten the other Crusaders together, as right now they all seem to be getting ready for another shot at him. Sweetie Belle and the pegasus had gotten on the latter filly's scooter and seem to have picked the paperclip chain back up for another shot at lassoing him. Behind them Applebloom is frozen mid-stride with one of her shoulders dipped and her eyes closed. Apparently the new plan involves her tackling Samodael like a filly version of Troy Ponymalu.

Right, I forgot that Samodael does not like to be ignored. One of his shadow claws just lashed out and grabbed a hold of my jaw, lifting me up off the ground and bringing me face around to look into his eyes. His breath reminds me of my grandmare’s closet; all mothballs and old-pony smell.

"Now tell me child, what is your name?" Samodael's voice seems to pulse through my mind. "Tell me, what I shall write across the walls of this building after I tear you in half? Tell me what I must paint upon them when I use your severed spine as a brush and your torn open stomach as an ink well?" A deep laugh rings out that seems to be coming from the deepest, farthest back places in my mind. "When I stand above your broken and bloodied princesses, whom shall I tell them was the first of their little ponies to fall to the might of Samodael?"

Oh shit, that was hardcore as fuck! 

As I stare into Samodael's milky white eyes, I'd like to say that I'm not scared, but that would be total bullshit because this just got seriously terrifying. Before I make what will probably be my last decision in this life, I take comfort in the fact that another will rise to take my place as coolest pony at this school. I'll never forget you Silver Spoon! We would have ruled the world. As I open my mouth to speak, a single idea seems to rise up through my throat, and I can feel it coming out of my mouth in answer to the hell-spawn in front of me.

"Daily," I reply shortly, "and my first initials are I. P."

"Then so be it. Your princesses shall know that all of their kingdom, all of their realm, with all of their ponies and possessions will soon be rubble, because I. P. Daily..." Samodael pauses, and doubt creeps into his voice. "Wait, something’s not right abou-"

Not one to miss a cheap shot, especially when so beautifully presented, I swing my hind legs back and catch Samodael right on the chin, snapping it shut hard enough that Ms. Cheerilee will likely need dental work. I catch Samodael on the rebound, too, throwing both forehooves into what were once Ms. Cheerilee’s green eyes as hard as I can. Oh, I am just poking the fuck out of those eyes! Just going back and forth, over and over again. If Ms. Cheerilee doesn't turn out to be dead when this is over she's gonna need an eye doctor to get these things checked out because I'm pretty sure I've gotten in at least a dozen solid pokes by now.

Ok, the poking is done because Samodael just dropped me, and I landed pretty hard on my perfect butt. Jerk.

"AAAAAAAAAGHEGIAIIIAAA!" Samodael unleashes a scream of intensely foalish proportions. "MY EYES! THE GATEWAYS TO MY POWER! HOW COULD YOU KNOW OF MY ONE WEAKNESS?"

I don’t know if he can hear my thoughts, but you should all know that I'm totally calling him a massive pussy in my head right now, because he’s a massive pussy.

I can see that the Cutie Mark Lame-O’s have become unfrozen from time now, as Applebloom just rocketed into Samodael’s side, managing to actually knock him just off balance enough for the other two Crusaders to start circling in. Sweetie Belle's horn glows as she holds up that stupid paperclip chain and starts trying to tie up Samodael’s legs.

Ugh, those blank-flanks really don’t know when to quit with their stupid plans. Quickly getting back up on my hooves, I jump on top of my former teacher once more and start going for the eyes. Really, this seems to be the only thing that’s phased Samodael so far and I’m not afraid to abuse any weakness in my opponents.

"The eyes! Go for the eyes!" Applebloom shouts to the other Crusaders, having finally gotten a clue. Like always, they have to follow my lead. Can’t think on their own.
 
Samodael bellows in pain again as he struggles against the feeble paperclip chain that has now tied all of his hooves together. Suddenly the Crusaders are all round me pounding at Samodael’s unblinking glowy eyes, and I realize that I might feel bad for him if I did that sort of thing.

My hooves keep raining down on Samodael-The-Dumb-Dorkface-That-Thought-he-was-Cool’s head in a pretty epic royal beatdown. The Cutie Mark Weaksaders aren't doing much damage. In fact they've just been grabbed by these new weird black tendrils that have suddenly erupted from Samodael’s back. He’s just holding them up in the air. Actually, I should probably get the fuck away from here, like right now.

I was totally right about that dodging thing, just got out of the way of Samodael’s last tendril as it grabbed the space I was just standing in. Dodging another swipe by that tentacle my perfect butt gets slammed against the wall next to the door. The door that’s on the opposite side of that tendril.

I might actually be in trouble now. Shit.

Wait! The door just opened! It looks like I'll at least have some company for this. Aside from Apple Dweeb and her two dork sidekicks, that is. I hope it’s somepony that’s actually useful, like one of the Princesses or the Royal Guard.

“What in the SEVEN FUCKING HELLS is going on in here?!”

Unflinching. Assertive. Aggressive. 

Hot. 

I recognize the voice as Commander Thunderlane’s, and he’s certainly hunky enough to get saved by. I guess. Glad he could show up at any rate!

Though he is just kind of standing there dumbfounded, looking at the Cutie Mark Crusaders getting thrown around in midair.

“Cheerilee, are you alright? What's going on here?”

Shit, he probably can't see everything that’s happening! Most ponies have that problem. This calls for some Future-Miss Earth Pony magic! Samodael is laughing in his stupid evil maniacal way right now, better make my move before he starts doing that exposition crap again.

“Mister Thunderlane you need to help!” I bat my eyelashes like a scared Little Miss Earth Pony. “Our teacher took a some nasty pill and she's been acting crazy since! You need to save us!” Technically the pill part wasn't a lie.

“Drugs?” A light just went off in Thunderlane's eyes. “Cheerilee?” He sounds half disappointed now as he glances towards Apple Bloom and the others. “What are you on? And… how are you doing that with those fillies?”

Samodael looks straight at Thunderlane. His lips pull back in a snarl. “There is no Cheerilee here, only Samodael! I need explain nothing to your kind, worm!”

“This isn’t funny, Cheerilee,” Thunderlane says, his wings starting to lift from his back as he edges closer to the currently immobilized Samodael. “I thought you left that -- the drugs, the parties, all that craziness -- behind you long ago.”

My mane stands on end as Samodael’s mocking laughter oozes through my head. “I can see your thoughts, worm, pitiful though they are. You still feel for this shell, even though she has felt nothing for you.” 

Ohh, maybe I shouldn’t have called him a massive pussy afterall.

Samodael twists Cheerilee’s body and breaks the feeble chain around his feet, standing and glaring at the black pegasus next to me. The Crusaders, apparently of no more concern, are dropped to the floor, as the demon sprouts several more appendages. Judging by how Thunderlane just flinched and his wings burst open I’m guessing he can now see those tendrils as well. Samodael’s head drops aggressively, his eyes flaring bright white, and his snarls at his new adversary.

Part of me wants to hide behind Thunderlane’s strong legs, have him protect me; the rest wants to be nowhere near that gaze from Samodael.

“I see your emotions so clearly,” Samodael rumbles. “Your pain, burning deep inside of you. You live your life chasing the powers that dwell in this town, powers far beyond your comprehension, explaining them away with lies that help you and others sleep at night.” Thunderlane looks hesitant. “I come from the places beyond your knowledge, I exist in a form that your feeble minds can only comprehend the merest hints of.” More inky black tendrils have spread out and are twisting and writhing behind Samodael. His voice pounds inside of my skull, I can barely tell my own thoughts from it anymore. “I've possessed the female that you lust for, and there's not a thing you can do about it. My power is nearly at the fore, and soon this world will be mine.” The schoolhouse shakes again at Samodael’s laughter. He begins to levitate again as several more tendrils sprout from his back. They come together to form a far thicker appendage, the end resembling a hammer.

He drops his gaze once more, boring into Thunderlane. When he speaks, my bones rattle.

“Give up.”

The new hammer appendage flies towards Thunderlane, who pounds his wings and leaps into the air to avoid the brutal weapon. I just managed to avoid the blow, too, having thrown myself to one side. Oh, my perfect butt is getting such abuse today, I reflect as I drag myself away from the escalating battle.

I bump into something and turn to find it’s the Crusaders. Applebloom raises a hoof to speak.

“Ah think we oughtta leave this 'un to Thunderlane, girls! Ah think he's got this one covered!”

“Applebloom, for the first time ever I think we agree on something.” We're getting the fuck out of here now, school sucks anyway. Then Applebloom has vaulted me to get out the door, and me and Sweetie Belle can barely keep up. She’s sure fast for a blank flank! I don’t see where the orange one went.

I can hear the fight inside getting worse. There’s a horrific crash as something is thrown through the front doors of the school house and flies over our heads, causing Applebloom to trip and fall right in front of me and Sweetie Belle, taking us all down. OW! Ugh! I can’t believe I’m  gonna die because some stupid blank flank had to go and knock us all down. Loser, we’d barely gotten past the flagpole, we were still in the stupid school yard!

Look, if I was an optimist I'd say it was a desk or something that just went flying, but I’m a realist and that was definitely Thunderlane. On a scale of one to screwed, I’d say we’ve just gone full-blown donkey show.

Scrambling to get a look back at the school doors I can feel my heart jumping into my throat, pounding so loud that it almost feels like it’s gonna burst through my chest, as Samodael emerges. His eyes are glowing even brighter than before, they’re practically blinding now, a sharp contrast to the billowing shadows now almost totally covering what was once Ms. Cheerilee’s body. Even outside in the sun their darkness is total, twisting and writhing into a cat-like shape around my teacher’s already slim frame. Samodael's eyes fix on me and his laughter grows even louder, to the point where the actual schoolhouse itself is shaking. It looks like there's an earthquake trying to break the building apart, the bell on top ringing frantically as its supports rattle and crumble around it. Samodael’s claws click over the school steps as he slowly stalks towards me, crouching and ready to strike.

“Oh little ones, you’d best start running.” The shadows fully engulf Cheerilee’s face, leaving nothing but blackness and Samodael’s glowing eyes. “Because I do believe I’m going to take my time when I catch you.”

My eye contact with the monster is broken when the orange one skids to a stop in front of me on her scooter. “Get in!” she cries pointing to the wagon attached to the back. The other two Crusaders don’t hesitate to do so. They wanna run. They actually wanna run when this thing is obviously just gonna chase us down and rip all of us to tiny, bloody, screaming pieces.

The world is starting to feel like it’s slowing down again.

No! Little Miss Earth Pony is going to go out better than these blank flanks! Little Miss Earth Pony has to go out better than these blank flanks!

I leap over to the latch holding the scooter to the wagon and kick it off, sending Applebloom and Sweetie into hysterics. As the orange one turns to try and stop me, I turn as well and step in, giving her a body-check and elbow right to the face, knocking her clear off of the scooter allowing me to grab its handles. Little Miss Earth Pony should know how to handle herself in a fight!

Looking at Samodael now, I swear that the shadows on his face are curling into a smirk, taunting me to take my chances and run off. But that’s not really an option now, is it?

Turning the scooter to face him, I pound a hoof into the ground and start to charge him head on. Behind me, the Crusader’s shouts are barely registering, just an annoying backdrop to go with the demon in front of me. As Samodael reaches the gravel path, I stop the scooter and whip it high above my head, standing on my back two legs. I’m about ten yards from Samodael, my world shaking and trembling at his laugh.

Throwing all of my body weight forward, I shout and heave the scooter through the air at Samodael’s face, specifically those damn glowing eyes that won’t leave mine. The scooter flips through the air, spinning once, twice, three times as it heads straight towards its target. Just a few feet away from those evil glowing eyes.

Samodael has stopped moving forward, and the earth-shaking laughter is no longer ringing in my ears.

A tendril has shot forward, catching the scooter in mid air. Samodael’s head tilts to the side and he narrows his gaze at me.

“The eyes, always the eyes.” The shadows on his face contort into a grimace. “You see more than the others, little one. That will not be permitted much longer.” The scooter gives a metallic scream as Samodael’s tendrils squeeze and rend it out of shape. In the back of my mind, I register that I’ve fallen onto my backside. “My master will be pleased to find that he has another plaything to toss about. Maybe another toy spider? Or a little pet scorpion?” The tendrils pull back, a lump of metal now unrecognizable as a scooter falling to the ground. For some reason I focus on a single wheel as it manages to escape and go rolling down the path.

“A futile attempt at bravery, insect. You would need something far heavier and a thousand times the luck to so much as scratch me.” Samodael looks past me towards the Crusaders. “Time to finally dispose of you and move on.” The shadows around Samodael start to come together to form a hammer again, rearing back as the shrieks and cries of the Crusaders flood my hearing without mercy. 

The hammer flies down. There’s a loud crack and the world goes white.

The only sound is ringing.

I cough and try and get my hooves under me. I’m flat out on my back on the ground. My poor, abused perfect butt is in too much pain for me to be dead. I can vaguely make out cries of pain through the ringing as the world slowly fades back in. My vision is spotty at the moment, but better than nothing. Lifting my head up I see a dark figure surrounded by stormy clouds looming high above the school.

“HEY ASSHOLE!”

Thunderlane!

“NEXT TIME YOU TRY AND KILL A PONY MAKE SURE THEY’RE ACTUALLY DEAD!” Thunderlane pounds his hooves into the stormclouds around him, sending another burst of lightning into the creature that was once Ms. Cheerilee down below.

Samodael shrieks and howls as the bolts connect, shearing away his reemerging black tendrils to reveal the cerise fur of Ms. Cheerilee’s body underneath, only to have the black close in once again.

“Your fires will not burn me!” Samodael cries out. “Your weapons cannot hurt me! I serve none but Korrok and I shall tear this word apart piece by bloody piece until you have submitted to his will!”

Thunderlane’s response is another lightning barrage. But no matter what he keeps doing, no matter how many pieces he blows off Samodael, they always kept growing back.

“The eyes!” I groan, a plaintive rasp. “Why doesn’t he aim for the eyes! They’re the only thing that hurts him and besides, they’re huge glowing targets!”

“What da ya mean?” Applebloom asks behind me. “Her eyes ain’t glowin’.”

Ain’t glow..? Stupid vision, always seeing things that aren’t there! “Thunderlane!” I call out. “Hey, Thunderlane! Aim for the eyes! That’ll hurt him!”

I figured that Samodael wouldn’t appreciate me armchair quarterbacking like that. Letting out an ear piercing shriek, he turns and prepares to launch himself at me. I realize in that instant that I won’t survive his attack this time, that I’m going to die as perfectly cute little pink pony pieces scattered all over the school lawn.

Worst of all, I’m never going to get to actually be Little Miss Earth Pony!

Silver Spoon better see I get a monument for this.

Thunderlane, thank the Sun, is quicker than Samodael. With a stomp of his front hooves, he send a pair of perfectly placed lightning bolts right into the face of the pouncing demon, driving him hard into the ground.

“Funny thing about this town, jackass; around here lightning tends to strike the same place twice!”

He doesn’t stop either with just a second strike either, sending down arc and after arc, bolt after bolt, until almost all the black is burned off and Ms. Cheerilee lies in a twitching heap on the ground. I can see the glow on her eyes flicking, like Samodael is just barely holding on.

“Cheerilee! Cheerilee, are you there? Can you hear me? Are you alright?” Thunderlane calls down from his clouds.

Samodael raises Cheerilee’s head, her body wracked as Samodael convulses and coughs up a puddle of foul looking black bile. He turns and looks up at Thunderlane, twitching with the effort of holding his gaze. “You vermin think yourselves strong when luck swings your way, but you’ll all die soon. You’ll be hunted down and slaughtered like the rats you are!” A weak chuckle cracks from Samodael. “Your luck will run out soon, little ponies.”

Thunderlane just closes his eyes and gives a sad shake of his head. He quickly weaves together the electricity in his storm clouds and with a mighty stomp sends down the whole charge into the dimly glowing eyes of Samodael.

The lightning strike itself is blinding, but the resulting unexpected explosion sends me flipping tail over teakettle. I can’t even tell if it’s one explosion or two that happened.

I groan into the gravel and spit out a muzzle full. Dirt, I shouldn’t be eating dirt. The sound of wings over the ringing in my ears causes me to look up and I struggle to my hooves just as Thunderlane comes in for a landing in front of what used to be the front of the school house.

Suddenly the Cutie Mark Crusaders are all around me, picking me up and putting me back on my hooves, Sweetie Belle dusting me off. But I can’t look at her, I’m too transfixed on the school.

The entire front is demolished and there’s a huge black scorch mark out front where Samodael was moments before. The large bell in the tower has come crashing down and I see Thunderlane pawing through the debris, throwing pieces to the sides as he searches for something. I quietly creep closer to find out what, the Crusaders silently on my hooves.

My brave, brave pegasus sits back with a thump, his wings limp and off to the sides. I can make out the agonized groan of “Cheerilee…”

I can see her now. I can see her and, oh, by Celestia she’s dead! She has to be but she can’t be! This isn’t supposed to happen, she can’t have… Sweet Celestia, no!

My breath escapes in a sob and I stagger, my eyes tearing over. When Samodael was killed, the explosion blew us all back but it seems to have blown Ms. Cheerilee into the school itself, with enough force that she ended up taking down the whole front. The large bell in the tower came crashing down, too, landing on top of her and pinning her to the ground. There is blood on her hooves and around her mouth. And her eyes, so much around her eyes.

Ms. Cheerilee, Ms. Cheerilee, no! Celestia take it back, no!

“My sweet Cheerilee,” Thunderlane moans above her as he leans forward and brushes her face gently with one of his wings. “I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry.”

We all jumped when she twitched, when her eyes shot open. She tries to struggle, but Thunderlane is right there, holding her still as he whispers comforting words to her.

“Th-- Thunderlane? Is that you? What -- what happened?”

“It’s me, Cheeri,” he whispers back. He strokes her mane back from her forehead. “You’ve been in a very bad accident, my dear. I need you to stay very still for me. Can you do that?”

“What… what happened, Thunderlane?” I can clearly hear the panic in her voice. “Why I can’t I feel my hind legs?”

He continues to whisper soothingly to her and stroke her mane. When he leans down to give her a comforting nuzzle that’s when he finally see the four of us gawking.

“What the hell are you doing just standing there?” he roars at us. The tears in his eyes mirror my own. He throws his hoof in the direction of town. “Go get some help!”

We all flinched at that but we all nodded and we all ran. If it wasn’t for the orange one in front of me leading the way I couldn’t have seen where I was going through the tears.





Waking up groggily, I lift myself out of bed with a deep groan and look out my window. My room. I’m in my room. I ran away from the school and passed out in my room. It’s night time now, the moon the only light here, casting its soft glow on my door. Shuffling over to it, I decide to go get myself a drink of water. A feminine voice calls out from the shadows in my room behind me.

“So you’re finally up.”

I can feel myself flinch. Little Miss Earth Pony should never flinch like that. I ignore her and open the door, moving to the stairs to head down to the kitchen. I stop when I hear the two voices below, one speaking my name.

“I’m sorry about all of this officer, but I’m asking you to just let her get some sleep tonight. You can talk to her in the morning.” It’s my dad’s voice, he’s talking to Thunderlane. I softly inch closer to the banister, careful not to make any noise. “If I may ask though, what exactly happened down at the school?”

“I understand, this has been a stressful day for all of us in Ponyville, we can only be thankful that nopony else got hurt besides Cheerilee.” There’s a pause. “What seems to have happened is that a gas leak broke out in the school and it was ignited by some errant storm clouds that drifted over from the Everfree before the weather patrol could clear them. There was a lightning strike as Cheerilee let the fillies out of detention, and, well, it ended up bringing down most of the building.”

Bullshit. 

“A real shame. Cheerilee was a good influence for Diamond. The filly has never had a mother to look to for guidance, Cheerilee was the strongest motherly figure in her life. A real kind mare. Do we know how she’s doing? Is there any chance that she’ll make it through?”

“A slim chance, the doctors say, but still a chance. She’ll never be able to walk the same again though. Her back was severely injured. She’ll be weeks, if not months in the hospital.”

“That’s tragic, just tragic. She’s a wonderful mare, she doesn't deserve something like that.”

A sign. “No, no she doesn’t. But Cheerilee’s a fighter, she’s got some strength in her. We grew up together and… yeah, if there’s anypony that could beat the odds, I’d say it’s her.”

“Ugh. Diamond will be absolutely crushed over this. It’s no wonder she got tuckered out so quickly. She was never meant for much physical activity honestly, and the stress of what happened at the school must have been too much for her. She’s always had these silly dreams about being Little Miss Earth Pony, but she’s just too delicate for something like that.”

“I believe she was quite brave, she seemed to have herself together better than the other fillies who were at the scene.”

“Hm. That was the little Apple girl and her friends if I recall correctly? How are their families holding up to this?”

“Shaken up for sure, but just glad to have their daughters home safe and sound for the most part.”

“Good, good. Thank you for the visit officer, you’re free to come in anytime tomorrow to talk to Diamond, but please keep in mind that this is going to be a hard time for her. I think it would be best to wait until the afternoon.”

“Understood, Mr Rich. Now I have some paperwork to go fill out. I hope you have a good night.”

“And the same for you.”

As the front door opens and shuts, I can feel tears brimming in my eyes again. I walk to my room and close the door gently to avoid making a sound. My drink can wait ‘till morning. Quietly I get back into bed and slip under the covers, wanting nothing more than a good night’s sleep. The voice in the shadows speaks up again.

“So the guard showed up, eh? What did you do? Kill another pony?” 

“Shut up! I didn’t kill anypony.” That came out as more of a pathetic whine than I wanted it to. I roll my pillow to cover my ears, turning away from the voice. “Daddy says it wasn’t my fault.”

A wheezing laugh cuts through me like a knife. “Not your fault? Well, why not. Maybe we can blame him for that, too. The Sun knows he’s to blame for so much already.” I couldn’t see the flame but I could hear the click of the lighter followed by the puff of a cigarette in the darkness. “Hell, if it were up to me, you wouldn’t even be here. It was all him that wanted the two foals and a white picket fence and all that shit, and nothing would stop him from getting it.”

I can feel the tears streaming down my face at her words. I lunge for my night table and grab a book from it, turning and flinging it in her direction. “I don’t wanna hear you okay? Just shut up!”

She steps out of the shadows and into the dim glow of the moon, the book having sailed harmlessly through her and crashed into the wall behind. A sick smile spreads across her face.

“Now Diamond, is that anyway to speak to your dearly departed mother?”

I start to cry.

> Chapter 4, or How Thunderlane Had One of Those Days
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Long nights tend to have a terrible habit of proceeding even worse days, at least, that’s how Thunderlane’s mother always told it. She was a kind, hardworking mare, the kind that Ponyville has always prided itself on. She had helped take care of the Apple children along with Granny Smith not long after the two parents had died. To this day Applejack tells it that Thunderlane’s mother would’ve been the element of honesty if she were still around when the Nightmare Moon fiasco had gone down. She was hardworking and took on three jobs after Rumble’s father had died just to keep their family going. It would be difficult for Thunderlane to forget about the lessons she imparted to him before she passed away. Promptness, she had always said, was the key to success.

Thunderlane thought she’d be very disappointed Ponyville’s own Mayor Mare.

Official office hours of the Mayor of Ponyville have always been set to start every morning at 8:30 AM sharp; as in she should in her office and ready to do her job at 8:30, no later. Thunderlane glanced to the clock on the wall. It was 8:52 now.

Really, this whole thing could have been over and done with already had the Mayor been on the ball.

Twice over, probably.

Thunderlane's ears perked as he heard voices coming from the other side of the door and the stairs creak. He couldn’t help glance at the time. 25 minutes late was a fairly early day for the Mayor in his experience.

“Mayor Mare, ponies are worried. Are the recent acts of arson related to yesterday's catastrophe at Ponyville Elementary School? And should the ponies of Ponyville be concerned about the safety of their homes and families?”

A reporter no doubt. They had the tendency to crawl away from their usual inane stories about the simpler parts of life in Ponyville to make the most out of these events when they happened. They always seemed to have this sick fascination, in Thunderlane’s opinion, with morbid things.

There was a pause before Mayor Mare spoke. Thunderlane could mentally see her adjusting her glasses like she always did when trying to stall for time.

“Now as I told your compatriot at the the Ponyville Express, Miss Inkwell, with Ponyville's finest on the job there will be no more accidents going on while we're on watch.” The sweet, almost motherly tone the Mayor spoke in never wavered. “And that’s what they are; accidents. Since there are no criminals or culprits behind these accidents they will be treated as such. Do you understand that Miss Inkwell? Accidents.” There was a pause. Thunderlane could hear papers shuffling as Mayor Mare opened the door and entered the room. “Now if you'll excuse me Miss Inkwell, I have a meeting with one of the town guards to attend to.” The reporter made an attempt to slip into the room.

“Yes Miss Mayor, but if you wouldn't mind I'd like a word with officer Thund-” The Mayor cut her off.

“Yes yes, now Miss Inkwell, you'll have all of your interviews, but I have important business to take care of first.” The door was firmly closed before the reporter could get another word in. “You know, officer Thunderlane,” Mayor Mare said as she turned and made eye contact with Thunderlane for the first time, her usual prize winning smile still stuck on her face, “you really make my life hell.”

Mayor Mare moved around Thunderlane's seat to sit behind her desk. It was a rather large desk in Thunderlane's opinion, larger than anypony would ever need. It was cluttered with official looking paperwork and pictures of the Mayor at different events around town; cutting the tape in front of Sugarcube Corner for its grand opening, giving the Elements of Harmony medals after Discord's defeat, and other events where Mayor Mare had put herself front and center. Behind it was a chair that Equestria's own Princess Celestia might find a little too much, towering well above the Mayor's form even if she was standing. Currently Thunderlane could only sit still as he heard the clinking of bottles as Mayor Mare rummaged through the large fridge underneath her flashy desk. Any kindness in the Mayor's voice before was lost as she brought up a bottle of Cheval Regal and a drinking glass.

“Most officers would wait outside of their Mayor's office, Thunderlane. Do you mind telling me why you decided to break in?” Mayor Mare raised an eyebrow as she poured a glass of whiskey. Thunderlane adjusted himself in his seat.

“Most Mayors arrive for their meetings on time.”

Mayor Mare threw back her head and gave a rough laugh. “That's something I like about you Thunderlane, all business. No trying to hide how you feel or explain your particular...” the Mayor spun a hoof lazily in the air with a sigh as she ducked under the desk once more, “proclivities.”

Thunderlane sat a little taller as the Mayor came back up with a few cubes of ice. “I try to keep myself honest ma'am, it’s the least measure a stallion can hold himself to.”

Mayor Mare dropped the ice into the drink, swirling the glass in her hoof before placing it in front of Thunderlane and taking a long drink straight from the bottle.

“Thunderlane, are you up for a little tipple to start the day?” A serene smile spread across Mayor Mare's face. Thunderlane flinched at the soft tone of her voice.

“No ma'am. It’s unprofessional to drink before or during a day's work.”

Mayor Mare nodded sagely as she leaned forward in her large chair and placed her bottle on top of some very important looking papers. All kindness left her face as she grabbed Thunderlane’s glass and launched forward, flinging the bitter drink in his face.

“You really could've fucking fooled me yesterday, you little bucket of shit!” Thunderlane stood still as the Cheval Regal ran down his coat. “If I didn't have a soft spot for your little brother he'd have woken up to a world where you're dead at the bottom of a fucking lake!”

“Thank you for your kindness, Miss Mayor.” Thunderlane flinched as Mayor Mare shattered the glass on the floor beside him.

“Kindness? Kindness isn't what stopped me from firing you so fucking fast your head would spin!” Mayor Mare leaned back into her chair. “Do you remember why I first let you join the local guards? Do you remember the exact words I told you after you got your commission?” Thunderlane scowled at the words.

“That it was a political move. You wanted the good publicity from hiring an orphan too old for an orphanage with a little brother.”

Mayor Mare raised her bottle in approval, nodding at him as though he were a small but dim foal that had just answered a patronizingly easy question. She took another slug of whiskey.

“Do you get it Thunderlane? I hired you for your value to me. You have everything you and your brother do, because you have value to me.” Mayor Mare stole a quick glance at the small remainder of liquor in her bottle. “I keep you around to make sure this town has the very best public image possible. Do you understand this?” Thunderlane nodded. “So what do you think I expect you to do for me around town?”

“Keep the peace and maintain the privacy of Ponyville's citizens.”

Mayor Mare's motherly demeanor returned. “Very good, Thunderlane! And take Rumble out around the town some, go get some ice cream with him while you’re on duty one day.” Mayor Mare leaned across her desk and pinched Thunderlane's face a little too aggressively. “Don't you want to be a happy, positive role model for Rumble instead of a loon chasing ghost stories and junkies down on the south side of town?” Thunderlane shook his head out of Mayor Mare's grasp.

“I want Rumble to live in a safer town, where he doesn't have to worry about some coked up psycho shivving him if he takes a wrong turn and ends up on the side of town we try to forget about.”

Mayor Mare adjusted her glasses and took another drink from her bottle as she shrugged. “Just go out and buy the kid a map.” She went for another drink, but tossed the bottle aside when she realized it was empty. “What the hell would you have me do about all of that? South side has been a shithole for decades, and it’s gonna be a shithole for many more decades to come.” Thunderlane’s eye twitched. “That place is an absolute wreck kid, best to keep the undesirables penned up on the side of town where royal inspectors don’t even try to check.” Thunderlane couldn’t take it any longer and moved forward to put his front hooves on the desk.

“If it was up to me I'd have you call in some military reserves from Canterlot to find out what the hell is seeping out from the Everfree! We can't keep ignoring whatever the hell is wrong with this town so you can--”

“SO WE CAN WHAT, THUNDERLANE?” Mayor Mare rose up to meet Thunderlane's gaze, her own burning with indignation. “Have a fucking repeat of when you convinced me to call up the militia over the whole Page Turner incident, so you could get your balls off to everypony freaking out over your conspiracy theory bullshit?”

Thunderlane visibly scowled. “Page Turner was tainted by something evil as hell itself, Mayor Mare! Everything we did to track down what--”

“Do you even listen to yourself speak anymore, Thunderlane? You're turning out to be a madstallion!” Mayor Mare fell back into her chair and brought a hoof to her head, settling down for a moment. “One week unpaid leave effective immediately. We'll tell the press it’s a mental health break.” Thunderlane fell back into his seat.

“Mayor Mare, that's ridiculous!”

“Don't tell me what's ridiculous and what isn't, officer. I'd have your badge for the next six months if the town didn't need to believe that this is an act of courtesy and not punishment for the immense amount of bullshit you've put me through.” Mayor Mare sighed and took off her glasses as Thunderlane could only brew silently over his suspension.

“You know kid, I do understand where you're coming from with all of this.” Thunderlane's ears perked as the Mayor wiped dust off her glasses. “There was a time when I wanted to be the perfect Mayor for this town, clean up the rough parts, make everywhere as safe to go as downtown. But there comes a time when we have to realize that we can't make it all okay, that sometimes we have to put on a pretty face and make everyone think that it’s all going to be fine.” Mayor Mare held her glasses out to Thunderlane. “You know Thunderlane, I've never even needed these things to see. My vision has been absolutely fine my entire life, but the citizens of Ponyville want an educated looking Mayor in Town Hall.” Mayor Mare put her glasses back on. “So everyday I put on these fake glasses and make sure to dye my hair gray regularly, because that's what it takes to make these ponies feel like they're being lead in the right direction. Can you do something similar for Ponyville's sake? For Rumble's sake?”

Thunderlane stood from his seat dropped his badge on the Mayor's desk. “I can put on a smile and act like everything is okay when I don't have to check the shadows for monsters every night, Mayor Mare.” Thunderlane stood taller. “I can tell Rumble that it’s all okay when I can convince myself that actually is.”

Mayor Mare shook her head disapprovingly. “You're obsolete kid. You're a hard headed guard in a town protected by six mares who can keep this town safer than you ever could. You need to nut up and face the fact that the guard presence in this town is for comforting the people, not scaring them by hunting down every rumor spread by a few junkie mares down on the south side telling monster stories or little fillies scared about the monster under their beds.” Mayor Mare brushed a hoof towards the door. “Just get out there and do whatever it is you need to relax. Reunite to some old friends, have a few drinks, get yourself laid, whatever. Just go out there and unwind for the next few days. That’s an official order.”

Thunderlane stormed out of the office and slammed the door behind himself, stomping harshly out of Town Hall with his wings twitching angrily at his sides. The Mayor couldn't give him orders if he wasn't allowed to wear his badge. He needed to take advantage of the next week without the restraints of his work holding him back. Bursting into Ponyville’s main marketplace Thunderlane set a straight course back to his home looking to avoid any contact with any citizens who might be out and about in the morning. 





Korrok.

The name... or title... or whatever it was hung in Thunderlane's mind. It was something of significance, something that had threatened Ponyville before. It wasn't natural and it wasn't something that could be dealt with easily. The first time he had heard it spoken was at the mortuary, having been sent to make sure nobody pried into the Page Turner incident and keep the body out of sight when it was moved. Mayor Mare hadn't wanted to take any risks that day.

It was the word that Page Turner had shrieked while him, the mortician and two other officers tried to restrain her impossibly reanimated body on the autopsy table.

The word seemed to haunt him after that. It had been carved innumerable time into the walls of the town library alongside dozens of Page's insane carvings. Thunderlane had walked through the library in the aftermath of the whole incident, tasked with sanding away those mad words and scribbles to, in the Mayor's words, “keep the number of ponies who may panic to a minimum.”

Thunderlane hadn't been to the building since then. He wasn’t much for reading anymore it seemed.

Korrok wasn't something that couldn’t be ignored any longer though. Whatever this thing was, it was clearly a threat, and a completely unknown threat at that. Whatever that creature was from the day before, it spoke the same word as Page Turner, and Thunderlane would not blow that off as coincidence, no matter if the Mayor could.

Off duty or not, Thunderlane was off to investigate and his first stop was clear. The young filly from yesterday, Diamond Tiara, had apparently been able to see more than himself or the other girls. The young Apple filly had told him as much last night when he visited. Applejack had told him privately afterwards that Vinyl Scratch may also be a help as she had recently admitted to being able to see something that was there that Big Macintosh couldn't. Thunderlane knew it involved the recent barn fire at Sweet Apple Acres, but nothing beyond that. He had pried for details but Applejack was adamant on not divulging more than she had to.

That the local DJ and her friend may know something about this Korrok seemed almost certain at this point given their involvement in the Page Turner incident. Still, Thunderlane did not want to go down that path unless he had no choice. Those two were a drain on society at best and a genuine safety concern at worst. Things happened to burn down around them fairly frequently, and not just cigarettes and marijuana. 

No, there were other sources to exhaust before even considering those two. A certain book in the library came to mind, but it could wait. There was another, hopefully more promising lead to follow first.

As the off-duty officer entered the tall shadow of the Rich residence, he took a deep breath to recompose himself and refocus at the task at hoof. While by no means a mansion, it was quite a bit larger than anything in the area. From the gate Thunderlane could see the edge of the Everfree, something that most of Ponyville's higher ups preferred to avoid, but the Rich family was one of the oldest established families in town and not one that was easily questioned. 

As Thunderlane approached the door, he thought the house excessive for just a father and daughter. He took care of Rumble in a small apartment on a town guard's salary only a few blocks away and that was more than enough space for the two of them. Thunderlane dropped the heavy knocker on the door with a solid satisfying crash. In moments the door dragged slowly open and a little head popped around the corner before gasping and ducking back inside. The off-duty officer had to stifle a small laugh as he heard the muffled voice of a frantic little filly call to her father to get the door while she did her mane. Within moments the head of the family pulled the door open with a broad grin.

“Officer Thunderlane, you’re here earlier than expected today. No matter. As you saw, Diamond is already awake. Come on in, it’s a  pleasure to have you.” While by no means looking unkempt, Filthy Rich was dressed down from when Thunderlane had seen him in the past. Without his signature tie and slicked back hair you could almost mistake him for a completely different stallion. As his locks lasily knocked about on his brow, he appeared far less the tightly kept stallion of wealth and more of a free spirit.

“Not officer today.” Thunderlane shook his head slightly as he walked through the door. “I've been put on leave to get some rest in light of the incident at the school. I would just like to try and finish my talk with your daughter from yesterday, though in an unofficial capacity.” 

Filthy Rich nodded his head, but stopped short when he caught a wiff of something. His nostrils flared a few times before a frown appeared on his face. He cocked his head to the side, his expression making clear his unasked question.

Thunderlane’s ears backed as he dabbed a hoof at his still damp coat, ducking his head in chagrin. “Just because the Mayor gave me leave this morning does not mean I was able to totally avoid some of Ponyville’s roudier citizens. Sometimes ponies just don’t appreciate the job you do, even when you have their best interest at heart. I apologize for not cleaning up before coming here, I just… don’t want to leave this any longer than I have to. I’m sure you can understand.”

“I understand completely; work out the details of yesterday and come to terms with the events, I know what to say to the Mayor if she asks.” Thunderlane raised a brow quizzically as Filthy Rich turned his head to check for his daughter. “I feel I wouldn't be wrong to assume that the official story you told me last night is not the one that should be believed?”

Thunderlane opened his mouth to contradict Filthy before changing his mind. “The situation played out differently than what the general public has been informed of.”

Filthy Rich turned back to face the officer. “I thought as much, I've lived around the Everfree long enough to know that 'errant stormclouds' aren't the most likely threat to our children.” Filthy Rich shook his head as his pleasant demeanor smoothly shifted to a look of contempt. “That explanation will suffice for those who are determined to believe it though. I doubted a stallion like you would come on a day off to discuss dealing with tragedy. What is it you really want to know?” Thunderlane remained steady under the gaze of Ponyville's most influential stallion.

“Just to clarify some of the events that happened yesterday, to be more prepared going forward.” Thunderlane leaned towards the other stallion. “I've spent years taking care of my brother, same age as her. I know how foals can be. I won't push for answers. This is a delicate time.” Filthy Rich eased slightly.

“I can tell you now that you won't get much in the way of answers. The minds of children are fickle things.” Filthy Rich motioned for Thunderlane to take a seat as he went down onto a chair himself, a coffee table separating the two. “The library may be more helpful,” Rich blurted in a forced and offhand manner. “After all, it’s a place full of stories for a town that's been the scene of many.”

Thunderlane opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted before he could make a sound.

“Hello, Little Miss Earth Pony has arrived!” Thunderlane turned to the young filly and put on a friendly smile. He'd get no answers today, but the knowledge that Filthy Rich might know something more than the average pony, and that he wasn't on the same page as the Mayor, would be enough for this trip.





        Korrok.

No matter how much he turned the word over in his head it still held the same power in Thunderlane's mind. It took the joy out of a walk across town, it took the taste out of his food as he ate. Not that he was one to enjoy either very much; focus was key to his success, the reason why he had gotten as far as he had. Without focus he couldn't—

“Thunder, you're spacing out again,” Rumble stated matter of factly. “What's going on?”

Thunderlane grinned.        “Nothing you need to concern yourself about, squirt.” The pegasus  officer shoved his little brother playfully with a wing. “Just trying to figure out what you and me are going to be doing on our sudden week off. I’m doing fine bro, but maybe you should spend more time thinking about what you want to get while we’re at the library?”

Rumble pouted harshly. “I don't know. I was just going to ask Miss Twilight what I should read.”

Thunderlane smiled despite himself as they approached the library tree. “How about those Daring Do books you love? I'm sure they've got a few laying around the library.”

Rumble groaned loudly. “Those books are for babies, Thunder! I don't read those anymore. I read the newspaper yesterday. I'm too old for silly stories. I'm paying attention to the important stuff now.” Thunderlane couldn't help but laugh.

“Let me know when you figure out what that is, I'd like to know myself.” Rumble pouted harder and focused on the road ahead, giving Thunderlane a moment to think while his brother was lost in his own little world of damaged pride.

The older brother hadn’t intended on bringing his brother along on his search, but when he returned home for something to eat after his long morning, his brother refused to stop bothering him until he knew Thunderlane's plans for the rest of the day. Thunderlane believed that Rumble was in fact less interested in the books and more interested in seeing the world famous librarian. 

As the library grew closer Thunderlane took a moment to reflect on the events at the Rich residence. Apart from his discussion with the head of the house there was little that helped in his investigation into whatever this thing that threatened Ponyville was. More doting and friendly conversation than useful information, Mr. Rich had made sure that the conversation didn't veer away from his desired outcome. Diamond Tiara reminded him of his brother when he thought about it, both pouty and self righteous in her own endearing way. Still, he knew how to read his brother well enough to tell when the colt was wanting to talk to him about something but couldn’t say it because of other ponies around them. He had gotten that vibe several times from the little Tiara filly during their conversation, first when he had asked why she had been in detention and later if she had recalled her teacher saying she might have been feeling sick or unwell.

Thunderlane shook himself of the thoughts, now was a moment to focus. This was an important moment. It had been quite some time since he had last been to the library since being sent to sanitize it so the doors could be reopened to the public. Thunderlane wasn't so much scared, but rather sobered by the coming moments. As he stepped up to the door with Rumble he took a split second to reflect on the building. It seemed to draw the unseemly. The door opened in front of Thunderlane and he stepped through.

“Gah! How do you keep doing this? I'm not even at my house and you do this!” Thunderlane turned his head to the pony he just stepped by. Ponyville's local children's party DJ Vinyl Scratch glared back at him, having just dropped the two books she had been carrying. “Is this just something guard ponies can do, like voodoo or something?”

Thunderlane shot a wing out and scooped the first book up before Vinyl could grip it with her magic and brought it to his face. “It's not a guard thing, more of a personal hobby, Ms Scratch,” Thunderlane gazed at the cover of Dr. Retina Scan's Guide to Optical First Aid. The white unicorn opposite him had already snatched up the second, keeping it well back from them in her pale blue aura of magic. “Besides, I'm off duty. Wouldn't want keep all my surprises on the clock. Better to keep you on your guard this way.” Vinyl glared harder at Thunderlane as Rumble stepped into the library. After a tense moment Thunderlane dropped the book from his wing, barely suppressing his smirk as he watched Vinyl scramble to catch it with her magic.

“Yeah, whatever you say you dirty son of a…” Vinyl tilted her head and paused as she seemed to notice the little colt in earshot for the first time. “Asshole.” PG was not a setting that this mare had. A scolding voice rang out from above.

“Vinyl! Could you please watch your language?” Ponyville's unicorn librarian called from the top of the stairs as she started down towards the group. “This is a family building as well as my home, I'd prefer you to act as you would want guests to behave in you home.”

“I'm not sure if that's exactly what you want, Ms. Sparkle,” Thunderlane spoke before Vinyl could collect herself. “Usually ponies send me noise complaints when Ms. Scratch has guests over.” The musical mare huffed indignantly.

“Whatever. I'm going home now.” With that Vinyl shoved her way past and stormed out of the building.

“Sorry about that, Thunderlane, she's not exactly a regular in the library.” Twilight Sparkle looked down at Rumble, her face lighting up in a delighted smile. “Unlike somepony who just walked through the door. I bet you begged your brother to come here so you could pick up the new Daring Do book!” Rumble blushed and stared aggressively into the floor under the mare’s gaze. Thunderlane didn't even try to hold back a laugh as his little brother nodded sheepishly and followed the famous librarian to the Young Pony literature section.

After his small moment of serenity, Thunderlane zeroed back in on the task at hand. He didn't come here just to get in the local DJ’s face and watch his little brother squirm in the face of his foalhood crush, enjoyable as those activities might be. Thunderlane looked at the walls of the library. They still looked freshly sanded from that night even after all of this time. The off-duty officer moved towards a little used alcove in the magic section in search of a book that was believed to have been the start of the Page Turner incident. A book bound in what appeared to be leather and closed with a lock. Thunderlane repressed a shudder at the gruesome thought. Many of those on the scene that day wanted that book destroyed, but instead their concerns were swept under the rug by a Mayor who didn't want to be accused of book burning over a case that the public was told was a simple accident. 

The Occult Magic sub-section was home to old and often very old books that covered the beliefs about magic and the world held by the three pony tribes before they united to form Equestria. Page Turner had what turned out to be an unhealthy interest in the subject, before the incident, and had built a modest but rather impressive collection of books on the matter. Having reached the small, back corner of the library where Page kept her collection, Thunderlane spared a quick look around to make sure he was alone and then craned his head up to check on the books. While tucked in high and far back on the shelf, they appeared to still be there.

Thunderlane spread his wings and brought himself up to the top section of shelves where Turner kept those book. Like him, she was a pegasus and used her ability for flight to stash books in practically every available nook and cranny in the library. Twilight, while a unicorn and able to access those nooks and crannies just as well via her magic, hadn’t delved into this section as thoroughly as she had others it seemed. By the look of the dust settled atop them, Thunderlane could see that the new librarian wasn't as interested in the subject matter as her predecessor. All for the best.

His eyes darted around in search of the particular volume. The Cult of Captain Hail, Worshippers of Old Equus, The Shadow of Antlertis, Humans: Legend or Dark Secret? None of these were what he was looking for. The book he was looking for didn't have a name on the cover. After a minute or two of searching Thunderlane lifted his head and barely held a curse on his tongue. There was a clean space on the shelf in just the right size for the book by his recollections. That children’s DJ must have actually beaten him to the book somehow. Thunderlane let out a sigh as he realized he now had no choice and would have to spend tonight dealing with the last ponies he wanted to.

“Is there anything I can help you with officer?”

Thunderlane looked down to the librarian’s dragon assistant. With a sigh, he floated back down and settled his wings.

“Yeah. I'd like to go see what my brother is looking at, maybe pick him up something extra.” Tonight was going to be a long and awful night, best to make the most of the daylight with his brother.





Thunderlane’s mother always told it that long nights preceded terrible days, and while he had enjoyed going to the park with Rumble, cooking dinner for two, and actually spending the day off as he had been ordered to, he knew that tonight was going to be something that would turn the whole day sour. Which in turn would probably ruin tomorrow as well. Thunderlane hated how these things tended to work.

As it stood, he found himself roaming the streets of Ponyville’s low cost housing, moving towards the sound of partying. Normally he would be headed this way with his badge and hoofcuffs; instead he had a box tucked under a wing meant to act as his “in”. Undercover work was far from his specialty. In fact he was a terrible liar and he knew it, but this all worked out. Mayor Mare demanded he get out on his time off and this would be the perfect combination of investigation and cover story.

A visit to his friend Filthy Rich, a visit to the library and park with his brother, a decent dinner at home, ending with a few drinks with the locals at one of the regular neighborhood gatherings. It was the kind of image that Mayor Mare wanted from her officers. Had it not been for the sake of giving Rumble the most of his time, Thunderlane would have probably lost his mind. He was dedicated entirely to his work — he had a passion for it even — and what he was about to do went against every facet of his moral code.

The off-duty officer paused for a moment as he arrived at the home of one of the two of his long time adversaries. Drunk ponies were already scattered across the lawn in various states of inebriation. The house was in absolute shambles. Lyra Heartstrings was not one to keep her house in order, as the gaggle of drunk ponies milling about the lawn suggested. Beer cans were tossed all about and Thunderlane estimated that he could rack up quite the large littering ticket if he had the mind to. Instead he adjusted the thirty-pack of PBR beneath his wing.

Thunderlane stepped up to the door and waited a moment, and then brushed past Vinyl as the door swung open.

“So I tell this guy th- OOF!” Vinyl turned to face the officer. “Hey! What the hell are you doing here, Thunderlane?!” The sounds of the party died instantaneously at the mention of his name, a few ponies even diving out open windows. Thunderlane took all that as a bad sign.

“I'm just here to have a good time, Vinyl,” he replied in an effort to try and diffuse the situation. "Heard something was going on tonight and thought I'd drop on by, figured I could have a good time.” He swung around the thirty-pack on a wing. “Look, I even brought a peace offering.”

Vinyl opened her mouth to speak before Lyra emerged from the crowd of confused ponies still looking on in fear of arrest.

“This is my place Vy, I can handle this.” The DJ sputtered in protest for a moment before Lyra waved a hoof at her. "Just go spin us a few tunes, see if you can get this party started again, I'll get this sorted out." Vinyl shot a glare at Thunderlane before disappearing towards the portion of the small house that appeared to be a kitchen.

“You brought beer, huh?” said the mint-green unicorn as she spunt the case around in her sunglow aura. She looked up, shooting him an appreciative and sloppy grin. He could tell from the look in her eyes and the wobble of the case that these wouldn’t be her first beers of the night. Or likely even sixth. "So how did you know that PBR was my favorite?"

Shit, Thunderlane had to keep his cover going.

“I pay attention to these things.” He didn't. “I wanted to make sure I brought you something you might enjoy to help break the ice.” Lyra looked at him in shock before blushing slightly.

“Well this wasn't exactly what I was expecting for the night." Thunderlane nodded as she pulled out a can, popped the top, and chugged a third of it. "Also a little bit forward." 

“We can talk about it outside. We may want a little bit of privacy for this conversation.” Lyra looked around the room sheepishly, her ears ducking back.

“I, uh... sure I guess.” Lyra pushed past Thunderlane and out into the cool night air and stopped just outside the door. “Is this private enough?”

Thunderlane held back a groan as he stepped out beside her. Six feet away from a crowded room of ponies was not exactly the privacy he had been hoping for. “I guess this will do for now.” He leaned close and dropped his voice, trying to get at least some privacy. “You're really the only pony that I know of that could help me with this.”

Lyra giggled softly. “Well you sure know how to flatter a girl, don't you?” Thunderlane smirked slightly. Not hostile was an improvement over his normal interactions with Lyra. “I would’ve never thought you wanted to come out here and talk to me though. This is a bit unexpected.” She had what Thunderlane assumed was a drunken attempt at a seductive smile. She took another sip of her beer.

“I'd like to be a little more serious about this.” Thunderlane let his false pleasantness drop, glad to be rid of it. “What do you know about the name Korrok?”

Lyra's smile left just as quick. “Well, shit.” She tossed the rest of her beer in Thunderlane’s face. “And here I thought you were actually behaving like a real pony and not a guard for a fucking second there.”

Thunderlane grimaced, wiping alcohol off his face for the second time today.

“I’m not sure what you were expecting Lyra, but I have to say that your behavior tonight has been exactly what I expected. Not hoped for, just… expected.”

Vinyl's voice came from just behind Thunderlane, causing him to turn. “So are you gonna need a condom or help kicking his ass, Lyra?” She tossed a fresh can of Pony Blue Ribbon to her fellow unicorn, Lyra’s magic effortlessly snatching it out of the air. “He's off duty so it's not a crime to kick his ass on your property.”

It was, but Thunderlane was too astonished at the first suggestion to object to the second.

“I was feeling the condom, but apparently Thunderlane wants to talk serious business, like the 'K-name' serious,” Lyra explained as she sourly popped the top and took a swig of her new drink.

Vinyl moved beside Lyra. “Now what are you doing bringing that name up here?” the white unicorn growled. The two mares across from him suddenly appeared to be very sober in spite of their beers. Thunderlane could see himself sweating in the reflection of the DJ's sunglasses.

When in doubt, tell the truth, his mother had always told him. “The schoolhouse didn't explode in a freak accident. There was some sort of creature involved and it spoke that name.” Thunderlane looked back and forth between the two mares. “Same one from the Page Turner incident.” The two mares looked at each other for a moment before Lyra looked back at Thunderlane.

“Fuck,” Lyra grumbled, then drained her can, crumpled it in her magic, and chucked it across the yard. “We can't exactly tell you who this thing is, but we can show you something.” Lyra gestured back into the house. “But not now. If we headed out now with a guard it would be suspicious and nobody would come to my parties ever again.” Thunderlane resisted the urge to scream at that reasoning. “We'll grab you when things start winding down, just.. try not to suck the life out of tonight for everypony, okay?”

The two mares ignored Thunderlanes protests as they stepped back into the party. He’d rather not have this become a show and tell event in case this turned into something of questionable legality but quickly realized he had no choice.

Thunderlane internally cursed and gave thanks at the same time. On the one hoof he might finally have a lead on this Korrok. Yet on the other he could have potentially gotten laid tonight, and he cursed himself a second time for actually being upset at missing a chance to hook up with one of Ponyville’s most notorious residents.

This was going to be a long night.