The Puppets

by Radical Larry 106

First published

Vinyl's hit rock bottom again. Mistakes follow her wherever she goes, her latest one potentially costing her relationship with Octavia. To make things worse, Vinyl is forced to join Equestria's biggest crime syndicate to 'pay a debt&#0

I've made plenty of mistakes in life, some small, most big.

But my latest screw up possibly cost me a relationship with the pony I love the most other than my fans. She says we're taking a break, but in reality, I know it's over. Lying is a big no-no for her, and I've done it too many times for her to trust me anymore. I've officially hit rock bottom, and the only thing keeping me from going any further is my fans. Regardless, I'm still at the lowest point of my entire life. Hell, I've even contemplated suicide. Nothing's going to help me get through this.

And to make matters worse, I've got one of the biggest crime syndicates the world has ever known to 'recruit' me into their ranks. Screw up one order and there is a slight possibility of death. Can you imagine what that's like for me? I think the biggest mistake I've made so far in life is not killing myself sooner.

(Teen for violence and language)

Act 1: Initiate

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"Octavia please," I pleaded, tears in my eyes. She just sat there, shaking her head in disappointment. "I...I can fix this. I promise."

"Then why haven't you?" She responded.

I struggled to formulate an answer. My voice faltered when I managed to get one though. "I just need you to-"

"I don't need to do anything Vinyl," She said, raising her voice. "I've listened to you, I've tried to hear your reasons, but no matter what, you aren't the one who's understanding."

She was right. There's nothing I could do to make this better.

"I've put up with so much ever since we got together. All your little antics, but this stunt. I can't put up with all this lying though. I think-"

Please don't say it.

"-We need a break. From each other."

She said it. My mouth, despite all my efforts, hung wide open. Tears were streaming from my face, as well as hers. This was it. We were finished. And no amount of apologizing could make this up. Especially if she's already packed my things by the door. Turntable and all. I walked to her, but she said nothing more. Only walked towards her bedroom. Leaving me in here by myself.

I was alone again. Or would be. For the fourth time in my life.

"I love you Tavi," I whispered before heading to the door. I hoped she'd say something back, but I knew that my voice was too low for her to hear me. There's nothing I can do to fix this. I might as well just leave.

As I carried my things out the door, I noticed a crumpled piece of paper sloppily taped onto the door; an orange '43' scribbled hastily onto it. I tore it from the door and tossed it aside onto the Canterlot streets.

Chapter 1

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Chapter 1

As the show came to an end, so did the roars of the ponies standing below the stage. Though, only for a brief second they were quiet, I savored the moment before a loud eruption of cheers and hoof stomps blared, louder than any of my music, directly into my ears. The glow of the fancy display that I called a turntable, lit up my face, allowing most of the ponies to see the growing grin on my face. The best part of the night had already passed, but I was still enjoying every second of this night. Almost every second.

The circular turntable around me powered off almost on cue as the lights faded from me, the club now dimly lit by the glowsticks the ponies carried around.

“Great show!” One stallion yelled above the noise.

“Awesome!” Another yelled.

“Freakin’ fantastic!”

“We love you Vinyl!” The crowd roared in perfect unison.

A grin grew widely on my face as I trotted across the stage, disappearing behind the curtains, watching the crowd as I did so. Ponies were still taking pictures, the flashes from their cameras lighting up the stage like someone was casting a spell on it. I continued passed all the maintenance ponies and whoever else managed to sneak past security to get in backstage. I didn’t mind though. At least security was keeping them at bay now that I was coming through. My signature violet glasses bobbed along with my mane before falling down in front of my eyes. A cheer erupted from the small crowd, ponies whistling and stomping their hooves. It may not have been as loud as the main crowd in the club, but these were still my fans.

I gestured for one of the guards to follow me out the double doors ahead, waving at the fans as the guard escorted me to the wagon sitting patiently on the street. One of the other guards hauled my turntable set over to the rear end of the wagon, keeping it all close together. I still continued to look back at all the ponies cheering me on.

A slight feeling of dissatisfaction rose in my body, trying to keep myself from moving too fast, or too slow. It wasn’t like my trip to Fillydelphia, where the ponies almost killed the security guards to get to me, but it was still something, watching them watch me walk away like I was some kind of big-time celebrity.

Which, I almost was. A few more shows here and there and I could probably be among some of the bigger artists out there, like Nightmare Cinema or Monarch. Well, maybe not exactly like them and their band heavy music.

I was still getting up there though.

Boarding the wagon, I climbed beside my turntables and other equipment I used during the show, and let out a shaky breath of relief. My escort followed me inside, but I quickly gestured him away, making him slam his hoof on the side of the wagon instead, signalling for the pony pulling all the weight to proceed away from the club.

“Where to, Ms. Scratch?” The driver asked, looking both ways before crossing over to another lane. He flexed his wings twice before continuing.

“Harlequin Hotel,” I answered.

“Got it,” His slow walk became a canter, keeping up with the traffic of Manehattan streets. His navigation through the streets was something to behold. Seriously, this guy cut through the traffic like his life depended on it, cutting off cabs and other ponies. I swear he was going to kill somebody with how close he was coming to the pedestrians.

“Couldn’t we just fly?” I asked. “You have wings don’t you?”

“Sorry, but I can’t.” He replied. “Just got on parole for doin’ that last week.”

“But others are doing it. Just look up!” I pointed a hoof at two pegasi maneuvering passed buildings and heading towards the Harlequin’s direction, pulling a carriage as they did so.

“They got permits for that most likely.” The stallion stopped due to the heavy traffic. “I don’t have one, or else we’d be there right now.”

I barely had time to take in all the sights of Manehattan, and when we did run into a jam and I was able to actually look around from the back of the wagon, there was nothing interesting around. At least I’d have a good view of the city from my hotel room.

Still, I’d have actually liked to have seen what Manehattan had to offer up close. Instead, I got blurry views of the Equestrian State Building and Central Park. Glowing neon signs advertising clubs, bars and other shops that were open late at night. Since, taking in the city wasn’t much of an option with our speed, then maybe checking out the night sky was another. The moon shone brightly, almost brighter than the city itself.

Celestia, it must suck to be stuck there for a thousand years. I thought to myself. I instantly took back that thought, for fear that Luna might know that I just thought that. I wasn’t sure if she’d consider it an insult, but with some ponies you never knew. But if she did hear that somehow, then maybe I’d have my fair share of a thousand years on the moon.

I shivered at the thought.

“Hang on!” The stallion yelled, making a tight turn fast enough to almost launch me out of the wagon.

“Oh Celestia,” I groaned as we came to an abrupt stop. Ponies on the sidewalk gave us strange glances, but my head was spinning so fast, I couldn’t tell whether they were looking at me like I was some kind of drunk, or looking at the stallion like he was a reckless ass. Which I could agree that he was.

Once the spinning had stopped and the ponies had all but moved on, the dark blue stallion leaned against the wagon and said with a nonchalant grin; “Sixty two bits please.”

I fished a hoof inside my saddle bags sitting beside me, hoping that all my money didn’t fly out from that turn. When I did find my bits, I hastily gave them to the stallion, and he helped unload all of my equipment. I hauled all of it on my back and approached the door before a mare came through the door, wearing a red jacket with yellow linings, pulling a luggage cart behind her. Her pink bangs nearly covered her eyes and her ponytail ran down her neck and stopped at her shoulder. There are ponies I know that would kill to have a mane like that.

“Ms. Scratch!” She exclaimed, her horn glowing as her magic enveloped all my belongings. “Please, allow me to help you!”

“I-it’s alright,” I struggled. “I think I—Never mind, take it, take it!”

The full weight of the turntables, bags and synthesizer came off my back, and I felt like the weight of the whole world had just come off my shoulders. Unicorns weren’t meant for hauling so much weight. The mare took it all with ease though, placing it all gently on the luggage cart. She gestured for me to enter the hotel, holding the glass door with the cart before following me inside. My hooves clopped along the marble floors, decorated to look like one half of the sun and the other half of the floor, the moon. A chandelier hung overhead, the glass looking sharp enough to kill whoever it landed on if the force and weight of the whole thing didn’t. The lobby was bathed in a golden glow because of it though, and as long as it made the hotel look good, I couldn’t really say much bad about it.

I entered the luxurious elevator, waiting for the mare to get in with me, but instead she just stood there.

“There’s room in here for you too,” I said, scooting over to the side. Instead of coming inside with me, she pushed the luggage cart inside. “Oh...well...uh, have a good night.”

“Oh, I will,” She looked back at the stallion who took me here. She winked at him, and he just blushed.

“Right,” I replied, slightly stunned.






Dear Octavia,

I don’t know if you actually take the time to read these letters, or if you just throw them away when you see that I sent them, though from the lack of a response, I assume you just toss them. Still, it feels good getting all this off my chest, even if you don’t want to hear any of it. Or read any of it in this case.

I just hope you can forgive me for screwing up. I’m tired of scrounging money from late night shows just to find myself in another hotel. I know that I can save my money to probably settle into another apartment if things between us don’t work out, but I just need an answer from you. I know it sounds tacky, but I don’t want you to leave. I don’t want to be alone again. I don’t think I’ll waste your time with a sob story or anything like that, but Just give me something. I need some kind of response. I need to know if we can still work out.

Please, just say something to me.

Vinyl





I lit the candle with dragonfire matches and burned the note above it, waiting for the ashes to blow out of the open window. The cool breeze of the summer night on my coat and face took me away from the situation for a brief second. But when I opened my eyes, I was back in it. The bottle of Gryphon Vodka stood undisturbed on the nightstand beside the glorious bed. I sat in the seat by the window and stared down into the city. The glowing lights and lanterns hanging off of wagons and carriages made the city more beautiful than it already was. It was like watching glowing ants race across an colony; almost completely coordinated, save for the various ass who thinks he can push the others around since he’s bigger than the others. I loved highrise hotels like this one.

Being on the hundredth floor would’ve been nice if I could share it with someone. But unfortunately, I was stuck in this place by myself. Alone with just my thoughts. All because of a simple mistake I made with the only one who knew me at the personal level.

And now she was gone.

I finally grabbed the Gryphon Vodka from the nightstand, threw the cap out the window, and downed as much of the alcohol as I possibly could before pulling the bottle away from my lips.

Celestia that tastes like crap.

I waited beside the window for what seemed like an eternity hoping to get a letter from Octavia. But there was nothing. Maybe she ran out of dragonfire matches? Or maybe she was performing something of her own? Maybe she had someone else over and completely forgot about me?

No, that’s not like her.

BING!

I jolted up off the seat. If it weren’t for the glass, I’d have fallen right out of the window. My breathing escalated to an irregular pace. I looked around for anything I could use as a weapon. Anything that could help fend off an intruder.

“You’re a unicorn Vinyl,” I muttered. “You have magic you idiot.”

My horn began to glow, charging for an arcane blast. I kept close to the wall until I got to the door. A swift swipe of a hoof on the handle and it flung open, me darting from the room to confront whatever had caused the glass to drop.

Nothing.

I continued forward, stepping into the living room and making quick glances around the room. The kitchen, visible from where I was standing looked clear too, save for the broken wine glass on the floor. Goddess, I hope I don’t have to pay for that.

I approached it with apprehension, ready to blow away whatever came.

But nothing happened. I levitated the glass and headed for the trash, still being on alert.

BONK!

Holy shit!

I fell forward, face first into the trash bin, an explosion of pain in the back of my head. Breathing became a monumentally hard task to accomplish. Once I got my head out of the garbage, I tumbled backwards, trying my best not to land on my head.

With some success, I landed on my belly, my jaw slamming against the ground. I groaned as I rolled to my side, trying to get up on my hooves. I couldn’t even get my horn to flare up again to at least try and incapacitate my attacker.

“Damn,” A vaguely familiar voice spoke in a mix of worry and frustration. “That was supposed to knock her out!”

“Hit her again! Maybe it’ll work a second time!” Another voice called out, a mare this time.

BONK!

I tasted copper, the crimson liquid beginning to flood my mouth. Another blow came, and more blood rushed out. I tried to kick away my attacker, but nothing happened. I felt nobody. Just me thrashing wildly in a childish and pitiful attempt of fighting for my life. I tried to block blows from the metal object hitting me, but my attempts made the pain worse.

“It’s not working!” The stallion cried.

“Here!”

Hoof steps came closer and before I knew it, a hoof almost knocked my teeth out.

I was practically crying and begging for my life at this point. The pain in my body was too much to bear, and I think I was losing more blood with each blow they gave me. Tears streamed from my eyes which were clenched shut, and when I began to cough up blood and feel bones starting to give up, I knew almost certainly I was going to die. My body felt numb, save for the blows to the head and my hooves.

This was it.

I was going to die.

I just wished that I could make things right with Octavia before I did.

Chapter 2

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Chapter 2


“What the hell is this!?” A distant low and hoarse voice yelled. My eyes barely cracked open, but I could make out a few blurry figures. “I said bring her back to me, not beat her half to death!”

“Right....” Another voice, again, familiar, spoke in a low tone. “Well, you see, Siren and I Were trying to knock her out and-”

“She’s waking up!” Another voice called, her voice blaring in my ears making me grunt in a mix of annoyance and anger. My eyes opened, though ones vision was more blurry into the other. I jolted when the recent memories began flushing back into my mind, finding that my hooves had been chained together. Rusty chains binding me to the steel chair, illuminated by a single light hanging above me like a stereotypical cop film.

We were in an office of some sort. A table flanked my left, a peeling leather chair behind it and filing cabinets behind that. The wood walls were draining of color and paint was beginning to peel off of the other walls. A water cooler was set to my right, though the murky water inside was a bit unsettling.

I tried to wiggle my body, but pain erupted, forcing a yelp of pain to echo through the room. Pain erupted from all sides of my body, ending just below my neck. My breaths became heavy as my eyes began to equalize their vision. With the blurriness going away, everything became more clear to me. Mostly visually.

Where was I? In a house of some sort, but I still couldn't make it out entirely. The group surrounding me wouldn't allow me to look past anything beyond the double doors. The black carpet beneath my hooves felt rugged and rough, like it hadn't seen proper cleanup in years. Boarded up windows in the room allowed for only a few rays of light to peek into the room, but served no other purpose. One of the mares looked through a slit in the boards and nodded her head at who I assumed to be the head stallion in charge.

A white unicorn, a stern expression on his face. If I had to guess by the rough beard and the death glare he naturally had, he had to be in his late thirties or early forties. He was speaking to....my wagon driver? The white stallion gave him a stern look, as if saying ‘we’ll talk later’. I glanced over at the dark blue pegasus who backed away in fear, like his life was going to end.

“Is she alright?” He asked. It sounded like he was trying to voice concern, but the roughness in his voice prevented any real identifiable emotion to be heard.

An arcane in my eyes damn near blinded me, the beam scanning me up and down. All the ponies gawked at me with childlike curiosity. It was like I was some kind of ant, fascinated by a group of foals. The analogy scared me, given that anyone of the ‘children’ could easily kill the ‘ant’ whenever they felt like it.

“There’s a few bruises left from what I couldn't take care of,” A softer and sweeter voice answered. “But other than a few sore muscles from Azazel’s and Siren’s beating last night, Vinyl’s still up and running.”

They healed me?

“Good,” The unicorn said, averting his attention to me.

“Man, I don’t think taking her was a good idea,” Remarked the blue pegasus I assumed to be Azazel. “She has no business being here.”

“That’s not for you to decide,” The white stallion spoke again. “It was an order from the top, and with the behavior of this group, I’m surprised they trusted us enough to get it done. Hell, we almost didn't after what you did to her.”

“P-please,” I groaned, my voice coming out shaky. “I don’t have m-much money to offer you, but I’ll give you however much you want! Please, just l-l-let me go!”

Silence filled the room, only the sound of my light sobs filling the room. I regretted those words, knowing that they were all in vain. Why would they let me go? They’d hold me in here for ransom and before they got their money, they’d just gut me and leave me to die while they made off with thousands or millions of bits. The ambulance would get here and try to save me, but there’d be nothing they could do.

But he said something about ‘this group’. That meant there was more of them. And if there was, then that meant I may not have been the only victim here. Hell, I wasn't the only victim here. If there were more ponies like this, then there was definitely other innocent ponies involved. There just had to be more ponies who were taken from the confines of their homes or wherever and brought to a place like this to be tortured for hours on end before being killed. Maybe not everyone taken would be lucky and be given a quick death.

“I know how you feel right now Vinyl,” The white unicorn said, running a hoof through his light blue, almost white, mane. “We all have been where you’re sitting right now. But before we let you go, we need you to trust us.”

“Nev-” I stopped myself in mid sentence. Was he really asking me to place my trust in him? Did he think I was that stupid? But there’s no other way out of this. I can’t just put my trust in the ponies who captured me. No.

But what if he wasn't lying? What if they really weren't going to hurt me? What if this was just some kind of joke? Maybe Octavia was behind this, and she was just trying to get these ponies to get me to do something for her amusement?

Unlikely.

“Vinyl,” The gentle voice of the mare beside me was comforting, but not enough for me to calm down. “We’re trying to help.”

“I don’t need your help,” I said coldly.

“Really?” Another stallion, the burliest and strongest unicorn I’d ever seen, spoke. His voice was low, but much less coarse than the group’s leader. “You seemed to need it when we dragged you in here.”

I grunted in frustration. “Fine! So what? Whatever you need from me, I won’t give it!”

“You were close to giving us something before.” Azazel muttered from the back of the room.

“Shit.” I said quietly. “So what? I don’t see any reason why I should trust any of you.”

“We’re the only thing keeping you away from Death.”

“Right, I got that part already.” I sighed.

“No,” The leader gestured to the door behind him. “If you don’t want to get out of the seat, then I can always take you right to him. He’s right outside the door.”

I opened my mouth, but caught myself before I continued to spew out anything that could get me killed.

Death? Was a pony? Maybe not the skeleton in robes like I was thinking, but still, the fact that there was a pony with such a name was more than disturbing. If he was here then that meant I'd be on my way to meeting him if I didn't comply. Which I was still unsure if I should. If these guys were really between me and Death, then I guess I only have one thing to do.

They’d just take you to Death regardless, the doubt in my mind spoke.

Then there’d be no reason for having me tied down and it’d be a waste of time to introduce themselves, logic responded.

“Fuck,” I grunted, straining to break my hooves free in one final attempt. Magic would've done some good, though only if I wanted to die. The musclebound unicorn would easily tear me apart if he wanted; magic or just pure strength. “Fine. Fine, I’ll play for now.”

“Good.” The leader said, gesturing his hoof at Azazel, who walked out, leaving the rest of us alone. He closed the door behind him as he exited. “Blackout, get her out of that thing. Knight, guard the door. Make sure she doesn't try anything while I talk to him.”

“Here we are,” The mare beside me, Blackout, said, fiddling with the chains binding me. The chains dropped noisily, echoing in the small office room. Knight, the unicorn I was so frightened of, approached the door, looking down at the ground sorrowfully as he did so. He scratched his auburn mane, and eyeballed the room as if making sure there was no way out for me. Well, with boarded up windows and a door blocked by the biggest pony of the group, there was no real option for me.

Maybe I can try for the Royal Guard. First chance I get.

I wasn't sure if I’d get a second chance though. I was undoubtedly going to be stuck here until I died. Until then, I had to probe for weaknesses. Know the ponies. Turn them against each other, something. I needed a one-way ticket out of here.

Blackout helped me stand on all fours, my body aching from the pain. Her sleek grey coat was comfortable to lay on, reminding me of Octavia’s gentle touch. Her red mane and eyes was the only thing that set the two apart. Blackout let go of me and allowed me to walk around, setting up ‘goals’, as she called it. Walk from one end of the room to the other, or try to catch up with Siren’s pace. Excruciatingly painful at first, but my body eased up over time.

After my exercises, I sat down beside Blackout by the desk, who was doing another one of her examinations. Her horn lit up and a beam scanned me up and down.

“Just sit still for a few minutes okay?” Her voice was smooth, but missing Octavia’s distinct accent. I felt comfortable around her. But not comfortable enough to completely trust her or her friends.

“Think we can take her to The Hole later?” Siren asked Knight.

Knight tilted his head slightly. “It ain't my call. Gotta check in with Checkmate on that one.”

My ears twitched at their little conversation. Checkmate. Old stallion and head of this band of criminals. Sounds fitting I guess.

“I know you don’t trust us,” Blackout said. “But it’s just a phase. You’ll get used to it.”

“That’s what everyone says,” I replied. “It’s never that easy. If you expect me to trust all of you, you’re very mistaken.”

“I doubt it,” Blackout said, with a slight chuckle. “Trust is earned, not given. You’ll find that out soon. Well, you may find that out soon.”

“You sound unsure.”

“Because I am. Not everybody here is the same. Some can only last so long, but you have a strong willpower, so you won’t break as easily as others. I think you’ll be staying with us for a while before you decide to leave. Or try to anyway.”

My ears twitched. “Leave?”

“Again, try to.”

As curious as I was, I doubted that this was the appropriate time for questions. I figured if I didn't trust them too much, then they didn't trust me. Even if I was Vinyl Scratch, somewhat popular DJ. They’d need some time for adjustments. And I would too. Blackout was right; trust was earned, not given.

Azazel walked through the door, looking as though he'd seen a ghost. Checkmate followed, the most intense look in both of their eyes. They both looked at each other, then back at the door. Then they came back to reality, the intensity draining from their faces as they Checkmate gestured for Knight and Siren to follow over to Blackout and I.

Celestia, this doesn't look good. I thought. My body shook and breaths came out in short, abnormal bursts. Blackout didn't look too calm either. None of them did. This may be the moment. Fight my way out of here or die trying. I readied my magic, my horn only glowing like a dim night light. unnoticed by the rest of the group.

Outside, the thud of a chariot door closing and hooves clopping on the ground grew distant, Eventually the fluttering of wings sounded before the noises stopped all together. No bugs or birds chirping. No wind blowing through the air. Just pure silence. There was no sounds of ponies talking or other hoofsteps. And if there was no chariots being pulled or any night creatures, then we were either far from the city’s borders or just in the really bad side of town. In all honesty, I wanted to be outside of Manehattan’s borders rather than the ghetto.

“He’s gone,” Checkmate said sullenly. “Which is good for all of us.”

“So what about me?” I asked shakily. My horn’s glow dimmed even more, as Checkmate and the others sat on their haunches. They still hadn't noticed it. And if they did, they were doing a damn good job of ignoring it.

“Well, that means, you’ll be staying with us. At least for a little while. His orders.”

So, you’re not really calling the shots here. I thought. Checkmate was just a henchman, leading a group of other henchmen.

“What do you mean by, ‘staying for a little while’?”

“It means exactly what it means I guess,” Azazel answered. “He wants us to try and build trust first before we let you go.”

“You’re gonna let me go?” I asked with a little too much enthusiasm.

“Yes and no,” Checkmate cut in. “You’ll be leaving us, but we’ll have to keep a close eye on you. Just to make sure you don’t try to rat us out. You’ll still be part of the group and when we get an assignment, you’re going to have to come back here and gear up to do it with us.”

Just when I thought I was free, there was something else keeping me from true freedom. I mean, of course there was. Why wouldn’t there be. Still, if I could earn their trust enough to let me go to the guard, then this whole operation would be going under. Maybe they could go into Witness Protection or something. We could all get out of this situation alive with none of us going to jail.

But could it really be that simple? Death, some leader of an underground criminal group. There had to be more to it than that. For him to make a ballsy move like capturing me and making me join his little group, he had to have some kind of power. Whether or not it was political or something else was something to be answered, but it had to be answered quickly. And even then, I had to exploit this group, without getting myself caught in the chaos that may ensue from my acts of exposing the organization.

And even then, those who were truly loyal to their cause and survived the purging of it, would they come after me and try to kill me? What of Octavia? Will they know about us? If we are still together at that point.

Checkmate extended his hoof, and said, “We need an agreement for now. I don’t care if you’re having trust issues now. I just risked my ass, trying to convince him to keep you alive. That should be enough to ease things between us just a bit.”

I swallowed down the forming lump in my throat. If what he said was true, then I guess I technically owed him. I just don’t think putting my life on the line the way he probably wanted me to was a very good form of getting even. Even if he supposedly risked his ass. There was still the possibility that he wasn't lying. And right now, I wasn't in the position to be doubtful. Not with everyone in the room waiting for my answer with intense apprehension.

“Damn it,” I muttered, shaking hooves with the devil. “Okay, I’m in. For now.”

“Good,” Checkmate said, standing up. “Blackout? Wanna give her the grand tour. I’ll get everything ready for tomorrow's assignment.”

Great, my first assignment is tomorrow. Look at what you got yourself into.

“Of course,” She responded, helping me on all fours again. She guided me out of the office room, and introduced me to the rest of the building. A chariot repair shop. Or at least what was left of one. Everything had been completely reworked in here.

The garage doors had an extra thick layer of sheet metal bolted onto it, the windows boarded up as well. The concrete walls had all the paint plastered on it peeling away, though it looked like the others had tried to paint over the peeling colors. Wood shelves full of repair tools dotted the whole garage, save for an area in the corner closest to the office. A red door with the words ‘The Hole’ had been painted on a steel slab above the door. I guess that’s what Siren had been talking about. Whatever it was, I wasn't sure if I wanted anything to do with it.

Blackout guided me to a wooden shelf next to the garage door. Medical boxes and kits weren't scattered about unlike the rest of the equipment in here. Syringe packs and bottles full of painkillers sat along the top shelf, while the first aid equipment were on the lower shelves. Beside the shelves were two hospital beds, unusually clean and organized. Blankets and pillows that looked like the most comfortable things I’d ever seen were laid down carefully to mimic a real hospital. Somewhat.

“This, of course, is our medical area,” Blackout explained. “If you need any patching up, I’ll be over here most days.”

She gestured for me to follow her to the shelves and cabinets beside her medical territory. Blades, axes, crossbows, you name it. They even had things I’d never seen before. By the Royal Sisters, there was everything a serial killer could hope for! Cleavers, knives, even forks! Just imagining that any one of these ponies could have killed someone with a fork was enough to send chills down my spine.

“Our weapons station,” Blackout again explained. “Of course, not all of our lethals are just lying out here like this. The cabinet has an arcane lock only Knight can open, just so you don’t try anything.”

“What do you have in there?” I asked curiously.

“I couldn't tell you really. Knight gets shipments from the other groups, namely Group Fifty Two. Last shipment, if I recall, was a crate full of flintlocks.”

“There it is again,”

“Pardon?”

“You guys keep saying, ‘the others’ or ‘groups’. What the hell are we in?”

Blackout paused briefly. She looked pensive, as if trying to come up with the right answer to my question. She swallowed before saying, “We’re technically aren't in anything. We don’t really exist. We’re expendable. We’re The Puppets. Plain and simple. We’re just slaves. Expendable.”

Shit, Vinyl.

“There are other groups around, all holed up in different safe houses around Equestria. We’re Group Forty Three. It’s not that bad, really. I mean, it has its ups and downs. I know you didn't get the best welcome, but trust me, it beats being an enemy of The Puppets.”

“I’m sure it does.”

“Vinyl! Black!” Azazel hovered above the crimson door, labelled The Hole. “We’re headin’ in. Wanna come? It'll get us better acquainted.”

I looked at Blackout, as if waiting for her approval. She nodded her head and said, “We’ll be there in a second.” before looking back at me. She smiled and whispered, “Personally, I didn't think he knew what that word meant.”

We shared a short chuckle before entering the dark doorway that led to The Hole. I made sure to be on my guard just in case anybody tried anything. These ponies may be able to be trusted, but I wasn't going to just easily give my trust away to the ponies who kidnapped me.