White Devil
It was a cold evening in the Riverlands, about thirty or so miles past the border into Coalition land proper, and Celestia’s sun was close to the horizon, painting the sky, as well as the water of the nearby lake a bright red. The forest wasn’t peaceful however, as a cruel laughing could be heard. Four half-avian forms sat around a roaring fire, discussing their latest victory.
“Can you believe the luck we’re having?”
One of them, a large black furred and feathered Griffon said as he took a bite of a rabbi that he caught off his spit and chewed thoughtfully as he continued.
“We’ve been out here for, what, a week now? And we’ve only had farmers and lumberjacks to fight. These ponies are so isolated from each other that we’ve been clearing out one dingey set of cabins to another out and the Coalition hasn’t caught on yet. This invasion is going to be a breeze when the rest of the army pulls in…”
“What? Are you asking for actual soldiers to be coming after us then Gritch?”
Another Griffon, a female with white feathers and grey fur said from across the fire as she looked over her rifle, carefully cleaning it. The first Griffon, now called Gritch, shook his head.
“Nah, just thought it was lucky is all. We all know we don’t have the firepower or numbers to take on the army.”
“You got that right!”
A third Griffon, this one short and stocky blurted out as he messed with the fire with a stick.
“When I took this job, I didn’t sign to fight an actual war, just kill some ponies and take their stuff. That’s it.”
The female snorted derisively as she muttered.
“Damn mercenaries…”
A fourth one, who had stayed silent all this time, simply smiled a bit at that. He was young, no older than eighteen. He was just a recruit, wanting nothing more than a bit of excitement. Sure, killing farmers wasn’t his idea of exciting, but the extra pay from the loot he stole didn’t hurt. Though, while his comrades were busy talking to each other and having a good time, his eyes were glued to the forest surrounding them, ever on alert for anything out of the ordinary. He jolted when one of them, Gritch, called his name.
“Hey, Dava, would you relax? We’re completely alone out here! Nothing’s gonna charge out of those trees, I promise.”
Dava, nodded slightly and returned to his meal as he glanced outwards again occasionally. The female Griffon said.
“Look, if it makes you feel better, I’ll take first watch, okay kid? Everyone here knows I’ve got the best sense of smell here. If anything came within half a mile of us I’d know. Trust me.”
Dava, feeling comforted by that, gave a fuller nod. It was true, she could smell a rabbit from farther away then any of them. They all looked as the sky darkened considerably when night descended. Gritch would say.
“Alright guys, catch some shut eye. We move at dawn, same as before. Lila has first watch, as she so graciously offered.”
The team nodded and went to their positions, three of them in the tent as Lila sat by the fire and kept it lit as she closed her eyes and took in the smells. She didn’t smell anything out of the ordinary, go figure. A few hours later, when the group was fast asleep, Dava awoke with a start, looking around quietly as he noticed Lila sitting at the fire, facing him. She looked up and asked, a knowing look on her face.
“Trouble sleeping kid?”
Dava only nodded in response as he got out of the tent and sat across from her.
“Yeah, I’ve been there. You get used to it after a while.”
She didn’t say anything else as they sat in silence for a while. As Dava was about to get up, a loud, deafening crack split the quiet. The next thing Dava knew, Lila was face down in the fire with most of her head blown off, her brain matter coating the snow around her as the spot where her head was supposed to be was nothing more then a fine red mist that slowly covered his face.
He didn’t move, he didn’t even breath. He just sat there, silent. He thought he could hear his comrades yelling to him, but he didn’t even think about anything, accept that Lila was dead. In a flash, no blaze of glory, no ceremony, just dead.
Suddenly he found himself on the ground, pulled down by what he thinks was Gritch, who was yelling at that mercenary who was trying to make a break for it. The only thing he could hear clearly was that single, echoing crack, and suddenly the squat griffon’s head just...popped. It popped and he fell to the ground in a crumpled heap mid stride.
Gritch looked in all directions, trying to find the sniper, but it was so dark he couldn’t see anything. The kid was obviously useless, so he had to rely on himself to see them through. He dragged him behind one of the logs they’d sat on and hunkered down behind it. He stayed completely motionless, even holding his breath as he glanced around into the darkness around them.
It was only five minutes, but to him it was an eternity. Simply watching the forest for any sign of movement. This bastard had to move sometime, and he was going to nail them when they did. After the longest hour he’d ever experienced passed, he noticed something, several yards ahead of him, it a glint, a reflection of light caused from his campfire! He had him now…
He threw his body over his cover to pump the pony with lead, but before he got further then eye level above the log, a third crack sounded. In an instant Gritch was beyond pain and strife, suddenly he was at peace as he slumped to the ground, a large hole drilled into his head right between his eyes.
Dava slowly began to wake up from his fear induced stupor, just in time to see his companions all dead, and he heard hoof steps coming towards him from the forest. Still too dazed to do much, he could only watch as a pony about his size silently trotted out of the darkness, like some demon from an old ghost story. In that moment, he knew true terror. The kind that struck you still and unable to move.
The pony stopped just a few feet in front of him, his whole body obscured by heavy, pure white cloth, and his face by snow goggles. He quietly stared down at him, impassive to the Griffon’s fear. He slowly brought his rifle from his back, and slowly raised the stock of it toward him, ready to end his suffering. And as Dava closed his eyes and accepted his death, he felt no more as the stock smacked him clear in the head, caving his skull in.
As the pony looked at the carnage he caused, he slowly took his rifle and cleaned the blood from it. When that was done, he went to the lifeless body of the mercenary Griffon and searched the corpse, finding what he was looking for after a few minutes. A golden locket, with the word ‘Snow’ engraved on it. He opened it up and looked at the picture inside.
Two Earth Ponies, a mare and a stallion were in the picture, no older then twenty. The mare had a creamy yellow coat and bright blue mane and tail, and the stallion was whiter then the snow that surrounded them. The message that lay in it read:
‘To my dear White Snow, my husband, my heart will always belong with you. May we never part, Juniper Berry’
It was a simple message, one only he, and he alone would know. He pocketed the locket and took one last look at the Griffons, then trudged through the snow back into the darkness.
In the following months, the stallion would make a name for himself hunting down and killing Griffons that dared attack the River Coalition. After he killed the last of the initial parties, he let one go, and that Griffon quickly began spreading stories to any who would listen, he told of the pony who killed every raiding party that crossed the border, the pony that would be known as, The White Devil.