Butterflies or beer?

Ah shit, where do I even begin?

Let's see here, I could start with that sick bastard SKX, but I'm pretty sure half of you already know that particular story. There's also me leaving the force, but come on, who gives a crap about that right? Hmm. Heh, you can probably tell I'm not the best at script reading.

Uh.......OH! I know, how's about we don't start with me. Nah, you already know about me.

Let's start with something fresh.

Let's start with her.

"Hold still you insolent fool!"

A roar thundered through the sky as a beam of pure, green concentrated energy sliced through the air. It's target, a rainbow blur zipping through the sky faster than the eye could blink, easily dodged the attack by picking up more speed.

"HAH! Missed, Queen Chrysalis!"

The flying rainbow blur slowed its trajectory midair, making its appearance morph from a colored streak to a smirking blue rainbow-maned Pegasus.

Flapping her wings to keep her high in the sky, the blue Pegasus threw a mocking hoof towards the tyrant queen's direction.

"Come on, is that seriously all you got? A mouse with an Alicorn horn would have better aim than you!"

Her response was another blast of magic fired straight for her head, which missed once again.

Ceasing her attack, Queen Chrysalis gnashed her teeth together before her eyes caught something in the corner of her eye.

Green energy sparking across her twisted horn, the Queen formed a large green shielded wall as a different teal blue beam of energy blasted into it. Once the attack dispersed, Chrysalis rid herself of the shield and turned towards the direction the attack came from with narrowed eyes. However, it seemed the surrounding area around her was vacant

Scanning the area, she raised an eyebrow at the lack of enemies. All she could see was the lush meadow around her, with the tall trees of the Everfree forest on the horizon.

Suddenly, a unicorn coated in a teal aura floated into her view, causing Chrysalis' eyes to flash in pure hatred. The unicorn, with purple-pink coated fur and a violet/pink stripped mane, glared at the tyrant before her, speaking in a harsh tone.

"What are you doing here Chrysalis?"

The bug/Alicorn queen glared at her enemy as she snarled in a low voice.

"You know very well what my business is here, Starlight Glimmer."

The unicorn in question processed the given information, before her scornful glare morphed into an more empathetic look.

"Revenge won't make you happy, trust me, I know. I'm sorry about what happened to you, but what you were doing was wrong. Please, there is anoth-"

"SPARE ME YOUR SENTIMENTS!" Chrysalis screamed as her horn began to glow with energy, seemingly resembling her increasingly building rage.

"CHRYSALIS!"

The Queen blinked in surprise as a blur of purple slammed onto the dirt in front of her. Closing her eyes as dust particles stung her vision, the Alicorn coughed as she waved a hoof in front of her muzzle, trying to clear the air.

As the dirt cleared, she saw a darker colored violet pony rise up from the ground and stand tall in front of Chrysalis. The Queen narrowed her eyes at the newcomer, a different look of hatred etching across her features. Unlike the other ponies, this purple one in particular was special.

Like Chrysalis, the small pony was an Alicorn, but that was where their similarities ended. While the smaller Alicorn before her was smart, beautiful and powerful, Chrysalis was a mossy black, insect-like Alicorn with holes marring her skin and wings. Her species being a Changling, a creature from Equestria that thrived on the love of other creatures, feeding her hunger.

"Twilight Sparkle." She spat. "To what do I owe the esteemed pleasure."

The violet Alicorn, Twilight Sparkle, spoke in a calm yet firm voice.

"Stop this Chrysalis, you're going to hurt somepony!"

"Yeah, Give up!" Another voice shouted from above. Zipping into view, Rainbow Dash stared down at the Changling. "Unless you want to do it the hard way." to emphasize her point, she brought her two front hooves up and clopped them together, hoping the Changling understood the challenge.

Growling, Chrysalis looked up at Dash with venom in her voice.

"Laugh while you can fool, soon you won't be speaking a word at all!"

Suddenly, a blast from a confetti canon exploded in her right ear, the force of it sending her sailing to the ground, massaging her ringing ear in pain.

"Don't be such a mean, meanie pants Chrysi!"

A shrill voice called out as she heard hoof steps gallop towards her direction. Lifting her head up, she saw a pink pony with cotton candy styled hair, a pearl white unicorn with an elegant purple mane and a cowpony with a Stetson hat, all standing in a defensive position, ready for her. Chrysalis resisted the urge to groan. Oh great, Twilight's little lapdogs had finally arrived. Before she could stop herself, her mind began to wander, creating images about how the growing group would try and defeat her.

Tag team her at a completely unfair level?

Have Twilight trap her in a bubble, rendering her completely helpless?

Or worse, blast her with the Elements of Harmony?

By themselves, the ponies were a formidable force, but still doable to defeat. But when all seven of them were together, they were practically unstoppable. With the Elements of Harmony at their disposal, even her almighty power could do nothing against it.

The power they possessed was astronomical and wildly unpredictable; every villain, they faced, no matter how great and powerful, were almost immediately knocked to their knees the minute they were hit with that cursed rainbow beam. They had an unbreakable bond which made their powers stronger. And they just had to wear it like a flanking badge.

The Magic of Friendship.

Ugh. She nearly gagged at the bile forming in her throat. What an absolutely disgusting power. Friendship? Ha, try Fear! Now that was a powerful weapon; Fear made ponies bow to you, fear meant unlimited power, fear made ponies too afraid to challenge you. Unfortunately it was aparently underrated and overshadowed by friendship.

But oh, she'd make them remember it, one way or another.

Speaking of seven.

She narrowed her eyes as she look at the other ponies, immediately noticing something was missing. Where was that weak yellow Pegasus?

Honk!

Her pupils dilated as she felt a heavy weight place itself on top of her head. Shuddering at the unwelcome contact, she slowly opened her mouth to say something when a small, fuzzy head accompanied with long ears hung in front of her muzzle.

And it seemed to be relentlessly trying to hit her with a half eaten carrot.

She pursed her lips. There was a Rabbit on her head. Why was there a Rabbit on her head?

*Gasp* "Angel!"

In seconds, the foul creature was yanked off her head, making her silently before whipping around in fury, finally coming face-to-face with the yellow coated and pink maned Pegasus, Fluttershy.

The Pegasus herself was too preoccupied in scolding the goose in her hooves to notice Chrysalis.

"Bad Angel! What have we discussed about ..."

She lifted her head to send an apologetic look towards Angel's victim, only to freeze solid when her eyes met the tyrant Queen. In a snap, her face became paper sheet pale, her body shaking like a leaf.

"Following...me...on...missions."

With each word she spit out, the fur on her skin became paler as she gulped in terror. Smiling wickedly, Chrysalis charged up her horn, an evil flash in her eyes.

Fluttershy stood frozen as her eyes trailed upwards towards Chrysalis' horn, watching the magic spark like a firecracker. Once it seemingly reached its limit, Chrysalis heaved her power induced horn high in the sky and thrust it down with all her might, sending a tidlewave of deathly magic barreling into Fluttershy's face.

Before it could reach the Pegasus however, a purple aura suddenly engulfed Fluttershy and teleported her out of harms way. The stream of magic Chrysalis had sent flew off into the distance, exploding into a couple trees and setting them aflame.

With a burst of magic, Fluttershy popped back into existence with Angel still snug in her grasp, just yards away from Twilight, whose horn was light up in the same purple aura. With her friend brought to safety, Twilight turned towards her enemy, her horn charging up with power.

"Last chance Chrysalis, stand down."

Hearing this, instead of speaking in protest, a chuckle rose from the Changling, followed by full blown laughter.

"Mhmhmwaahahahahahahahahahah!"

Staring in confusion, the ponies watched as the villain nearly toppled herself over from laughing. Bringing a hoof up to wipe her eyes, she giggled.

"Silly little ponies, don't you know a Queen never backs down!"

Within a blink of an eye, she shot out a burst of magic towards the three other ponies ahead of her, who gasped in surprise before dodging to the side, the attack missing them by their mane hair.

Flapping her wings, she flew up into the air and lunged after Starlight, who used her own magic to cast a full sphered shield to save herself.

Ramming into the shield, Chrysalis pushed Starlight forcefully to the ground, her sphere making her pounce like a ball on the dirt. As the Changling was distracted, a blast of magic slammed into her side, causing her to scream in pain and spin out of control in the air.

Flapping her wings to steady herself, she spun circles much like a drunken state, before she was eventually able to stop midair.

Wheezing out a breath as her side began to burn, she looked down to see Twilight fire another blast in her direction. Growling, Chrysalis brought down her own magic to compete against the other Alicorn. Both beams of energy slammed into each other, wrestling for the upper hand. Soon, Chrysalis' green magic began to push back Twilight's purple, tipping the odds in the Queen's favor. Sweat formed on Twilight's brow as her magic began to weaken, allowing the opposing green to close in on her.

Before it could reach her however, a bright blue magic wrapped around Chrysalis's back hoof and pulled her down, tripping her as well as ceasing the magic battle. Blinking, Twilight looked to see the white unicorn from earlier, her friend Rarity, had noticed her magical struggle and had thankfully come to the rescue.

Furious with this new exchange, Chrysalis roared as she desperately tried to squirm out off Rarity's grasp. Locking eyes with the fashionista, the hive Queen lit up her horn and shot forth a blast, causing Rarity to shriek and duck for cover. Pulling her leg free Chrysalis hoisted up in the air, only to be punched in the face by a speeding Rainbow Dash. "Ugh!" she growled, before shaking her head to clear the pain. She quickly scanned the sky for the blue Pegasus. Nothing. where-

BAM!

Suddenly, something smashed into her back as both her and RD crashed to the ground. As soon as they both made contact on the grass, the taller Alicorn flipped over, grabbed Rainbow by the neck and pushed her down, pinning her to the floor.

"Hey! Get offa me!"

Smirking, Chrysalis waited patiently for her enemy's eyes to meet hers, and when they did, Rainbow gulped. Once she was satisfied the Pegasus knew what was coming, Chrysalis opened her mouth and began to inhale.

As stated before, these seven ponies just loved each other. "Loved'' being the key word. This would be a deeply satisfying and worthy meal. Struggling even harder, Rainbow Dash grunted and growled as Chrysalis continued to inhale. Before she knew it, Dash suddenly felt her jaw move by itself and open up for the love inside her to experience for the Changling to feed.

"NO!"

Hooves wrapped around Chrysalis's neck, causing her to jerk to the side, ruining her feeding process.

Fluttershy had seen her friend in danger, and without hesitation had jumped onto her foe. Snarling in anger, Chrysalis charged up her magic, which gripped onto the yellow Pegasus and pulled her from her back, bringing her to eye level with the Queen. Yelping at the magic grabbing a hold of her, Fluttershy felt her heart drop once her face met Chrysalis's, her energy helpless as the green magic held her body tight, keeping her stiff and helpless.

The both of them said nothing to each other, with Fluttershy shaking in fear and Chrysalis in anger. Pouring her hatred in the Pegasus' eyes, Chrysalis watched in glee as the younger shrunk lower and lower from her gaze, whimpering pathetically at her sheer power.

Once she was satisfied with the amount of terror bestowed on the younger female, Chrysalis scoffed as she tossed the small Pegasus roughly to the side, who let out an "oof!" when she landed.

The Changling Queen was about to make a move when a teal blast shot her square in the cheek, attracting her attention to a now fully ready Starlight Glimmer.

Grinding her teeth, Chrysalis shot forth towards Starlight, who used her own magic to carry her further back, blasting at the
insect Alicorn along the way. Meanwhile, Fluttershy rose herself from the ground, coughing at the grass and mud in her lungs. With her body half up, she began brushing her fur, while her brain scrambled in different thoughts.

What an absolute mess she was. Not five minutes in and she hadn't been able to hold back Chrysalis in the slightest. She might as well have not done anything to begin with. She wasn't like Rainbow or Twilight or any of the other girls, she was far from a fighter, this just proved it. Tears fell from her cheeks as she hiccupped a quiet sob.

"Hey Flutters, you okay?"

Wiping her eyes, Fluttershy looked up to see a concerned Rainbow Dash above. Smiling weakly at her Fillyhood, the timid Pegasus gave a short nod, which Dash took as a sign to once again focus of Chrysalis.

Back at the battlefield, Starlight had switched her tactics, and was now teleporting here and there, distracting Chrysalis while Twilight ran to the side.

"Hold still you insufferable little wretch!" Chrysalis called out the Starlight, who simply rolled her eyes at the harsh statement.

"Ouch, what a hurtful insult, I'm reeling with upset." She spoke in a dry tone.

As the two were busy, Twilight placed herself in the certain position she needed to be in, silently hoping her plan would work. Looking over to Rainbow Dash, the both of them met each others eye, before nodding simultaneously. She also took note that Rarity had taken her place in the right position, ready to act on her part.

For Equestria's sake she hoped this would work.

Back to Chrysalis and Starlight, the purple pony continued to antagonize the hive Alicorn, who's face was practically blood red with rage now.

Chrysalis couldn't think, couldn't talk, heck, she couldn't even breath. This pony, this tiny, weak minded, insignificant pony, took away her home, her subjects, her life, and yet had the gall to insult her like this?

Oh, she'd make her pay, yes she would. Everypony runs out of energy sooner or later, and Chrysalis had plenty to spar considering she had nothing to lose.

And once she caught her...

All of the sudden, Chrysalis's right wing stopped moving, like something had yanked it back with extreme force, causing her to screech to a halt midair. Peering over her shoulder, she found that her wing was caked in a purple aura. Eyes widening, she tried to pull her wing away from the engulfing aura, but her wing muscles had become stiff and numb. The magic held strong, not moving an inch.

Whipping her head frantically to find the culprit, her brain locked in place once she saw Twilight Sparkle and her glowing horn, her face one of intense concentration.

Her other wing suddenly became stiff as well, no doubt from another magic source. She turned her gaze to her other wing, confirming that magic had taken hold it, albeit a darker purple this time. She looked down to see Rarity standing adjacent to Twilight, her own horn glowing as well.

Chrysalis rocked her shoulders from side to side as she fought back for control, seemingly trying to pull her wings from the magic.

As she struggled, a rope flung up and lassoed around her neck before the knot pushed against her throat. Choaking at the tightening noose, she cast her eyes down to see the orange cowpony, otherwise known as Applejack, gripping her lasso tight in her teeth and pulling as hard as she could. With the lasso firm around her neck, it soon became hard for Chrysalis to move.

Screaming in fury, the Changling wiggled and writhed in the ponies' hold, forcing them to concentrate even harder.

Charging up her horn, Chrysalis looked towards Twilight first, intent on aiming straight for the younger Alicorn's forehead while she was distracted.

Feeling her power fully charge up, Chrysalis readied herself for her attack, and just before she could expel her magic, a warm sensation sunk through her horn, an alien feeling she would honestly say she'd never felt before.

She slowly rolled her eyes up, afraid of what she'd find.

Her heart nearly stopped at what she saw.

Teal magic wrapped around her horn, much like her wings, and was somehow halting her ability to produce her own magic!

A smirking, floating Starlight was enough to send her over the edge.

Screaming in unbridled hatred, Chrysalis struggled like never before, shouting out vulgar curses at the ponies. As she attempted to resist them, a high pitched "Wheeee!" Filled her ears before a heavy weight pulled down on her hind leg. She nearly stopped her cursing due to her immense confusion. What in the world?

No sooner than that, she felt her hind leg begin to swing in the air, followed by a spray of giggles.

It was pretty obvious who had a hold of her back hoof curse that stupid pink pony. What she'd do to that childish fool once she got out out of this. A Rainbow blur zipped by her cheek, followed by a harsh pull on her tail. Apparently, Rainbow Dash had decided to take her part amidst all the action and had grabbed Chrysalis's tail in between her teeth, halting her from moving her torso at all.

With her body completely suspended in air, her wings and horn captured in magic, her neck and head trapped by the lasso, Rainbow Dash holding her tail and backside so she couldn't move, and Pinkie Pie grabbing her leg, all she could do was shout out threats and wiggle in their hold.

How pathetic she must've looked. A powerful Changling such as her, bound like a wild animal in these ponies' grasp. She was a queen Faust damn it! She was better than this!

A bead of sweat rolled down Twilight's cheek, her teeth mashing as she tried to concentrate her magic. With all of Chrysalis's struggling, it was getting harder and harder to hold her still. Soon, she was afraid the queen would break free and finally hurt somepony.

Screwing her eyes shut, it took a minute for her to remember her plan through her straining, before she opened her mouth with a yell.

"Fluttershy!" She shouted. "Use the Stare!"

The Pegasus perked her ears up in when hearing her name. Twilight wanted her to use the Stare?

The Stare was something Fluttershy used as a last resort to put her animal friends back in their place when they were being naughty, such as the geese when they'd bite Rachel the snake or Vaggie the vulture when she refused to cooperate with her broken wing. It made the victim freeze under the disappointed look, until they reluctantly gave in. But that was it, the Stare was meant as an obedience technique, not a weapon. Fluttershy herself hated using it. Why scare others into submission when you can just gently and kindly encourage them to listen.

Gulping, she flew wobbly up towards the captured Changling queen, her stomach a swirl of emotions.

Shyly reaching the raging Chrysalis, Fluttershy's body shook with fear as she witnesses her thrashing enemy, waiting nervously for the queen to notice her.

Chrysalis had yet to notice the petrified Pegasus in front of her, instead keeping her attention on getting out of the others grasp. Waving her face from side to side, she snarled and snapped before her eyes landed on the wall of yellow in front of her muzzle.

She stopped moving as she peered at Fluttershy, her irises burning holes into the younger's brain.

Shaking more violently now, Fluttershy pressed her front hooves to her chest as she inched closer.

Blinking hard, Fluttershy brought her chin forward and looked Chrysalis square in the eyes and with every ounce of force she could muster, she took a deep breath and opened her eyes.

The white's of her eyes widening to an almost unnatural level, she gave a glare unlike any other, one that dug into Chrysalis's eyes, making her stop her thrashing all together. The insect Alicorn felt her entire body freeze up under the Stare, her legs going limp and pupils dilating. Nothing she had ever endured could come close to this. The Stare bore into her soul, criticizing it of all her evil misdeeds. She had no words for all the emotions that suddenly flooded in her mind.

She'd been bad, she'd been very bad. She had too-

Wait a minute.

What was she doing? She was Queen Chrysalis of the Changlings. She apologized or answered to nopony!

She'd been bad, yes. And that was just fine, in fact, that was the point!

Chrysalis blinked her eyes rapidly before she threw her head up with a scream. Taken aback by this behavior, Fluttershy moved back in surprise, ceasing the Stare in the process. Heaving her chest in absolute anger, Chrysalis kicked her leg backwards, flinging Pinkie Pie off of her. Horn crackling with energy, she concentrated all her power within her being, body shaking under the immense pressure.

Feeling all the power reach the tip of her crooked horn, Chrysalis let out a roar as she let out a gigantic explosion of magic, eradicating the ponies magic around her wings and horn, flinging Fluttershy back, blasting RD off her tail and burning the lasso around her neck to ashes.

As all the ponies fell away from her, she slammed back onto the ground, her horn glowing green.

Regaining herself faster than her friends, Twilight sprung into action, positioning upright with her own horn at the ready. Picking themselves off the ground, all the ponies glared at Chrysalis, prepared for the next attack.
Twilight stared at her enemy, before speaking in a firm harsh voice.

"Chrysalis stop it! Revenge wont make you happy, it does nothing for you!"

Hissing like a feral animal, Chrysalis shouted.

"Never! You took my subjects away from me! Brainwashed them into following you! I'm here to avenge them."

Amongst the ponies, Starlight took a huff of a breath.

"What you were doing was wrong! We taught your subjects that they didn't need to feed off a pony's love in order to survive, they could share it instead. We didn't steal them from you, we just showed them a better way; A way that didn't involve stealing love!"

As the ponies argued with Chrysalis, Fluttershy sat back and watched, her own mind abuzz with thoughts.

The Stare had failed. She had failed. Her friends had been counting on her to subdue Chrysalis, and she let them all down. How? Was it because she had been afraid?

That's probably what it was. It had too have been, otherwise what else would it be? She scrunched her eyes as more tears began to form. She was always so afraid of everything. Dragons, the Everfree forest, Changlings, even her own shadow. She had always been a shy pony, not at all a fighter. What was wrong with her? She could do better, she knew she could. But why couldn't she make as much of a difference? Didn't she want to save the world?

she was always an isolated kind of girl, only really wanting to hang out her animals, and she was fine with that, but why couldn't she be brave like the girls when Equestria threatening disasters happened?

As tears spilled down her cheeks, Fluttershy began whimpering, which turned into a quiet cry, soon escalating into a sob.

Rainbow Dash, who was glaring daggers at Chrysalis, flicked an ear when what sounded like crying could be heard from behind her.

Her sight laid upon Fluttershy, weeping in the grass as she rubbed her wet eyes. In an instant, Chrysalis was pushed to the far corners of her mind, with Fluttershy now gaining all of her focus. Zipping over to her foalhood friend, Dash immediately sat next to her side, patting her back in a reassuring way while talking gently.

"Hey, hey, hey, its okay Flutters, its okay. Take it easy. Its alright."

Fluttershy continued to sob even through her friend's encouraging words, before whimpering to her softly.

"I'm sorry Rainbow Dash, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

As Rainbow kept trying to help Fluttershy, a couple of their friends noticed the new activity.

"Sorry? Why, whatever are you sorry about darling?" Rarity questioned, her expression gentle yet confused.

Fluttershy said nothing, still crying in her self pity.

Pinkie Pie, also noticing the exchange, perked up a small at her friend.

"Yeah! What're you sorry for, you're always there to help, that's what makes you a great part of the team!" She exclaimed, throwing her hooves up in the air

As Rainbow rubbed her back, Fluttershy breathed heavily, her mind growling at her.

But are you really?

She whispered something her rainbow-maned couldn't hear, as more of her friends now began to cheer her on.

"Why, whatever would you be sorry about sugarcube?"

"Darling, are you okay?"

Instead of thankful of their words, Fluttershy seemed to be more and more agitated by the second, mumbling words that Rainbow had started to pick up on.

"I don't deserve it, I don't deserve it, I'm just an obstacle in your way."

"Fluttershy? Whats wrong?"

"Hey girls, you know Chrysalis is still here right?"

"Your the bestist, bestist, bestististsis!"

Fluttershy continued to mumble and whimper, her tears streaming further down her face.

"im in your way, i'm sorry, i'm sorry, I'm sorry."

"Uh, Fluttershy, are you saying something?" Rainbow Dash asked her friend, now fully noticing the others' mumbles.

Hearing her friend's words, something inside Fluttershy snapped. Bringing her head up, her face contorted into a mixture of half frustrated and half crushed.

She breathed in and screamed into RD's face.

"I SAID I'M JUST IN YOUR WAY!"

Obviously taken aback by the unexpected retort, Rainbow Dash's eyes widened as she and the rest of her friends gaped, all confused with the yellow Pegasus's anger.

Due to the attention now focused solely on Fluttershy, the ponies had momentarily forgotten Chrysalis in the background.

Chrysalis, seeing her enemies too distracted and caught off guard to notice her, focused her concentration as her horn silently began to charge up. Breathing as quiet as a whisper, the Changling locked her eyes on her target, green energy awaiting orders.

The ponies meanwhile, continued to look like fishes at the panting/crying Fluttershy, unsure what to say.

Rainbow Dash, who was the most surprised out of the group, closed her mouth and gulped her dry throat and spoke in a shaky voice.

"Fl-Fluttershy, I...well..."

Heaving puffs of air, Fluttershy looked to her old friend, eyes full of anger and self hatred. As soon as they made contact however, her look immediately turned to one of regret and fear.

"I-I..."

Before she could finish her sentence, a loud roar crackled through the air, followed by a burst of fiery green magic ripping straight through the crowd of ponies, scrapping many of their sides and causing them to fall back.

Fluttershy kept her gaze on a stilled Rainbow Dash, before ponies yelling and the shaking ground caught her attention.

Confused, she looked to the side. And her eyes widened when a stream of green slammed into her.

The pain was immediate, excruciating and heavy with what felt like hot harpoons stabbed into her skin.

"AAAAAAAAAAGGHHHHHHHHH!

Fluttershy screamed in pain as her fur singed and lungs shrieked for air.

Rainbow held a hoof to her eyes as the evil magic engulfed her friend. Suddenly, the magic gave one last insult to injury and exploded like a bomb, the shockwave knocking the blue Pegasus off her legs and flinging her into the ground.

The same went with all the other ponies, who fell back as the shockwave rocketed through the meadow and found it's way to the trees of Everfree as well as the buildings of Ponyville. Glass windows and tree branches shattered/flew as many citizens watching the display ran for cover.

As the shockwave soon dissipated, the world stilled as the rest of the mane six laid on the ground. For a few minutes, nothing happened, until Twilight opened her eyes and blinked rapidly. Raising herself up with a wobbly hoof, she fluffed her wings and rubbed her eyes, trying to get the dirt out of them.

As she stood there, her brain took a moment to recuperate itself before something clicked.

Fluttershy!

Eyes widening, she whipped her head back, nearly getting whiplash, to check on her friend.

The rest of the ponies opened their eyes soon after, picking themselves up in an equally shaky way, rubbing their sore spots as some coughed up a lungful of dirt.

As they contained themselves, their mindsets quickly followed Twilight's and looked towards the direction of their injured friend, all prepared for the worst. Expecting a burned body, they nearly moved their feet when something truly horrible laid before their eyes.

Right in the spot where Fluttershy had previously been standing, was nothing but a smoking burnt spot of grass.

Nopony said a thing, the air suddenly thick with a deathly silence.

All faces turned pure pale, stomachs dropping miles. Pinkie had tears begin to form as Applejack felt her throat turn to sandpaper.

Twilight's body shook, her brilliant mind struggling desperately for an explanation. But the longer she stared at the burned ashy spot, her brain lost more and more of its grip on thinking.

"F-F-Fluttershy?" Twilight squeaked.

As the ponies continued to stare, a noise broke through the thick atmosphere.

"MMWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA!"

In a snap, all heads snapped towards a standing Chrysalis, laughing to the heavens.

Finishing her cackling, she dropped her head down to stare at the ponies.

"FOOLS! Looks like your 'friendship' isn't as powerful as it seems! Now that I have destroyed on of you, the Elements of Harmony are through! Nothing can stop my return now, the Changling empire will make the most glorious return ever, with me ruling at the helm. Hahahahahahahahahah!"

She finished her sentence with a laugh as she threw her head back.

The ponies on the other hand, were still too shocked to say nor do anything, each of their eyes glued to the spot on the ground.

As her laugh once again died down, she looked towards her foes with a seemingly sympathetic look.

"Oh but don't worry, if anything I was doing you all a favor. That yellow Pegasus was probably nothing but a liability to you all, a weak link that needed to be cut out. A job you obviously were too cowardly to commit to."

Chrysalis waved a hoof in the air, rolling her eyes.

"She was too weak, too independent to fend for herself, why, I bet she never even fought a day in her-"

Just before she could finish her sentence, a shrill scream ripped through the air.

"RRRAAAAAUUGHHHH!"

blinking her eyes, Chrysalis looked just in time to see a rainbow blur heading straight towards her.

Smirking, she readied her wings waiting for her foe to get close. As soon as Rainbow was two feet from her, Chrysalis flew herself up, watching Dash fly underneath her before crashing into a tree with a sick thud.

Smiling happily at Rainbow as she massaged her muzzle, Chrysalis barked out a laugh and turned towards the rest of the ponies.

"Oh relax, you'll get over it, I'm sure."

After her words, her face contorted into a look of wickedness.

"Don't worry Twilight, I'll take care of Equestria from now on, you can trust me on that."

With her last words spoken Chrysalis tensed all her muscles and sped off towards the far mountains, leaving her still gaping enemies behind.

As Rainbow rubbed her sore muzzle, spewing out curses, her friends stood like statues. Not a word was spoken, all too terrified to even speak.

It wasn't until Starlight cleared her throat, tears in her eyes.

"W-what... what just happened?"

The bar was abuzz with noise, the grating rock music filling the lonely air. On any other normal day, the old, beaten bar would be full of guests. Drinking, shouting to their hearts content, fist fights, horrible rehashed songs spilling out of their mouths. but tonight was no such night.

Inside the bar sat only one guest. A grizzled, dirty, brute of a man holding a tiny glass of alcohol in his bandaged meaty hand. His long, pitch black hair hung from his scalp, as he stared longingly at the iced beverage.

Never taking his eyes off the drink, he reached a hand to his pocket and pulled something out. Bringing the hand to his chest, he opened it up and placed three pills on the counter.

Lifting the glass up, without hesitation he slammed the small cup onto the three pills, crushing them to powder instantly. Letting the glass up, he brought it to the edge of the table, before placing his hand ahead of the crushed powder and sliding it over to the edge. Once the medicine was slid into his cup, he brought the liquor up to his lips and drank.

Gulping down the entire drink, after he was done he placed it roughly on the counter, rubbing his mouth with his hands.

Footsteps could be heard stomping towards him, lifting his head up, he saw the bartender himself walk over to him.

"It's for you." He spoke in an old voice, holding a phone out in his hand, motioning it towards his only customer. "Says his name's Malcom Vanhorn."

Snorting, the man shook his head, speaking in a tired voice.

"Not now."

Processing this information, the bartender shrugged his shoulder, a careless tone in his voice.

"Well alright, but if they call again I'm hanging up.Not some fucking answering machine." He grumbled as he stalked away.

Ignoring the snarky remark, the customer peered down at his beverage once more, a tired expression marring his features.

ETHAN.

Suddenly, the music in the room became disoriented. Confused by this, the man twisted his head around the room, searching for the reason behind.

WAKE UP.

"Wh-wha?" whatever words he was about to say were cut off as a skin splitting headache exploded inside his brain. wincing, the man brought his head down and clutched his temple, his hands shaking. But as he looked down, he started to notice something. the yellow alcohol that was once in the small cup was gone, and in it's place was crimson red blood. Eyes widening, he watched the beverage as the blood slowly pooled over the top as the lights dimmed. Breath hitching, the man shook his head from side to side, bringing a hand up to his face and closing his eyes.

As soon as it made contact, the disoriented music switched back to its original state, and once he opened his eyes, the drink was once again filled with ice, like nothing had happened in the first place.

Sighing in annoyance, the man turned his gaze from the drink and glared at the desk. He was used to this, but that sure as hell didn't make it enjoyable or any less painful.

As he sat quietly, he felt a rough bump knock his shoulder. Looking to the right in annoyance, he spaw another patron in a thick hoodie walking towards the exit. Normally, he would just huff at the person and call them a crude name under his breath.

But not this time. No, the man felt something in his gut that compelled him to continue staring at the leaving person. He glared as the person reached for the door, but not before they stopped, seemingly noticing the pair of eyes set on their back.

He saw the person suddenly whip around to face him, an ugly smile on his face.

The world turned cold when the two of them locked eyes, a deep tension cutting through the air. The man grit his teeth as he finally got a good enough look at the other person's face. It that was what you could call it. It was a guy first of all, that much was obvious. Second of all, his face was a sickly pale, with two prods attached to his lower lip. Instantly the man knew who, and what this guy really was.

In a blink of an eye, the man leapt from his seat and tackled the stranger, one of his bandaged hands wrapped tightly around the others throat while the other hand curled into a fist.

With a firm grasp on the other man, he immediately began slamming his fast into the other's jaw, his vision blurring alongside the bone shattering crunches following by each hit.

One.

Two.

Three.

Ceasing his attack, he looked at the stranger, who face was bloodied and broken, as his eyes wandered off to the sky in a daze. Huffing out air, the man let go of his foe and began to sit up, staring at the fallen man with disdain.

"GET OUT!"

Raising an eyebrow at the noise, the man turned around to see the bartender behind the counter, a bat in his hand and a challenging glare on his face.

"Now." the bartender growled, bat raised at the ready.

The man stared at the bartender, his lips morphing into a sneer. The two of them stared each other down, neither daring to make a move. That was, until the man slowly stalked towards the counter, seemingly about to attack. Once he was close enough, with one swift move, the man raised his hand and swatted his still sitting alcohol like a bug, flinging it into the far off wall.

Giving the bartender one last hateful look, the man spat on the ground and stormed out the door, stepping on his grounded foe in the process as one last kick in the teeth.

__________

Shoving the door open, he stormed down the wooden steps leading to the bar and out into the snowy, dark alleyway. Clenching his fists tight, he sat with a thud on the last step, a frown on his hairy chin as the snow seeped into his shirt.

Ethan Thomas snarled and in a fiery spark of rage, slammed it into the wooden beam beside him, nearly breaking the wood with his powerful fist before bringing it back and seeping his exhausted back further into the steps, staring at the towering city buildings all around him.

Why? Why was he the only one who cared enough to stop it... stop the evil hiding in this Godforbidden city?

As he stared up at the buildings, he noticed a bright, beautiful, yellow shooting star rip through the night sky.

Rock bottom

View Online

The chilly air blew fast in the wind, howling across the dirty alleyway and stinging skin when it brushed by. Neon streetlights flickered and buzzed, barely illuminating the darkness as the sounds of honking cars could be heard just behind the towering buildings. Pearly snow drifted through the sky, carried by the fast wind amongst the clouds shadowing the city, giving off a dreary, sad aura to the town.

Inside the cold alleyway, sitting on the bottom steps of the bar door was none other than Ethan Thomas, a miserable and angry frown on his face. Laying lazily on the steps, the man continued to glare ahead of him, sneering at his surroundings, mind blank and stomach empty. He refused to speak a word, instead focusing all his energy on staring hatefully at the world. This fucking sucked, hell everything fucking sucked, and everyone too. Everyone could go fucking fuck themselves.

Fuck.

He sighed as his right hand dragged across his face tiredly, could his life get any worse. He snorted loudly as the thought crossed his mind, what a question.

As he laid slouched on the wooden step, the sounds of footsteps along with wheezy huffs of breaths began to head towards his direction. Lifting his head, Ethan looked to see a raggedy, bearded black man walking towards him, no doubt a homeless bum by his worn clothes and stained beard. Raising an eyebrow, Ethan said nothing as he watched with a suspicious eye while this other man approached him, waiting for an explanation by this sudden visit.

Now just a foot from Ethan, the homeless man cleared his throat before coughing out his words.

“Hey now, it’s too damn cold to be sitting out here in the mud.”

The bum extended his hand downward towards Ethan, a small smile on his bearded face.

“Here, let me help you up.”

Both of them stared at each other, not saying anything after the homeless man finished his offer, with the raggedy man looking at the other expectedly, while Ethan bore a look that slowly morphed into one of disgust. Sighing, Ethan looked away from the man, shaking his head.

“Piss off.” he grumbled as he swatted the bum’s hand away, arching his back and rising himself back up to his feet. The bum’s face changed into an offended frown, bringing his hands up in mock surrender while grumbling.

“Hey easy! Just offering, no need to bite my head off, Jesus.”

Hands still held up, the bearded man backed away from Ethan, scoffing loudly. Once he was far enough away, the bum turned around and stalked off to a nearby trashcan, diving his hands into the bin. Ethan watched the other man walk away, before growling and drudging forward heading towards a wall of graffiti filled concrete. Once he reached the wall Ethan brought a hand up and roughly placed his forearm onto the gritty surface. He leaned over and gently pressed his forehead to the arm, sighing tiredly.

Right next to the alleyway a commuter train roared past, it’s sound echoing through the alley. .

Staring at the floor, Ethan stood still for a couple of minutes, head relaxed on his arm while letting out shallow, raspy breaths as he felt the cold wind bite at his exposed skin. Why couldn’t things just go right for him? He was a decent man. He helped people, he stopped murderers, he payed his taxes. (sort of.) So why in the hell did it seem like the universe despised him? Gritting his teeth, Ethan brought his other bandaged fist back and slammed it into the concrete, dust flying into the air on impact.

As the grumpy man continued to wallow in his misery the bum simply ignored him. Whistling a happy tune he rummaged through the garbage, pushing past metal scraps and broken dishes. At one point, the bum dipped his hand deep into a black bag wriggling his fingers in hopes of finding any kind of delicious treasure. Suddenly, his fingers brushed something unfamiliar. Raising an eyebrow, he sunk his hand deeper into the bag, latching his palm around object, and pulled his hand out of the bag. He nearly shrieked when he saw just what was in his hand. A big, fat rat thrashed violently in his palm, squeaking bloody murder as it tried to push the bum’s fingers away. Reeling in utter disgust the bum flung the rat into a pile of wood, watching as it scurried off in fear.

Going back to his scavenging, he took a moment to sniff the air for a minute, before immediately regretting that decision. Damn, something smelled like shit! And for some reason, he knew it wasn’t the garbage.

Sniffing the air, he turned around and looked at Ethan, who was still resting himself on the side of the building. Chuckling, the bum shifted over back to the garbage before shouting over his back.

“Hey buddy, I gotta tell you, you smell worse than I do! And I sleep in garbage.”

Turning his head to the side, Ethan glared at the bum before bringing his arm down from the wall and to his side. Lifting his other arm, Ethan twisted his wrist and brought out his middle finger.

“Hey, screw you!”

The bum flung himself from the trash looking up at Ethan in shock.

“Whoa!” he shouted. “Looks like we got ourselves a mean drunk. A real grade A asshole!” With that the bum shifted away from the bin, across Ethan and headed over to the other side of the alley where the middle was sectioned off by a row of barrels and thrown out washing machines.

As he walked towards the row of junk, the bum halted himself right on the spot, seemingly contemplating something in his head, before turning around to face the other occupant.

“Look man, I don’t need another enemy.” He rasped, “You probably don’t either. So what say we start over.”

Hearing this, Ethan simply rolled his eyes at the homeless man, he was far too busy to be mingling around with this loser. Noticing the other’s hesitance, the stained bum pursed his lips in thought. After a few seconds of thinking, a lightbulb clicked in his mind.

“H-hey I got just the thing that would make us friends. Follow me!”

Pushing a stray washing machine out of his way, which created a decent sized gap in between the strewn about junk, the bum thrusted up his hand and beckoned Ethan to follow him.

Raising an eyebrow, Ethan crossed his arms and glared at the bum, confused. Wait, he didn’t mean… did he? Robotically scanning the surroundings beside him, Ethan sighed heavily before begrudgingly stepping forward. Well, if following this guy meant what he thought, best get on with it. The other man was just a few feet from him, so it took no time at all for Ethan to catch up to him.

“I’m guessing there’s not much waiting for you at home, except maybe drinking alone.” The bum chuckled as he brushed between the gap, followed quickly by Ethan, as both headed for a flight of stairs leading towards an on-land boardwalk housing doors to other shops and buildings. Reaching the top of the board walk first, the bum walked towards a lengthy chicken wire fence, blocking them from where Ethan guessed his “secret stash” was. However, once the other man grabbed the gate lock and pulled, the fence rattled, yet didn’t move an inch. Confused by this, the bum pulled once more on the lock, but the gate simply refused to open. Frustrated by the unexpected turn of events, the bum shouted out to his “partner” for help.

“Hey buddy, when you’re ready for that drink, how about you gimme a hand getting this here gate open.”

Reaching the top of the stairs, Ethan noticed the other’s plight and stormed up to him.

“Hey, step in there and open it up for me wou-“

Whatever he was about to say next was interrupted by a rough hand shoving him out of the way, before Ethan brought a leg back and slammed his heel full force into the gate door, busting it open in one fell swoop.

Seeing this, the bum’s eyes widened in shock as he damn near clapped his arms in excitement.

“Jeez man, you done broke the latch! Oh well, Entrez Vous my new friend!”

Ignoring him, Ethan stalked ahead, before noticing that now the both of them were in a big box like area, the perimeter squared off by the fence. As he scanned the area, a sick feeling formed in his stomach, something was not right here.

Clearly the bum hadn’t felt the same, as he continued shuffling towards a different side of the fence. “Yeah, my secret stash is over here…. MOTHERFUCKER!”

Turning around, Ethan looked at the bum whose face was tomato red as he glared daggers at the sleeping form of a man behind the other side of the gate, empty bottles of cheap whisky scattered beside him.

Looks like some other thug had gotten to the stash first.

The bum he was with didn’t look so pleased, as evidence by him thrashing the gate in a vice like grip and kicking his foot into the metal chicken wire.

“Those were mine you piece of shit!” He hollered. “Wake up!” Finally hearing the hysterical man, the stranger grunted before turning his body and lifting himself off the ground, facing the two of them.

As he pulled himself to his feet, all three locked eyes, and the bum Ethan was with backed away with a barely contained gasp.

The “stranger” was in fact the very same freak of nature Ethan had nearly pummeled to death in the bar. As he stood tall in front of Ethan, his sickly pale face and screwed up lower jaw leered at the two men, holding his arms out to his sides with a challenging tone. It certainly looked as though he had quickly healed from Ethan’s assault.

“Stinking drunks.” His said in a deep, dripping voice. “Just a couple of losers.”

Processing his words, Ethan stepped forward and pointed an accusing finger at the stranger.

“Hey, come say that to my face!” He hissed. The stranger scoffed at his threat, before walking up to the gate a shoving it with his elbow, causing it to creak and rattle.

“We should have killed you a long time ago.” He growled.

Ethan’s brain paused for a moment when he heard those words, dropping his guard. “We” should have killed you? Was he implying them?

Ethan brought his fists up and cracked his knuckles. “Yeah? Why don’t you come fix your mistake?”

Instead of responding, the hooded thug turned to his left towards a shadowy figure in a dark corner next to a building. Bringing back his foot, the stranger kicked harshly into what could only be a pair of ribs followed by the sound of grunting and growling.

Immediately after, the thug walked over to his right and kicked another figure closer to the gate. “Get up,” The stranger growled “…All of you!”

The figures he so graciously woke up, were in fact other homeless and brutish men, men who did not seem happy to be woken from their lumber in the slightest.

One thug, a bald man in a buffy orange coat, locked onto Ethan and sprung up the gate in haste. The bum Ethan was allies with began to shake in fear, backing farther away as the other man climbed over the fence.

“U-uh m-m-maybe we should get out of here.” He mumbled as he ran to a dumpster for safety.

Ethan watched as his companion hid but refused to follow. Instead, he looked towards the orange clad thug who had made it over the fence and onto his side, hopping around like a rabbit with his fists up.

“Let’s go asshole!” He spat, before charging full steam ahead towards Ethan.

Readying himself for the coming attack, Ethan watched as the thug ran towards him, waiting as the other man grew closer, and closer, and closer. Right until they were just inches apart, the thug threw a fist towards Ethan’s face, who, in one quick motion, dodged his head out of the way just in time and positioned his leg in front of the thug’s leg, causing him to trip.

Letting out a surprised yelp, the thug waved his hands in the air as his legs chaotically tired to steady himself. As the thug grabbed onto the chicken wire to steady himself, Ethan took this chance to twist his torso around, cocked his fist back, and thrusted it down with all his might, landing it into the thug’s spine with a bone shattering crack! Eyes widening in pain, the thug gave out a throaty choke full of blood before letting go of the gate and falling limply to the floor. Watching the thug’s body carefully, Ethan kept a trained eye on him until he was certain the bum was down for the count. Lifting his head up to the gate, he stared his pale nemesis in the face, a challenging tone in his voice.

“Who’s next?” He growled.

His answer was the sound of the gate rattling once more. Looking to his left, his eye laid on yet another thug scurrying up the fence and dropping onto the other side, his fists raised with a smirk on his lips.

This bum was taller than the previous one, sporting a ratty black jacket with fire emblems on the sleeves, nose and eyebrow pins marring his face, along with little to no hair on his head. Ethan said nothing as he continued to peer at the thug, his expression stone cold. For about a minute and a half, all was silent, the two of them simply watched each other, waiting for one to make the first move. After a while, the thug grew impatient with the lack physical contact, his smirk slowly growing stale as his already thinned patience deteriorated.

Grinding his teeth, he barked out to Ethan.

“Well?! Come ‘on then asshole! Do someth-“

BAM!

Whatever words he had yet to finish were cut off by a fist bashing into his lower jaw, sending him flailing back in shock. Ethan cocked another fist back and slammed it right into the center of the thug’s chest, making him let out a small breathily “Oof!” before the other man quickly steadied himself.

Mouth shrieking in pain, the thug lifted his fists up and let out a bloodcurdling scream, charging like a raging bull towards Ethan. But as soon as he got closer, in one fell swoop Ethan brought a hand up and latched onto the thug’s offending forearm in a steel grip and followed with a crushing blow to the thug’s temple, knocking him unconscious.

“God damn!” a voice called out. Looking over his shoulder, Ethan laid eyes on his companion behind the dumpster, whose face was full of shock and awe. “You’re a badass!” He cheered, fists pumping in the air.

Rolling his eyes, Ethan looked back towards the gate when he felt a fist connect with his nose, snot and blood flaring into his sinuses on impact. Coughing in shock, Ethan stepped back as another fist compacted into his stomach, causing him to grit his teeth in pain. Looking up, he saw another thug, this one in a white hoodie, bringing his leg up to kick Ethan. Immediately taking action, Ethan dodged the coming attack and brought his forehead back and head butted right in the thug’s left eye, earning a yelp of pain from his attacker.

The attacker shook off the headbutt with ease, before swinging his fist towards Ethan. Prepared for the hit this time, Ethan brought both of his forearms up and as soon as the offending fist made contact, he swung his forearms out to the side, knocking the thug back before he slammed his own fist into his enemies throat and kicked him in the unmentionables. It was a technique he used often, this “parry” move, that saved his skin more than once in his life. As soon as a hit coming your way makes contact with your forearms, knock the hit back by pushing it away, it was like barrel rolling after jumping off a high place to lessen the strain on your legs.

“Yeah, that’s right! Woahoo!’’ His complain cheered from behind him.

Landing another kick to his enemy’s head, knocking him to the ground, Ethan turned back towards the gate, ready for another round.

Rattling once again caught his attention, as another thug hopped over the fence, only this time, there was something in his hands that sparked Ethan’s attention. Squinting through the darkness of the alley, all he could make out was a large wooden object in his hands, one that was thick and splintery. Humming in thought, Ethan clenched his fist as the new thug grit his teeth together and flew towards Ethan in a second. He whipped his hand up, allowing Ethan to see just what was in his hand, a thick 2x4.

Blinking in surprise, Ethan flung his body to the side, the offending 2x4 just barely hitting him, before he slammed his fist into the other’s lower ribs. The thug stumbled forward, away from Ethan who held up his fists in defense, before he grit his teeth and darted his head side-to-side, scanning the surrounding area desperately. He needed a weapon, anything would do. A brick, a trash can, a chair leg, something!

As he scanned the area, his hopes grew more and more desperate, there was absolutely nothing in the alleyway to help him fight. In his searching, he noticed the thug begin to get up, eye full of hatred. Surely there had to be something-THERE!

Sticking out in a small tin trash can next to the giant green dumpster where his companion was hiding, were a bunch of wooden 2x4s, ripe for the taking. Diving for the bin, Ethan quickly snatched one of the wooden boards just as the thug tried to hit him with his 2x4. Speedily dodging the attack, Ethan stepped away from his attacker, wooden weapon at the ready.

“Oh, you wanna dance buddy?” The thug jeered. Ethan ignored him as he himself charged towards the bum, fist and 2x4 up in defense. The thug seemed to take this action as a response to his previous taunt, as he also stepped forward to combat his opponent.

In mere seconds the two of them slammed into each other, their bodies screaming in pain upon impact. The both of them grunted as their shoulders pushed into one another, wrestling for the upper hand. Suddenly, quicker than the eye could see, Ethan swung his fist up and crushed it into the thug’s trachea, causing him to submit his pushing to hold his throat in pain. Wasting no time, Ethan lifted his 2x4 and swung down with all his might, bashing it into the thug’s skull and knocking him to the floor.

As the thug laid on the ground, Ethan stood over him out of breath, huffing deeply as he tried to collect himself. All was silent in the alleyway now, not a sound to be heard except a passing commuter train just a few feet from them. Finally, peace and quiet.

“We ain’t done yet bub!”

Great. Ethan sighed as his fingers pinched the bridge of his nose, clutching the 2x4 in his hand tighter. Why couldn’t these freaks just move on.

Turning around, he saw not one, but two thugs jump over the gate and face him, one holding another 2x4 in his hand, while the other held a large metal pipe. Joyous.

Wooden post held up to his chest, Ethan glared at the two men, waiting for them to make the step. The two thugs nodded to each other before separating, beginning to encircle Ethan as they glared back. Walking around him until all three were in a straight line with Ethan in the middle. They stood still in the night, tension thick in the air. For minutes none made a move, all too interested in the other to strike first and combat the attack.

The bitter snowy wind chipped Ethan’s ears as he silently waited, eyes darting back and forth between the two men. He wouldn’t make the first move, that’s just what they wanted, and he was in no mood to play games.

Fortunately, his hesitance was already beginning to take it’s toll on the thug to his right, as impatient frustration started to build within him. He shuffled his feet in the snow as his palm flexed in anticipation, why won’t this bastard do something? He didn’t have all night dammit! He wanted to beat something, he NEEDED to beat something, needed to feel the warmth of blood on his hands, and who better than this dumbass to wreck his needs upon.

The thug’s shuffling slowly grew faster. His teeth gnashed together as the pipe in his hand twirled. Ethan looked at him, face marring one of confusion, did this idiot need to piss or something?

While Ethan was busy focusing on the other thug, the bum on his left took the opportunity to attack his enemy from behind.

As Ethan watched the fidgety thug, his brain seemingly snapped its fingers reminding him of the other thug. Eyes widening, Ethan twisted his head to the other side.

WACK!

In a split second he felt the thickness of a 2x4 slam into his neck, making him drop to his knees in surprise. The other thug opened his mouth in surprised glee before swinging his own weapon down, connecting it with Ethan’s temple.

Grunting in pain, Ethan leaned over and placed his hands on the ground, barely able to steady himself before a powerful force bashed into his ribs.

“Come ‘on man, you’re getting the shit kicked out of you! Mix it up, you know, left, right, left!” His extremely unhelpful companion shouted from behind the dumpster.

Why don’t you come over here then?! Ethan clenched his fists as he felt the metal pipe whack his spine. Huffing, he quickly scanned the area for anything of use, his 2x4 having dropped from his hand by the earlier strike and laid far from reach.

The thug with the pipe grinned as he brought his weapon up, prepared to swing it down upon his enemy’s head with all his might.

However, as soon as it was just inches away from hitting it’s target, a hand shot up and stopped it midair. Blinking in surprise, the thug looked down to see Ethan twist the pipe to the side with his hand, before what felt like a rocket crashed into his stomach, letting go of his weapon in the process. Taking the metal pipe from his attacker, Ethan hoisted himself up quick as a flash and swiped the thug with the pipe across the face, causing him to step back towards the dumpster in pain.

Turning his attention away from the thug, Ethan looked just in time to see the previous thug run towards him with a flying fist. Thinking fast, he brought his forearms out again and waited once again until the fist was close enough before swinging them out to the side. This caused the attacker to back up in surprise, allowing Ethan to swing the metal pipe into the thug’s face, hitting his jaw with a sickening crunch. He wasn’t done yet though, not by a long shot.

Ethan brought the pipe back and backhandedly hit the thug again, this time smacking it into his temple and causing him to yell out in pain as blood dripped down his head. Ethan scowled as he clenched the pipe in his hand, and with one last hefty swing, bashed it on the thug’s face, a loud metallic crunch filling the air.

As the thug limply dropped to the dirty ground, Ethan now focused his attention on the last remaining bum, who had his back against the dumpster, rubbing his face in pain. Wasting no time, Ethan sped towards him and whacked him on the cheek with his weapon, but as soon as it made contact, the pipe gave out one last groan before its rusty metal snapped in two, rendering it useless. Holding the broken pipe up in bewilderment, Ethan furrowed his brows and tossed the scrap piece away, before grabbing onto his enemy’s throat with both his hands. The thug looked to Ethan in shock as he latched onto his wrists, trying in vain to pull them away as Ethan’s grip grew tighter.

Soon, Ethan’s hold had become so tight, the thug’s eyes were beginning to widen, almost like they were two seconds away from popping out. After a few more seconds, the thug wheezed as he gurgled for air, the finger coiling a deathly grip on his throat, his face beet red as his terrified eyes stared into Ethan's cold ones. With one last ounce of strength, Ethan brought a hand up, placed it onto the thug’s face, shoved it to the side, and…

CRACK!

the sound of the thug’s neck snapping echoed throughout the alley. Letting go of his enemy, Ethan watched as the body slowly slumped over, all life drained from it.

Ethan panted as his ears awaited the sound of the chain fence rattle, for the threats and taunts of more thugs to be heard as they scampered towards him.

.............

Silence.

Nothing but the wind and snowy air accompanied him as he stood like a statue, catching his breath as he peered at the bodies surrounding him. He winced as aching pain soared through his sides and face, a decent sized headache forming in his brain. Thank God. It was over. He didn’t need so many annoyances tonig-

“LOOK OUT!”

Suddenly, a hard force collided into the back of his head, knocking him to the floor instantly. Bashing his head on the concrete, Ethan felt his body being turned on his back as his eyes looked up to the pollution filled clouds.

The sounds of shuffling could be heard as he felt a heavy weight press onto his stomach, making him cough out for air. Lifting his head off the ground, he saw the pale stranger from before, an oily smirk on his face as he crawled over Ethan. Wading onto his chest, the stranger smiled as he lifted a brick over his and Ethan’s head, his voice echoing through the night.

“Ready to have some fun?” he chuckled.

Ethan said nothing as he watched the other ‘man’ stare at him like a giggling child. Without waiting for a response, the stranger grabbed Ethan by the throat and swung the brick onto his face.

Within seconds the world began to blur.

………….

…………

Ethan lifted his head in confusion. He’d seen the stranger hit him in the face, that much was certain. But… he wasn't sure about what happened after. In fact, as the brick came into contact with his skin, it hit him... but at the same time it didn’t.

It was almost like it had phased right through his cheek, but it still managed to knock his head to the side. The pain was ghostly, it felt like he had gotten hit by a force, yet the force was heavy and small.

Whatever. It didn’t matter, he needed to get this jackass off of him. Bringing a defensive fist up, Ethan lifted himself up and prepared himself to forcefully knock his opponent away, but when he got up to look at him, the stranger was gone. Twisting his head from side to side, he found no trace of the other man, it was like he had completely disappeared from thin air.

Grunting, he sat up on his bum to better see his surroundings, a palm resting on the floor as he laid his forearm on one of his knees. Now that he was looking at it, he was completely alone in the alley. The bodies of the thugs were gone, not even a spot in their place. One peer to the side and he noticed that his companion was no longer behind the dumpster. Ethan’s brain whirred in confusion, demanding answers, where was everyone?

“Hello?” he called out.

His only response were the sounds of electricity crackling from telephone wires up above him. Huffing, he slowly sat up rolling his shoulder, the bones giving out painful little pops. Once he was done, he twisted his torso left to right, scanning the environment, trying to find any form of life. When none greeted him, he let out a small sigh before walking towards the gate door, grabbing it’s handle and pushing it forward.

It didn’t budge.

Blinking, he pushed the door once more, the chicken wire rattling in response, yet the door refused to move. Scowling, he stepped back before slamming his shoulder into the gate, making it rattle even more. Nothing.

Now confused more than ever, he took a step back, hands crossed in frustration. He resisted the urge to stamp his foot like a child. Just what the hell was going on here?!

Suddenly, he felt a deep chill crawl up his spine, making him twist around in an instant, hackles raised. An empty alley greeted him, with nothing but flickering, broken neon signs, darkness from the shadows and the snow.

Wait, the snow. Something was wrong with it. Dropping his guard, he squinted ahead at the frosted droplets, scanning them like a detective, before his brain clicked. The snow was falling, but at an unnaturally slow rate, almost not moving at all. Ethan blinked, bringing up his bandaged hands and rubbing his eyes, he had to be seeing this wrong, he just had to be. He mumbled grumpily as he brought his hands up, gently cupping a snowflake in his hands, peering at it as the flake slowly drifted into his palms. In a blink of an eye, the flank dissipated right to the touch, like any normal flake would. Bringing his hands down, he silently watched the snow fall, mind gone.

ETHAN.

Flipping around, he raised his fists once again in defense. However, now that he had turned, there in front of him was a new gate door, leading to a smaller boardwalk balcony next to a T.V. store. Ethan froze, eyes set on the new door.

Was that there before?

He stared suspiciously at the gate, unsure what to do. Should he go, or stay? Which was safer?

He once again looked around the area he was in, noting how alien and eerie things had become. The sheer aura around him felt dangerously off, like there was a warning tone to it. Almost as if something was telling him the moment he turned his back, he’d regret it instantly.

He cleared his dry throat. Well, it sure beat the hell out of staying here.

Keeping a wary eye behind him, he walked over to the new door, hand reaching for the latch, when the ground started to shake. Ethan shot back as the ground rumbled and groaned nearly knocking him off his feet, as this was happening, he saw the flimsy steel boarding of the T.V. store fly off their hinges and fall into the alley below. Slowly, the ground ceased its rapid shaking, allowing him to steady himself once more as he whipped his head around frantically. What the hell was that?!

He scanned his surrounding on instinct, trying to see any unfamiliarity’s with the environment. He saw nothing but a cold, dead area. Ethan narrowed his brows, standing stock still as the slow snow drifted to the floor. Only the cold wind accompanied him, as if beckoning his mind to press forward. Sighing in defeat, Ethan begrudgingly trudged back towards the new gated door, this time eyeing the world around him wearily. As he walked through the gate, he peered over the metal railing looking out over the alley, where the panels had flown off and crashed down. He narrowed his eyes as he continued moving, noticing the balcony ended just a few feet from him and led into the T.V. store. Before his brain could register what to do, however, a loud pop exploded in his left ear and sparks shot into his vision, instantly causing him to turn his head to the side. In the front of the store was a display case with the glass protecting it long shattered. Scattered on the bottom row of the case were a slew of small televisions, with the one on the far right’s antenna sparking and the screen full of crackling static.

Without realizing what he was doing, his arm shot out and grabbed the antennas before practically moving on their own and rotating the satellite sticks, trying to get a better signal on the T.V. As he struggled to figure out why the actual fuck he was doing this, the T.V. let out a buzzing shriek signaling a new station was found. Staring into the T.V. Ethan saw the “standby” signal appear, before the screen went black and a figure stood in the middle of the frame. A knot twisted in Ethan’s gut as he continued to look at the figure, who’s angle, and grey shirt, indicated that whoever it was had their back to him. Suddenly, the T.V. shook and a raspy, cold voice growled through the dusty speakers.

“Ignoring Vanhorn’s call was foolish and you know it.” Though tough to see through the dark, Ethan could roughly see the figure shake its head, before turning around and giving him full view of his face. It was a man, buffed up and dirty looking, but that’s not what caught his eye. What caught his eye was the fact that the strange man had a doll mask for a face, one that bore holes into Ethan’s head. “Forget the past, how he used you, how he destroyed your life. Find him, like you, he knows about them, and right now…” The T.V began to zoom in on the man’s face, as what seemed like black tar started to swallow him whole. “…That’s all you’ve got.”

The tar had now fully covered the screen, as the flash of white static indicated the message was over. Ethan raised an unamused eyebrow at the display before letting go of the antennas, his mind debating where he should plan his destination. As his mind wandered, his eyes wandered to the T.V. store door. He pursed his lips, should he press on? Or should he just go back to where he came from?

Suddenly, a steel grip dug like white hot nails into his shoulder before he felt his whole body forcefully whip itself around, bringing him face to face with the one thing that clouded his mind for months. Malcolm Vanhorn. Well, at least it looked like Vanhorn. As the older man stood before him, through the darkness of the alleyway Ethan could just barely make out his old ally’s features. His face, what he guessed resembled one, was paper sheet pale and hollow. His eyes had been sunken in, with drippy black ooze pooling out of them, trailing down his cheeks onto his worn brown trench coat.

Throat dry, an excuse of a response crawled up and Ethan stammered. “Vanhorn? W-what are you…?”

Whatever words he had left to say were interrupted as the old man twitched and lurched forward like a deranged animal, ooze and spittle flying out of his mouth like a stream and splashing into the other man’s face, causing him to cry out in pain, bringing his hands up to his eyes to cover himself.

The black ooze burned into his skin like acid, small trickles slipping through the cracks in his fingers threatening to spill in his eyes.

And just as fast as it happened, it stopped. Blinking, he opened his eyes, and to his surprise, no longer saw the ooze in between his fingers. Dragging his hands down, he noticed that Vanhorn was no longer there either, he had completely disappeared.

Turning his head from side to side, he took a minute to look at the area and sighed. Not that he had anything else to do. Grumbling, Ethan stepped forward towards the door bringing his hand out and latching it onto the handle before pushing it open.

As soon as he did, the door let out a shrill creak, the metal hinges cracking and groaning while the smell of rust wafted through his nose. Sneering in disgust, Ethan stomped forward letting go of the door, causing it to automatically shut behind him. As soon as the door closed, the entire room went black, only the popping sparks of broken TVs and the flickering light in a far-off portion of the store giving light.

Letting out a simple annoyed huff, Ethan brought a hand to his back pocket, blindly pulling a metal object out and bringing it to his face. Clicking the button, his flashlight blinked to life, lighting up a decent part of the room.

The TV store was entirely decrepit and torn, mold splitting the walls in half and insulation hanging from the ceiling. Just a short way away was what looked to be stairs heading up into the upper floor. Walking ahead, Ethan stepped over tossed TVs and fallen pipes as he headed for his destination.

Stepping into a separated boxlike room, he noticed a closed closet door to his left. Stopping himself, he mulled something in his mind before relenting to his inner thoughts and trudged over to the closet. Weird idea or no, the closet might hold something in there for him. Grabbing the handle, he pushed the door open just inches before a heavy force slammed it back shut.

Grunting in both confusion and annoyance, he sputtered a question before a black figure poked its head up in the glass window of the door, barking its head off. Ethan snorted before backing away, turning his attention back to the stairs. Damn mutt.

Finally reaching the staircase, he trudged upward, the old wood creaking and groaning underneath his shoes as he walked, until he made it to the top. Greeted by a closed door, he reached out and prepared to open it, only to find it locked tight. Gripping the handle, he leaned his body back, tensed his shoulder, before ramming it like a sledgehammer into wood. That only resulted in a sharp pain snaking through his shoulder muscle. Shaking his arm, he snarled before he caught something in the corner of his eye. Turning his head, he saw another TV sitting on a shelf next to the door, static buzzing on the screen. Before he could control himself, his arm lifted up and grabbed the antennas, shifting them in a circular motion to find the signal.

Just like last time, the static on the TV soon began to fade, and the silhouette of Metro city could be seen as the same voice as before began speaking in a harsh tone.

“You know better than most that there’s scum in this city…” Suddenly, the masked man rose from the bottom of the screen, only his upper half visible as he spat out his words like poison. “…violent, hateful, fucking insane scum! There’s no talking, there’s no reasoning, just killing.” As he spoke, static began to fill up more of the screen, obscuring the masked man’s face as he finished. “Kill first or be a rotting corpse for the birds.”

Ethan scowled as the strange man finished his threatening words, static overtaking the screen yet again, obscuring the masked person until nothing could be seen. Ethan looked back at the door, contemplating his actions. There wasn’t any way through the door, that was for certain. But he did see a set of stairs leading downward to the basement; might as well check that out. Turning around he stepped down the staircase, holding onto the railing as he tensed up. It felt as though he was being watched in every corner, but every time he looked, no one was there.

As the first floor came to his view he immediately headed over to the basement stairway. However, as he came closer to the entrance, he began to notice something different morph in the air, an unsettling aura settling itself around him. Struggling to figure out what he was feeling, the man barely noticed that he had reached the entrance of the staircase. The unsettling feeling was definitely stronger now, as he stared down at the entrance and viewed the basement down below. Somewhere in the cellar a light was on illuminating a good percentage of the place, so he didn’t need his flashlight.

Clicking the light off, Ethan put the flashlight back in his back pocket, he brought a foot forward and began his decent down the stairs. Walking down, he noticed the already thick air grow thicker, as the off feeling spiked, making him clench his teeth. Reaching the floor of the lower deck, he saw the light bulb brightening the room, giving the place a less spooky appearance. He began to walk towards the light when all of a sudden, he heard laughter echo throughout the room, before the form of a thug jumped from behind a full shelf and swung a large object at the bulb, smashing it to pieces, causing the whole cellar to go dark. Still laughing, the thug looked at Ethan with a glare before running back behind the shelf.

Rolling his eyes, Ethan looked around, before turning his attention to a metal pipe crawling up the wall. An idea formed in his mind before he shot a hand out and firmly grabbed the metallic object, and without a moment’s hesitation ripped it from the wall. The metal bent in half, giving him a good piece of the pipe. Lifting it up in his hands, he surveyed his newfound weapon, before turning around and heading towards the shelf. This dumbass wanted to play, then he’d play.

As he got closer, Ethan slowed his steps as he inched towards the other side of the shelf, before a scream broke through the air and the form of a man shot out in front of him. The thug roared as he brought his hand up, holding a metal object, and swung it down at Ethan. Thinking quickly, Ethan lifted his own weapon just in time to block the incoming assault on his face, the colliding impact sending out an echoing clang throughout the basement. Snapping to action, Ethan tensed his hold on his weapon and thrust his arms to the side, flinging the thug’s hands and weapon along with him. In shock, the bum stumbled to the side as Ethan brought his hand up and threw a hefty swing to his enemy’s temple, the metal pipe in his hand creaking in exasperation.

Screaming in pain, the thug hoisted his upper body up and flung his weapon left and right, desperately trying to ward off the other man. Unfazed by this, Ethan sprung forward and swatted the other’s weapon away before whacking the bum with his own. The momentum of his swing causing the bum to fly into the shelf face first, knocking him out instantly. Ethan watched as his enemy slumped to the ground, unconscious, before snorting and turning around.

The thickness in the air was unbearable now, making Ethan growl at the sudden invisible heaviness weighing down on his skull. Narrowing his eyes he noticed the thickness in the air grow tenser the more he moved to the left, like there was an invisible current moving through the air causing him to look in said direction. Ahead of him, shrouded in the dark, was what looked to be yet another shelf, and on it sat a lone T.V. static flickering on the screen.

Without thinking, he walked over towards the small T.V. instantly noticing the antennas sprouting from the top, and once again, felt his arms automatically grab them. pursing his lips, he twisted his wrists as the antennas tried to find a decent signal for the screen. As before, the static on the T.V. flickered, struggling as remnants of a signal began to appear, soon followed by the masked man looking smugly at Ethan. However, what caught his eye was the fact that the strange man had his arms spread out from his upper chest. In the middle of his stretched-out hands, black tar began to materialize out of midair, seemingly covering something round and big. As the goopy tar dripped off the object, the form of some sort of reddish-brown metal disk peeked out into the open.

“See this pretty little thing? The man on the other side sneered. The city’s full of these damn sonic devices, they're fucking with people's brains and they don't even know it. Where they come from is something you'll have to learn, but in the meantime do yourself and the city a favor. Destroy them."

Once again, static began to override the screen, obscuring the man and the disk completely. Letting go of the antenna, Ethan groaned as a strange and eerie ringing filled the dark corners of his ears, as though a sharp, piercing knife had dug into the very essence of sound, bleeding the air. Looking over to his left, he squinted his eyes to notice an object hanging on the wall, darkened by the cellar’s shadow. Cautiously, he took a step forward only to feel an added weight slam itself into his skull, causing him to grit his teeth and press on. With every step, the world buzzed and fizzed all around him, almost like he had just gotten off a Zero Gravity roller coaster. He clenched his fists as the object became more and more clear to his eyes, the form of a circular, rustic metal disk appearing through the dark.

So, this is what the freak on the screen was talking about? He glared at the device, his mind racing with the possibilities that hundreds of these stupid little things could be hidden all around Metro City, but what kind damage were they actually doing? As the question grazed his mind, a sick, scared feeling pooled in his stomach, another already clear sign that whatever this disk was, it certainly wasn’t for people’s good health.

Growling, he popped his neck before bringing his arm back, with the pipe still in his hand, and thrusted full force into the mechanical emitter, the force shattering the disk like glass on impact. As soon as his weapon made contact, the heaviness in the air dissipated and all was finally quiet.

The man let out a hefty sigh, shaking his head as his hand massaged his nose.

His peace was soon interrupted as a loud bang came from upstairs, followed by footsteps hurrying towards the cellar’s opening.

“Yoohooo! Whatcha doing down there pig!?”

Ethan rolled his eyes as the shout of a random bum called from up the stairs, before stalking around the shelf and heading towards the entrance, the sounds of scuffling feet echoing through the cellar the closer he got. The dim light of the lone lightbulb upstairs could be seen as he continued followed by what had to be sinister chuckling. Making it to the first step, he cautiously took a step forward, placing himself in full view in front of the stairs, and looked up with a glare. Through what little light there was, he saw a tall silhouette of the bum peering back down at him, giving Ethan a crude gesture before twisting around and running out of view.

Unfazed by this, Ethan brought his foot forward up to the second step before he stopped at the sound of rustling coming from the top. No sooner had he stopped than the bum came back into his view; this time carrying an obviously heavy and very big object in both of his hands. Grunting in annoyance, the bum staggered over the top step and let out a chuckle.

“Want your face on T.V.!?”

Without waiting for Ethan to respond, the bum shouted and heaved the small screen towards his enemy, who blinked in surprise before quickly dodging to the left as the box tumbled down the stairs and bashed into the wall harmlessly. Sneering, Ethan gripped the weapon in his hand tighter as he began to head up the steps. Seeing this, the bum growled before once again running back out of view, followed by more rustling.

Reaching halfway up the cellar, Ethan saw the bum rush back with another T.V. and wordlessly chucked it without hesitation, causing Ethan to duck as the screen sailed past his head. Immediately, Ethan pushed himself forward and stepped off the stairs, just in time to see the bum pick up another T.V. and rush off into the main part of the store, laughing all the way as his voice faded in the darkness.

“Why don’t you try channel Fuck off and Die!? HAHAHA!”

As he watched the idiot skulk off further into the store, Ethan grit his teeth in annoyance and followed him, obscuring himself in the dark shadows.

For a few seconds, the store was silent, save for the constant shuffling of feet and the throaty chuckles of the bum. Suddenly a swear sounded off in the darkness, followed by the intense clanging of bulky bodies slamming against the rusty shelves. T.Vs, radios and speakers clattered off their designated places and onto the floor, as the sounds of struggling continued.

“Hey-agh! Let go of me you fucking bitch, or I swear I'll fuck you u-“

Crunch!

The echoes of a metal pipe crashing into a head vibrated throughout the shop, and all was silent, until the stout form of Ethan reemerged from the shadows, the metal pipe in his hand now broken and useless. Tossing the scrap piece haphazardly, he placed a hand on his hip, pondering his next move.

However, his thoughts were interrupted as the sound of a door creaking open could be heard from the floor above, causing him to tilt his head towards the second-floor stairs in alarm. Watching the opening wearily, Ethan cautiously reached over and picked up a rusty hammer from an old workbench to his left before slowly stepping forward.

The eerie silence followed him as he prepared to round the corner, listening intently for any sort of movement. After about a full minute, the man gripped onto his weapon tighter before placing his hand on the wall and peering around the edge of the corner.

The empty first half of the staircase greeted him, with the steps disappearing behind the second corner ahead. Seeing the lack of threat, Ethan clenched his teeth and tenderly placed his foot on the first steps, wincing at the sharp creak of the dry wood underneath his sole. He stilled on impact, listening out for a reaction.

When nothing came, he huffed while continuing upward until the door was back in his sights. Eyes wearily placed on the opening, he cautiously made his way up, the rough mumbles of what seemed to be shuffling and grunting just barely audible through the old, crusty walls.

Reaching the top, he made a passing glance at the staticky T.V. he had messed with earlier still resting on the shelf, before pausing right at the door sill. The sounds of metal rubbing together and old wood creaking painstakingly showing that someone else was obviously already in the room. Regardless, Ethan made his way in, noticing that a wall of boarded up shelves was blocking his view to the rest of the room’s interior on his left. He also noticed that the sounds were coming from the other side of the shelves.

Walking beside the shelves, the pathway turned a corner to the right, revealing overturned tables and other random strewn about technologies. But, most importantly, the boards and T.V’s on the racks had begun to space out, allowing an opening for him to see through. Bending down, he peered through the crack, scanning the dimly lit area on the other side. For the most part, the room was dark, save for a few T.Vs flickering between life and death, along with a sparking light fixture hanging from the ceiling.

Suddenly, the sickly face of a homeless man shot up into view from the other side of the shelf, his eyes bored into Ethan’s. As the bum heaved himself upward, the shelf next to the door tipped over, it’s top bashing into the wall and blocking the room’s sole exit. As this happened, Ethan turned to watch the bum skitter off to the left, hiding behind another shelf for safety.

With the threat now in hiding, he looked to his left and scanned the blockage, glossing over the scattered electronics and loose metal pipes. Noticing right away it would take time to remove the heavy object out of his way, he bent down and grabbed a stray rusty piece of rebar before stalking over to the other side of the room. Having his back turned to a potential danger wasn’t worth the risk, let alone not knowing if the other man had a weapon or not.

As Ethan steadily made his way to the direction of his enemy, he nearly paused when he heard something echo in his right ear, almost like a whisper, but without words. Before he could contemplate the sound however, the form of the burly homeless man jumped from behind his shelter, wielding a hefty piece of wood high above his head and ready to strike.

Reacting immediately, Ethan brought an arm up to protect his face as the other’s weapon crashed down on him. Gritting his teeth in pain as the wooden board made contact with his forearm, obviously creating a nasty bruise for later, Ethan twisted his wrist to grab the 2x4 and yanked it hard, tearing it from the bum’s hands in one fell swoop.

Surprised by this, the homeless man swung his fist up to hit Ethan, only widen his eyes in unquestionable pain when he felt a boot connect with his genitals, almost downing him in the process. Unfortunately, Ethan was far from done, as he quickly grabbed hold of the bum’s armpit and hoisted him back upward onto his feet.

With the bum staggering in pain, Ethan let go of his arm and cocked his right fist back and rocketed it straight into his enemies face, before immediately following up with his left fist, causing the bum to spew both teeth and blood onto the walls and floor. Landing on one knee, the bum looked up to see Ethan raise both of his fists up to the ceiling before crashing them down, and the bum’s vision went black.

Watching his foe with caution, Ethan raised an eyebrow before shuffling his foot over and bumping the other man’s limp leg. When no reaction came from him, he relaxed and began to turn back towards the fallen shelf, preparing to move it out of the door’s way.

Suddenly, all lights in the room flickered as a massive headache quickly overtook his brain, causing him to cry out in shock as he gripped his head in pain. The world seemed to spin while the muscles in his legs seemingly turned to jelly, nearly making him stumble onto the floor as he released a hand off his skull in order to steady himself. The headache soon turned to a poisonous fire, burning through his very nerves as harsh whispers clawed in the deepest corners of his ears, drowning out all other noise.

Fortunately, not all noise was lost to him, as what could faintly be the noise of cracking wood echoed off to his right, earning his attention.

Looking over, he saw nothing but the messed-up walls of the room, with hefty wooden boards blocking what had to be windows to the outside. About two seconds later, the sound of cracking wood once again echoed in the room, causing him to flinch momentarily. Through the whispers and the headache, he could barely make it out, but it sounded almost as if-

He thoughts were interrupted as one the boards covering a window busted into pieces, as the form of a man exploded through and rolled on the floor. The headache increased even further, and the whispers in his ears suddenly turned to a piercing ringing that sunk its teeth right in his eardrums.

As his brain was being attack, Ethan looked over to the man that had entered the room, who was starting to get up off the floor. Despite the massive strain and blurry vision, Ethan narrowed his eyes before charging at the man, reaching a hand out and grabbing the stranger by the throat and crashing them both into the wall.

With his elbow in the other’s throat, Ethan glared daggers at his enemy, before doing a double take. Through the light of the now open window, he was granted a better view of the stranger’s face, and what he saw could only be described as pure horror.

Though it was undoubtedly a homeless man’s face, his eyes were replaced with a black, tar like substance that driveled down his cheeks like tears. Ethan instinctively looked down and saw that the man’s lips were also smeared with tar, which dripped down his chin. While Ethan struggled to comprehend the state of the newcomer, his enemy seemed to glare at him before shoving Ethan off and pushing away from the wall.

Waving his hands to steady himself, Ethan quickly reached out and grabbed onto a shelf before he tripped over his own feet, only to feel two pairs of hands wrap tightly around his throat as the monstrous bum shook him violently.

Choking out in pain, Ethan desperately tried to pry the other man’s fingers off him, until deciding to resort to more offensive measures. Letting go of his enemy’s enclosed hands, he brought a fist up and pounded it into the other’s jaw, only for him to shrug it off without the slightest bit of pain. Widening his eyes in surprise, he quickly threw another punch, followed by a swift jab in the stomach with his exposed knee, and again the bum shrugged both hits like mere scratches.

The tightness on his windpipe increased with each throw, causing the world around him to begin to blacken. Growing worried, Ethan began to throw one punch after another, kicking and kneeing the shit out of the bum’s shins and stomach. Luckily, he noticed that his struggling had begun to take a toll on the stranger, as for a spit second, he flinched at a particularly rough swing and momentarily loosened his grip.

Acting fast, he immediately grabbed onto the bum’s enclosed fingers with his left hand and brought his right hand down to his side, before thrusting it upward and into one of the stranger’s elbows. Right on contact, the elbow snapped up in an unnatural angle, the loud crack indicating the destroyed bone and torn muscles. The bum thrusted his head up and screamed in anguish, only his voice was more on par with a person yelling underwater, as he threw himself off of Ethan and clutched his broken elbow.

Ethan rubbed his throat while the buzzing headache wavered allowing his brain to relax slightly. As his vision cleared back up, Ethan shook his head slightly before glaring ahead at the disgusting man before him, who had noticed Ethan get back up and let go of his broken arm to look at his enemy. The ghastly man gave a look of pure hate and began to muffle out incoherent words, almost like this mouth was full of tar. Without giving Ethan time to dwell on it, the crazed bum roared before charging like a mad bull, flailing and swinging his arms around in a flurry. Growling, Ethan brought an arm up and blocked a hit with his forearm, only to have a flying fist connect with his face.

He grit his teeth in pain before thrusting a hit on the crazed bum’s lower jaw, who muffled a grunt and followed up with a kick to his enemy’s hip. Huffing, Ethan took a step back, watching as the thug threw another fist his way. This time however, instead of blocking the hit, Ethan dodged the oncoming fist and grabbed the bum’s elbow, and forcefully pulled him forward. As he pulled the other man forward, he slipped his feet to the side and positioned himself behind the bum and shoved him to the ground with his shoulder. Squeaking in surprise, the crazed man fell to the floor with a thud before scrambling to get back on his feet.

His attempt was interrupted however, when Ethan jumped onto his back and wrapped one hand around the bum’s face with another on the back of his skull before twisting at lightning speed. The sickening snap of a broken vertebrae echoed throughout the room, and the mush mouthed bum went limp in Ethan’s hands.

Huffing out chunks of stale air and droplets of blood, Ethan stood still for a moment, his fallen enemy still in his hands, trying to understand what he had just witnessed.

He wasn’t given any time to process this, as the entire room began shaking, dust leaking through the cracks of the ceiling and shelves began to fall over. Amidst the chaos, the whirring sounds of propellers could be heard just outside, gaining his attention.

Looking to his left, he saw a bright light shine through the busted in window, before disappearing out of view. He widened his eyes before bolting over to the opening, pushing aside old electronics and an upward table in his way, and reached his destination. Peering out, the sight of the dirty, quiet outside city once again filling his view.

The whirring of propellers became louder than ever, shaking his vision and making his teeth rattle as he craned his neck to see the hulking form of a Metro Police helicopter morph from above him and slowly square itself with the alleyway below the building he was currently in. He raised an eyebrow in curiosity, what the hell were MPD doing here of all places? In order to get a better view, he extended his chest further out and placed a hand onto the window lamb, only to have it slip on some stray black tar left by the stranger from earlier.

He let out a grunt of surprise when he felt the weight of his upper torso pull the rest of his body downward, both his arms too awkward in position to do anything to stop his decent. However, the pain of falling down two stories nor the rushing sound of wind in his ears never seemed to come, confused, he looked and noticed that the palm he had outstretched to protect himself had planted firmly onto the hard wooden surface of a scaffolding just a few inches below, but more than high enough for a person to reach the boarded up windows of the second floor.

Taking a minute for his brain to register the situation, he quietly let out a sigh of relief, bringing his other arm out and placing it on the scaffolding before dragging the rest of his body out of the window. Once he was fully out, he stood up straight when then the spotlight of the police helicopter engulfed him, causing him to shield his eyes. He glared up at the aircraft, tempted to flip off the jackasses, but not before the spotlight quickly left him and moved to another spot on the street below.

Blinking rapidly to clear the dots in his vision, he shook his head and walked over to the edge to see what all the commotion was about. On the street below, he noticed that a portion was squared off by chicken wire, signaling the outer perimeter limits of his building’s backyard, and the spotlight was focused on something just beyond the fence, although it was difficult to tell what it was through the darkness.

However, through closer inspection he realized that the figure in the light was none other than Malcom Vanhorn himself, his hunched form hobbling across the fence much less like a human being and more like a brain-dead zombie.

Ignoring the sick feeling in his chest, Ethan cupped his mouth and shouted over the loud propellers.

“HEY WAIT!”

However, the older man seemed either not have heard nor listened to Ethan, as he continued lumbering down the road and out of sight. Seeing this, he huffed before desperately scrambling around the scaffolding, hoping to find a ladder of some sorts. At one point, he finally found one further on the left and immediately bent over to climb down, his pace quick and anxious.

Once his feet reached the ground, he bolted over to the fence and scanned for the exit, easily finding it in the right corner next to an old dishwasher. Walking over to it, he noticed that though it was unlocked, the other side was blocked by dozens of barrels full of garbage. In all honesty, it didn’t seem that difficult to push through, heck he could just make a big enough gap to fit in.

However, his thoughts were interrupted as he felt something tight grab one of his wrists and pull him backwards, causing him to yelp in pain as he nearly fell to the floor. Confused, he turned his head to see a pissed off Rottweiler clenching his wrist in its jaws, its feral beady eye glaring holes into his skull. Growling, Ethan tried to yank his arm closer to his chest to free himself, but the mutt held fast and pulled back with an even stronger grip, a throaty snarl escaping it. By this time, Ethan could feel the warm trickles of blood leaking through the gauze wrap on his hands, as the canine’s teeth dug deeper into his skin.

Tired of this Ethan, reached his free palm over and laced his fingers on the dog’s upper jaw, and without warning shoved it to the side, the painful crunch filling his ears as the dog let out one final whimper before falling to the ground, dead.

Placing a hand on his wounded wrist, he rubbed the punctured skin softly and flicked it to ease the pain and turned his attention back to the gate. He placed his hands on the chicken wire and pushed as best he could, his force scooting the heavy barrels slowly but surely; He wasn’t prepared for one of the barrels to fall over with a broken radio spilling out of the top and crashing onto a convenient puddle of oil, the sparks in the mechanical device igniting the puddle into flames almost instantly, leading to a trail back to the other barrels next to the gate. Noticing the flames reaching the flammable objects, Ethan stepped away from the fence as the barrels began to ignite one by one, until ultimately exploding into fragmented sharp pieces of useless metal.

With the debris out of the way, the gate door limply opened for a safe passage through, which he gladly accepted.

Exiting the fenced perimeter, he looked down and noticed Vanhorn had once again vanished without a single trace; However, the sick feeling in his chest burned just the same as the smell of sulfur and tar dug into his sinuses. The once pristine white snow around him (still falling in its unnaturally slow way) was now pure black in color, giving him half the mind to think of it as ash.

The gigantic helicopter above him started to move in a straight line through the alley with its spotlight swinging from building to building, as a staticky and unnervingly frantic voice shouted from the copter’s intercom.

“Residents! This is not a drill! Find safety indoors immediately, do NOT remain on the streets! I repeat, return to your homes and lock the doors!”

He huffed out a dry chuckle, it wasn’t the worst idea. Its warning said and done, the helicopter turned off its light and continued forward until disappearing beyond the rooftops ahead.

Thoroughly confused, Ethan flexed his fingers before pressing on, taking a passing glance at his surroundings. Now that he was actually looking, the sides of the towering building around him seemed more decrepit than ever, with clear signs of vulgar vandalism and lack of care showing like a split thumb. Granted he was in a filthy and crime ridden part of the city, not the queen’s castle. But still, he’d been all around Metro city, and things never appeared this bad.

Had the riots really made this big of a dent in society?

Suddenly, a flicker of movement caught his eye as he neared the corner of the alley, with a large, vacant spot settled in the road. Save for a strange looking black mass underneath a lone streetlamp, most probably trash bags. The inner workings of another headache began to crawl back into his brain, his vision blurring at the edges as he calmed his pace, weary for whatever was setting him off.

Without warning, once he was merely 15 feet away, the supposed “pile of trash bags” broke off into three lanky looking creatures the size of children, scattering like scared cockroaches into the dark corners of the alley.

Watching them, Ethan froze like a statue, unsure of what to do. Should he continue, or find another way?

He turned his head to look behind him, noticing that beyond the building he’d exited, the alley was blocked off by another tower, giving him no alternative exit whatsoever. Silently groaning, he rolled his shoulders back and stomped forward, keeping a watchful eye on the shadows.

Reaching the open area, he held his breath as his eyes laid on what the small creatures were hunched over for. On the ground lay the corpse of a woman, her stomach and chest split wide open for all the world to see, her face giving an expression of pure horror and torment as her eyes and mouth replaced with tar, just like the crazed bum he’d fought earlier. Instead of crimson blood greeting his sight, her entire insides were nothing but tar as well, her inner organs and exposed ribcage coated in the slimy substance as the smell of bile wafted through the stale air.

Clenching his nose in disgust, Ethan spared one last glance at the woman before looking to his right, noticing a large portion of the street was blocked off by abandoned, stacked cars. The sound of familiar ringing could be heard too, as he also noticed another flickering T.V. placed in a shattered window.

Walking over to it, he once again saw the two antennas on the top, and immediately reached his hand through the massive hole in the glass to grab them. Twisting his wrist, the static flickered out and he saw the ugly masked face of the stranger, his sickly voice almost mocking him.

Birds are attracted to these sonic devices, but unfortunately their pretty little brains can’t handle the powerful wavelengths. The brain swells, the skull fractures, and then…pop. A lot of dead birds means a device is nearby.

As he spoke, the face of the man moved further and further from the screen as Ethan was met with the sight of the inner workings of the sonic device, before the camera panned out to view a black crow hovering near the evil tool, until out if nowhere, the animal’s head exploded into fleshy pieces of meat/bone and the body dropped to the bottom of the screen.

The static overcame the television, ending the message as Ethan released the antennas, stepped away from the window and continued his stroll, the ringing of the device growing closer with each step.

As he walked, he couldn’t help but notice that black tar had begun to grow on the sides of the buildings the further he went. It seemed to ooze off from the far rooftops and slink down like moss, while some of it dripped from open windows and cracks in the concrete. The squelching in his steps also signified that the black substance was also covering large portions of the ground too, like puddles of rainwater.

The headache grew as the ringing got closer, signaling he was near next to it. He took another step forward, only to feel something bulky underneath his sole, like he was standing on small, frail bones. Lifting his leg, he peered down and saw a small crow laying lifeless on the floor, with closer inspection showing its head was missing.

Quirking his lips, he began to notice that the ground had become littered with dead crows, their bodies reaching double digits, and all centered around a wall. His eyes cast away from the birds and trailed up the brick, going further and further up until he finally saw it.

The reddish-brown disk sat glued to the side of a building, the device shrieking with its noticeable invisible weight crashing on his skull once more. Ignoring the pain, he glared at the far up disk, clearly too far up for him to reach. Stepping back to ease the ache in his neck, he nearly tripped when his foot slipped on a stray dead bird and backed into a car. Placing a hand down, he felt his palm touch the car’s side view mirror, giving him a moment to pause and think.

A lightbulb went off in his brain as he quickly turned around and peered at the mirror. It seemed thick enough, and its hinges were near rusted off from decay, so it shouldn’t be too much of a hassle to-

POP!

Ripping it from the clutches of the car, Ethan tore the mirror off before cocking his hand back, aiming with precise, and thrusted it upward towards the rustic disk. As before, upon immediate contact, the disk shattered to pieces once the mirror connected, causing the ringing to cease and the weight to lift.

Once he saw the device shatter, Ethan instantly felt a wave of relief wash over him, letting out a small sigh before turning on his heel and continuing his trek. The street was filled with strewn trash and empty cars, nearly making it a hassle to get through, until he finally came to a stop upon seeing that his route was blocked by a cluster of cars, dumpsters and a massive bus placed horizontally in between two buildings.

Crossing his arms in annoyance, he glared at the blockage in front of him, debating whether or not he should climb over it or not. It might have been feasible, if some of the cars’ interiors weren’t currently caught on fire, probably left over by homeless people to keep themselves warm. He turned his head from left to right, even if he couldn’t go straight, there had to be some other route he could use.

His search ended when he saw to his right an open garage with its pathway leading further left, possibly to a way around the rubble. He walked over to the open space, noticing the absence of the owner’s vehicle, before turning left and seeing a short hall ending with a busted down door.

Peeking a cautious eye behind him, he strolled down the corridor before halting in his tracks once reaching the exit. The opening led to the neighboring building’s back door, but what really caught his attention was the entire brick wall surrounding it was coated in black tar.

He took a deep breath to stimulate his nerves before fully emerging from the garage exit, when a loud crash nearly made him jump out of his skin. Whipping his head to the right, he noticed a small fence in between the buildings and beyond it, the form of another one of those creatures scamper off into the darkness. Once the scraggily monster was out of sight, Ethan brought a hand to his forehead and growled.

“Jesus Fuck.”

Sighing, he looked back up at the building before him, noticing that unlike the others, the black tar seemed to cover the entire structure as far as the eye could see, the grey brick underneath barely even visible.

The sick feeling and nauseating headache he was experiencing seemed to increase, almost like in some sick way, he was being beckoned by the other side of the door.

Prepared for anything, he reached out and thrusted it open, only to be met with a cubed storage room, with one door in front of him leading to the breaker room (as evidence by the warning sticker) and another door just to his left leading to what could be the outside.

With no alternative, Ethan walked to the left and twisted the handle, opening it up to see the alley once again. If he could even call it that.

In front of him stood the opening of a building, from closer inspection it being a veteran’s hospital, with a metal gate blocking the entrance and black tar oozing off the sides and roof. Beyond it, the hunched form of Vanhorn stood before the hospital door as the helicopter from earlier shone its spotlight on the old man.

Seeing this, Ethan stepped out from the exit and rushed over to the gate, grabbing the bars as he shouted out for his 'ally'.

“Vanhorn!” he yelled as best he could, “Hold up! I wanna talk to you!”

Again, either not listening or not hearing, Malcom ignored the younger man and instead shoved the door open and staggered into the hospital, closing it behind him with a click. Seeing the straightforward approach ultimately fail, Ethan looked to his right to see the stairs leading up to the doors blocked by dumpsters, giving him no way to enter the building the easy way. Looks like he’d have to find a new way inside.

Turning to the right, he walked alongside the building’s front, all the while taking in the new scenery. To his horror, tar had now coated almost everything in sight, the surrounding buildings covered top to bottom with massive globs the size of small cars dripping like paint of a bucket onto the street. He walked past one, eyeing it in suspicion before ultimately noticing the form of a black creature peering its head and an outstretched arm out of the ooze, its features indescribable due to the amount of tar around it. Raising his fists up in defense, he glared at the creature and waited for it to jump out at him. However, after a few awkward moments, he lowered his guard upon realizing that the strange little imp appeared still as a statue, almost like he was frozen in time.

Wearily, he reached over and flicked the creatures head, which gained no reaction. Seeing no threat, Ethan cautiously took a step back before moving ahead down the road, noticing the alleyway cut left ahead. As he walked forward, the sounds of rustling caught his attention as the form of an armed bum jumped from beyond the corner of the hospital and bolted towards cover behind a dumpster, right in front of Ethan.

Quirking an unamused eyebrow at the thug’s lack of stealth, Ethan stomped towards the dumpster, not bothering to quiet his steps as the amounts of tar on the ground halted any excuse for silence. Once he was mere 7 feet from the metal bin, he raised his fists as the bum jumped out from cover with a scream and swung down a metal pipe onto Ethan with all his might.

To counter this attack, Ethan brought his forearms together and pushed the hit back, causing the bum to stagger back in surprise, giving the other man time to bring a boot to his stomach. However, before Ethan could throw another hit, he stopped himself upon fully seeing the bum.

Like the crazed lunatic from the T.V. store, this bum’s eyes and mouth leaked black ooze like a deranged demon, but what stood him out from the other was the fact that his entire body was also completely covered, as if he took a damn bath in the shit.

And just like before, the thug let out a garbled scream as he charged at Ethan, pipe flailing. Faster than the bum could reach, Ethan hunched down and shoved his shoulder into the lunatic’s chest, following up with a hefty swing of his fist into the bum’s nose. Instead of blood, black tar splattered onto Ethan’s face as the bum roared in agony, before grabbing his enemy’s shirt by the collar and headbutting straight into Ethan’s forehead.

Ethan saw stars as he quickly pushed his enemy away from him, his vision blurred and dizzy. With his state vulnerable, the bum howled as he barreled into Ethan’s chest, sending the stunned man flying to the ground. Yelping in pain once his back connected with the pavement, Ethan placed an arm onto the ground and hoisted his chest up, just in time to see the thug’s boot connect with his ribcage. Groaning, he dropped back down to the ground as the bum lifted his weapon high over his head, ready to strike down the injured man.

Fortunately, Ethan was prepared this time, as he quickly lifted his leg and slammed his boot heel into the other’s knee, making the lunatic cry out in shock as his leg buckled and he fell to the ground. Scrambling, Ethan hopped onto the bum, noticing the tar coated man had begun to lift his head up, which he followed up with a quick punch to the temple, before he reached for the metal pipe still clutched in the other man’s hand.

Once he grabbed hold of it, the bum shrieked in defiance and tried to yank his prized weapon away from Ethan, who simply replied with another punch to his jaw. Prying his iron fingers off the metal, Ethan finally managed to wrestle the pipe away and nearly tripped over himself as he scampered back to his feet. The bum jumped up and roared, only to be interrupted by a swinging pipe, followed by a kick to the shin and another even heavier swing from the metal weapon.

With each hit, the crazed thug seemed to get more and more agitated, as evidence by him following up with a counter swing, missing merely inches every time. Sidestepping another loose swing, Ethan brought his hand back and instead of hitting the other man in the head, aimed for the legs, feeling the pipe vibrate upon contact with the other’s knee bone.

The thug stumbled to the ground, clutching his knee in pain while looking up to glare at the man before him.

Wasting no time, Ethan grabbed the bum by the hair, feeling the slicky tar on his scalp, and swung with a yell straight into the lunatic’s throat. A choked gag erupted from the monstrous man’s maw, before the force of the hit rocketed him to the floor.

His enemy finally incapacitated; Ethan growled as he rubbed his sore ribs. Even though he was once again alone, something still felt off, like he was being watched from every corner. He needed to keep moving.

Fiddling with the pipe now clutched in his hands, he turned the corner to see a wooden gate blocking the rest of the way through. Slowly making his way over, he scanned the fence with a keen eye, noticing that the wood was old, but still quite sturdy. Seeing a thick enough space through the boards to slip his fingers through, he pushed aside a heavy barrel standing in his way as he began to pry open a bit enough space, not realizing that when the barrel he’d shoved hit the ground, its top lid busted open, spilling gallons of gasoline onto the tar filled pavement.

The gasoline flowed like a stream down the brick road, still completely unnoticed by the sole occupant of the alley, as it made its way towards an ignited, stranded car just meters away.

Ethan huffed when he finally managed to pull apart a gap through the fence, its seemingly aged wooden pickets tough than they looked, when he heard igniting fire spark from behind him. Turning around, he widened his eyes when he saw a trail gasoline leading to a car with its motor on fire, and a new stream flames leaking from the vehicle and following the gasoline trail right towards his direction.

He peered at the barrel besides his shoes before putting two and two together, and immediately bolted away from the fence as the fire trail whisked past him before it reached the barrel. Getting as far away from the potential hazard as possible, he skidded to a stop as the flames crawled into the broken barrel’s opening.

In seconds the container was engulfed in fire, its flames melting through the rusted metal with ease before its attention seemed to shift towards the wooden fence next to it. He watched as the flames inched up the wooden fence, causing a good portion of the alley to light up from the increasing fire. Clenching his nose from the decaying smell of burning tar and gasoline, he took another step back when the gasoline inside the barrel popped, before the strain of the increased pressure pushed out with enough force to cause the barrel to explode in a fiery mass, sending debris sky high.

Covering his face with his forearm, as stray pieces of metal and debris bumped into his protecting arm and chest, he waited for the erupt explosion to calm down before looking at the damage.

During the explosion, the shockwave had not only completely obliterated the barrel, but had also made his job a hell of a lot easier by knocking the fence post straight out of the ground and shredding the wood to near splinters on the pavement, leaving a nice big entrance for him.

Satisfied with the welcomed turn of events, he began walking towards the opening, picking up his pace the closer he got. The unnerving feeling of unease still continued to drift in the air around him, making it difficult to resist the urge to twist around scan the area once more for signs of a threat. Passing the destroyed fence once blocking his path, he looked to his left at the veteran hospital while trying to find some other door.

He also noticed that the supposed black tar had become much thicker on this side of the alley, with long and slimy strips of it stretching from building to building, oily vines replacing normal city clotheslines.

Fortunately, ahead of him at one of the hospital’s corners stood a two-story scaffolding, possibly leading to an open or burstable window he could find.

Suddenly, a chill raced down his back when he heard something shuffling through what could only be a thick liquid from behind him. He turned around as the form of one of those small, little creatures clawed its way out of a massive glob of tar residing alongside the broken fence.

A similar sound could also be heard ahead f him, as another creature tore through from its tar prison and scurried like a vulture towards Ethan like a rabid animal. Seeing both ways blocked, he cracked his knuckles and charged at the small monster in front of him as it pounced, before stretching out his arm and catching it by the throat midair. The creature shrieked in surprise and fury as it brought up its bony, pencil thin arms to claw wildly at Ethan’s exposed forearm, making him wince when the knifelike nails drew blood.

Before he could do anything else to the monster in his grasp, he felt a weight slam into his back as the other creature from behind pounced onto him, sinking its claws through his shirt and shoulder blades.

Howling out in pain, Ethan stumbled as one creature tore into his back and the other clawed at his arm. Though overwhelmed with pain, he managed to hoist the captive monster high in the air before slamming it to the concrete with all the force he had. To his utter shock however, as soon as the monster met the hard ground it splattered like a water balloon, exploding into a useless, nasty mess of tar in his fingers.

He didn’t have time to dwell on this though, as the creature on his back slashed the back of his head and nearly sent him to the floor. Wincing, he lifted his body up before kicking his feet backwards and rocketing his back into the wall of the alley, the tar monster squishing to pieces due to the crushing force of both the brick and the brawny man’s weight.

Feeling the wetness of the creature’s innards soak into his shirt, Ethan fell to his knees in pain while gasping for air, the claw marks on his back burning like fire in his muscles. He coughed into a fist before pulling himself up, glaring at the scaffolding now in front of him.

He needed answers, and Vanhorn was the one who had them, he was tired of these distractions. Rubbing his sore arm, he trudged towards the ladder and climbed up it at a quick pace, instantly noticing the poor state of the scaffolding’s condition as the plywood underneath his shoes groaned in protest.

Scoffing, he cautiously followed the scaffolding’s path as it turned right, leading to the backyard of the hospital. Once he turned the corner, he was only a couple feet from the end of the path leading to another ladder when the wood below him cracked, making him pause for a moment. A poor decision, he widened his eyes as the plywood snapped in half and sent him falling through the board, landing ass first on the concrete floor.

Gritting his teeth in annoyance, he placed his palm onto the ground and hoisted himself up, glowering at the broken scaffolding above him before pressing on. He’d made it far enough passed the gate blocking off the backyard, so all he had to do was take another right turn as evidence by his path ahead. Crossing by a fenced off portion, he jumped when something bulky slammed into the locked gate beside him, only to calm down slightly when he saw the form of a stray dog paw at him from behind the chicken wire. He raised an eyebrow as the mutt desperately tried to claw its way through the fence and snarling when it realized it couldn’t reach its “prey”, then its ears pricked up and whipped around. Apparently it had sensed something else as it seemingly forgot Ethan’s existence and bolted down the alley, barking its head off as it disappeared into the dark.

Shaking his head, the man sighed before he continued, reaching the corner and turning right to an even tighter space in-between the hospital and its neighboring building. The sick feeling in his chest grew as black tar surrounded him, almost making it claustrophobic as he made his way down the narrow alley. He kept his sights locked on the walls around him as he made his way around the building, before eventually turning another corner and finding himself at the front doorstep of the hospital where Vanhorn had entered just moments ago.

He approached the door with caution and turned the handle and to no one’s surprise, he found that the door was locked from the inside, possibly by Vanhorn. He released the handle and scanned the area for an alternate route. He’d seen no other doors leading into the building on his way to the front, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t any other way inside.

His search ended when his eyes eventually looked upward and saw what looked to be a fixed ladder clinging to the side of the building. The ladder was contained inside the interior of the metal wall mount, with nothing but a latch keeping it in and upon further inspection, he realized that the latch was in fact rather old, with the hook rusted beyond repair. All it needed was a little nudge to loosen it.

Grabbing a stray brick off the tar filled floor, he cocked it back and thrusted it at towards the latch. The brick hit its mark, breaking the old hook to pieces as the ladder burst out, reaching more than halfway down the side of the wall.

Not bothered by this, Ethan walked over to the ladder, bending his knees and jumped up to grab the bottom bar with both of his hands. Once he managed to grab hold of the bar, he placed his feet onto the wall and began to hoist his weight up, climbing up the ladder with a quickened pace. Luckily for him, though tar had coated the entire hospital exterior he found that none had spilled onto the ladder, making it all the less difficult to shimmy his way up the side of the building in record speed.

Reaching the top in record speed, he pulled hopped up off the edge and stood to his full height, scanning the roof for a door or even another ladder. He noticed that the roofs he was on wasn’t the top of the building, with the hospital sprouting upward just ahead of him. On his right was a whirring air conditioner, while to his left the roof ended giving him full view of the giant oozy skyscrapers surrounding the area. It was surreal, seeing the once proud buildings of Metro City seeming so decayed and violated by something so unnatural.

There were no exists that he could see so far, but that didn’t stop him from noticing the big orange locker on the other side of the roof next to the air conditioner. Pursing his lips, he trudged his way around the air van to the locker, interested in the out of place box. Once he reached it he grabbed the handle and pulled it open to see a handful of spare pipes, a first aid kit, and a couple other stray hospital supplies.

What caught his attention the most was the medical kit. Placing his hand inside, he dug through the other supplies in his way before pulling out the red bag and placing it on the conditioner next to him, unzipping it and popping up the top. Medical supplies of all kind greeted him, from medical syringes, to antibiotic cream, to band aids. His eyes automatically found the small antibiotic ointment and gauze wraps, which he pulled out almost instantly.

Dipping his fingers into the jar, he growled when spreading the ointment across the deep claw marks in his arms before wrapping the wounds up with the brown cloth and tossing the cream back into the box. With his injuries protected, he looked around the remaining rooftop until his eyes landed on a stack of wooden pallets scattered across the grainy floor. Now that in itself wouldn’t be of any interest to him, were it not for what looked to be a hole in the roof peaking out from underneath the pile of pallets, giving him a glimpse of the interior building’s lights.

His hopes increasing, he abandoned the health kit and rushed over to the pallets, grabbed the hefty wood and lifted it with a grunt, giving him a full view of the even bigger gaping hole through the ceiling and the inside floor below.

Pushing the pallets to the side, some of them falling off the edge entirely, he bent down before placing his palm onto the perimeter of the hole and thrusting his legs in, the force pulling the rest of his body downward into the interior hospital.

Landing onto the hard tile floor with a thud, he buckled his knees on impact before rising, immediately caught off guard by the thick scent of blood and dysentery. Yep, this definitely was a veteran’s hospital.

The place was scattered with giant filing cabinets, overturned tables, and stretchers, making it all the more difficult to find a way around. To his right, giant shelves towered above while to his left was the perimeter wall, overall limiting his view to what was only in front and behind him. With no other alternative path, he turned around and noticed a cleared route that turned left through the random junk.

He stepped other the litter, thankful for the twitching ceiling lamp allowing him a somewhat decent view of the area so he wouldn’t trip. Turning the corner, he was met with a nice clear path to the double doors leading out of the room, while to his left he could see the rest of the littered room with another set of double doors at the other end. deciding to check the set of doors closest to him, he looked forward when his vision began to blur, clutching his fists when the headache flared back up. A wheelchair scooted on its own from behind a decrepit shelf as a thousand voices whispered out to him all at once.

He shook his head violently, trying to rid himself of the unwelcomed voices.

“Shut up damn it.”

He ground out, ignorant to the form of another one of the lanky tar creatures hobble from its hiding place and escape through the doors straight ahead of Ethan.

The voices seemed to calm down after a few seconds, leaving him clutching his head in pain until his vision resurfaced. Blinking rapidly, he shook his head one more to clear himself until he felt he was ready to press on. Once the blurred vision and the dizziness subsided, he clenched his fists before strolling forward, keeping his attention on his surroundings while he made his way out the double doors. He then found himself inside a hallway full of stretchers with a big iron bar door at the end leading to a smaller room with what seemed to be stairs behind a glass window, which he hurried over to without missing a beat.

Several moments he nearly stopped when he saw something shift out of the corner of his eyes but forced himself to ignore the impulse to look around him.

This wasn’t real, those creatures weren’t real, but Malcom Vanhorn was, and he needed to find him before something bad happened.

When Ethan reached the end, he let out a barely contained groan when he saw that the door he was trying to access through had a metal lock the size of his arm blocking any entrance. One tug on the bars proved that a forced entry would be impossible and as far as he could tell there were no other possible routes.

Resting an arm over the bars, he put his hand on his hips and thought. The metal door, though looking like what you’d see guarding an old-fashioned prison cell, had wires and other electronic devices attached to its edges as well as the surrounding walls. With closer inspection, the lock was fully mechanical too, which meant there had to be controls to open it somewhere the patients couldn’t get to. So, all he needed to do was find a…

There! Right next to the door on the opposite side was a glass window with what looked to be a set of computers/controls hooked to the wall, hopefully for the door lock.

Actually, now that he thought about it, he remembered the other set of double doors in the previous room where he’d originally entered. Perhaps those were the doors leading to the control room. Pushing off the iron door he turned on his heel and bolted back down the corridor, pushing past the random stretchers in his way before making it back to the massive littered room.

Looking to his right, he immediately saw the double doors at the far end of the room, just barely obscured by a row of shelves stacked of medical supplies. Picking up his pace, he made his way over to his destination, though finding it hard when having to step over and maneuver his way around the scattered miscellaneous, trying his best to ignore the moving shadows.

Reaching the doors, he thrusted a hand outward and shoved one open, greeted with what had to be an employee area what with the long customer service counter in front of him, littered with computers and paper files. Walking out from the open door, he saw a stand with a flickering small T.V in front of the service counter while to his right was an even smaller room with a giant windowpane, and beyond it looked to be the hallway the locked iron door was in.

However, before he decided to explore the control room, he instead focused his attention on the staticky television sitting on the utensil tray. Instantly noticing the long antennas sprouting from the top, he quickly deduced it must’ve been yet another message. Hopping over the counter, he made his way over to the small screen and clutched the probes before twisting them to the side, trying to find the signal.

After a few tries the static began to fade and the doll masked stranger poked his head from the darkness, glaring at Ethan in hatred.

“Think about it, asshole!” The stranger spat, before the screen shifted to look at another occupant on the T.V. one Ethan knew all too well. “If something happens to him, if Malcom Vanhorn dies, you’re on your own. You’ll be left to discover the answers on your own.” He watched as the cleaner, more healthier looking version of Malcom widen his eyes as he was sucked into a sea of black tar, almost like quicksand. The old man thrusting his hands out in a sign of desperation before succumbing to the dark pit off ooze like a rock in a pool. “Find him before it’s too late. Don’t let anger cost you your greatest ally.”

The message abruptly cut off, with the static covering the screen once more. He let go of the antennas, down casting his eyes onto the electronic device while his brain mulled over the information. Malcom had ruined his life, used him like a puppet for his own selfish needs and yet had the gall to talk to him like Ethan was the crazy one. What he wouldn’t do to get his hands onto that man’s throat.

He sighed before shaking his head, if he was going to get answers than grudges would have to wait. Right now, all he needed to do was find the old bastard, and that in itself was already taxing enough what with all these distractions in his way. Huffing, he left the mechanical device and headed over to the control room, moving around the counter while shoving aside a rolling chair in his way.

Inside the room was a locked door to his right and a wall hanging control box with a lever to his left, which had a stream of wires growing out of the top and climbed all the way to the ceiling, disappearing beyond a small hole. Next to the box was a bright yellow sticker that read: Right wing gate. Open with caution.

Without hesitation he flipped the switch to off. Cutting the electricity out of the door’s lock and releasing it. He could hear the sound of the lock opening from outside the window, followed by an immense giggling.

Suddenly, he saw the iron gate swing open as three to four bums hobbled out from behind it, each foaming the greasy tar from their mouths and holding weapons of all sorts. One of them seemed to notice Ethan from behind the window and jumped onto the glass, pressing his face against the window and smearing tar all over it. The bum looked at Ethan with his deathly black eyes before jumping away and following his other buddies down the hall.

Undeterred by this, Ethan let go of the level and turned to walk out of the room, eyes scanning the double doors he had entered through. When he saw no one bust through and outright attack him, he looked around to search for any way to defend himself.

His eyes suddenly landed on a large prosthetic arm resting on a shelf next to him, which he grabbed thankfully. Slowey making his way towards the open doors, he peeked around to peer inside the large littered room for any signs of the enemy. The other set of double doors on the other side of the room remained open, and no forms, human or otherwise, made their way through.

He couldn’t hear the sounds of giggling anymore, but that did little to ease his worry.

Inching his way out of the exit, he glared around him as he scooted himself towards the exit, weary of the potential hiding places the thugs could be in. All was silent in the room, save for the flickering lamps clinging to the ceiling, while he made his way forward, trying his best to keep his breathing shallow should it alert the enemy.

The silence was soon shattered when he felt a flying wrench connect with his spine, causing him to yelp out in pain before whipping around to confront the attacker. However, to his surprise all he saw was scattered littler, with no enemy in sight. He scanned the room frantically, trying to see where the thug could be hiding. Unfortunately, nothing out of the ordinary popped up.

Rolling his shoulders, he peered down at the wrench that had assaulted him, which now laid idle on the floor. Looking back up, he tried once more to search for the thug that had thrown it, but still could not see anything through the trash. Just to be sure, he shuffled his foot and kicked the weapon to the side, sending it sliding underneath a bookshelf before cautiously turning back towards his destination.

Sidestepping through the doors, he peeked once more out into the room before closing the both of them with a slam, grabbing a spare pipe from the floor and wrenching it in between the doors’ handles, blocking anyone’s access from the other side. Once he was sure the double doors were secured, he resisted the sigh of relief and made his way back down the hall, which he happily noticed that the iron gate was now fully open.

BAM!

He barely had time to react when a thug appeared out of seemingly thin air right before his eyes and slammed a pipe right into his face. Doubling over in shock, he scrambled back to his feet and raised his own weapon in alarm, only to find the thug gone.

Huffing out breathes of air, he darted his eyes back and forth to where the bum might’ve gone, but nothing except abandoned stretchers met his gaze, and any signs of a burly thug had all but vanished. Bringing the prosthetic arm to a defensive position, he stepped towards the open gate with a much more focused demeanor, this time checking any and all shadows or corners he could see.

Reaching the gate, he walked through with extra caution, looking ahead at the new room he had found himself in. Inside the room were three doors, two of which were blocked by overturned shelves and one opened wide to a set of stairs leading downward to the lower floors. Seeing his only option, Ethan scooted closer to the only available exit, keeping out a keen ear for trouble.

He only stopped when the sounds of rushed footsteps could be heard from behind him, alongside what had to be someone overturning stretchers and yelling out a garbled roar.

Fuck this! He nearly shouted before bolting through the open door and slamming it behind him with a click. As soon as he did so, something hard rammed into the locked door, causing it to rattle and shake.

He clutched his weapon tightly while slowly backing down the stairs away from the door, as the bashing continued. Miraculously, the door seemed to withstand the attacks and held firm, until whatever was on the other side seemed to give up shortly after and all was once again silent.

Now locked out on the staircase, Ethan turned to look down over the railing to check the exact number of floors. To his horror, instead of seeing a far-off floor in the distance, below all he could see was blackness, with the stairs running down for miles. He nearly brought his weapon up to drop it down but stopped himself before he could do so. Something told him he’d need the weapon for later.

Without any other choice, he brought the weapon back to his sides and trudged down the stairs in an easy yet cautious pace. Making his way down, he felt the air grow colder with every floor he passed, like he was being sucked into a dark freezer of no return.

After a few more minutes of walking, he’d reached about three levels down when he heard flapping coming from the lower floors, followed by a nauseating headache. Against his better judgement, he peered his head over the rail, only to fly back when a whole group of black crows exploded from the darkness below, flying upward back towards the ceiling in a flurry of caws and shrieks. Watching the crazed animals in both confusion and wonder, it took him a while to realize that his heart was beating like a drum, thrumming in his ribcage with every second.

Placing his hand on his chest, he breathed in and out to relieve the stress in his heart, hoping it would calm him down. However, his heart seemed to ignore his request and continued to beat even louder, almost to the point where he felt it hit his back.

Wait. That wasn’t right. The thumping continued, each hit sending a vibration on his shoulder blade. Confused by this, Ethan let go of his heart and listened to the sound, starting to piece together that it started to seem less like a heartbeat and more like someone knocking. Sweat dripped from his forehead before he slowly turned, only to fall speechless at what he found.

You see, in his earlier shock Ethan had unknowingly pressed his back into a window to another store, and as he sat up from the window, he turned around to see none other than Vanhorn pressing his body against the glass and banging his fist against it with all his might, his face still oozing tar from the eyes and mouth as his face contorted into a twisted expression of fear.

Ethan gawked at his old friend as the older man continued to stare pleadingly into the younger’s eyes, the raps of his fist on the glass causing it to crack from the extensive force.

“Malcom…” Ethan muttered. “W-what’s happened to you?”

Suddenly, Vanhorn pushed away from the glass and shook his head frantically as though he was having a spasm attack, before a pair of slender and spindly arms latched around the elder’s throat and pushed him headfirst into the glass. Ethan brought a hand up to cover himself as the window shattered to pieces on impact before whatever had ahold of Malcom dragged him to the floor, the both of them disappearing into the tar.

As he watched this happen, Ethan shouted out for his father’s friend and almost dove through the window after him but stopped when he realized that the entire room was literally filled to the brim with the dark substance. To go in seemed like a trap, and one he wasn’t sure he’d get out of.

He took this time to look around at his surroundings. Then again, with the situation he was currently in, did he really have much of a choice?

Lifting his leg up, he hoisted it over the windowpane and placed his foot down to the ground, expected his shoe to sink at least knee deep in the stuff. Only to find when his boot hit the tar covered floor, it was felt of solid ground. He quirked an eyebrow while stomping on the floor, trying to see if this was some kind of trick. When nothing happened, he pulled his other leg though and stepped into the area, immediately regretting his decision.

The room, or whatever it was supposed to represent, seemed to be shredded to pieces with black ooze leaking from the ceiling and onto the floor, the dark tar seeming to move on its own up the walls and across the floor like a stream the closer with closer inspection. This gave the place an eerie, almost cave like appearance. Everywhere he looked was coated, with vines of the oily stuff etching from shelf to shelf, pillar to pillar, like a disease spreading to anything and everything it touched.

Moving forwards, he gripped the prosthetic arm tighter as his vision began to blur and fizz, before he turned a corner into yet another large room, this one somewhat representing a waiting area for potential visitors.

As his headache worsened, he strode towards what looked to be light coming from the right side of the room, which was obscured by a corner. He only took five steps before he felt slick tar spray on his head on into his hair as the face of an upside-down tar monster exploded into his face and grabbed his neck, screaming at the top of its lungs.

Gurgling in surprise, Ethan grabbed the little monster by the arms and tugged him down from the ceiling in hopes of grounding him. His tactic worked better then he had realized, because when he pulled the creature down, it fell to the floor and exploded into splatters of tar.

Looking at his feet Ethan stood still, unsure of what to do. His mulling was interrupted when out of the corner of his eyes he saw another creature stumble from behind a corner, heading straight for him. He instinctively raised his weapon, prepared to strike in case the monster started running. However, the creature did not run, in fact, it did the exact opposite.

With an arm extended outward, the small monster walked ever so calmly towards Ethan’s direction, its stance and demeaner akin to a blind person. He watched as it inched closer and closer to him, with its arm still out and face unreadable, before he cocked his weapon back and swung it into the monster’s temple. Right on impact, the creature burst like a filled balloon, killing it instantly as the prosthetic arm flew through it like it was nothing.

He drew his weapon back to his side in thought; As intimidating as the little creatures were, it didn’t take a whole lot to kill them did it?

He also noticed that the creature wasn’t the only other occupant in the room, sprouting from the tar covered ceiling were what appeared to be brown sacks, almost akin to cocoons. Bringing his weapon up, he tossed the fake arm at a sack right in front of him, watching as the inner tar exploded out once the sack broke, followed by the form of a creature falling out and landing on the ground dead.

So, the creatures were in the sacks too? He recounted the attack just moments ago, deducing he must’ve stepped underneath one and triggered the hibernating creature. Scanning the top, he saw two more sacks he would’ve walked right under in order to get to a large hole in the wall, leading to a small hallway with an active ceiling lamp.

Walking over to pick up his weapon he looked upward and tossed the arm as best he could at the next sack over, careful not to back up into a sack just behind him, getting the same result when the arm hit its target. This time however, when the arm hit the sack, instead of bouncing off it flew right through the oily object and bounced off the wall, landing further away then he’d preferred.

He let out a sigh before going to pick the fake arm back up, thankful his job was getting somewhat easier. Maneuvering his way around a pile of desks and lockers, he saw his weapon sitting ahead just in front of the last sack above.

Breathing slowly, he inched over to his weapon, careful not to step too far or else he might wake the creature inside the ceiling sack. Practically baby walking, he finally reached the weapon and bent down to pick it up, his hand outstretched for it; Unfortunately, he wasn’t close enough, thus his reach was just a few centimeters short from the fake arm with the ceiling sack nearly right on top of him.

Okay, no problem, he just had to shift his torso forward, not his whole body. He placed a palm to the floor and inched his chest towards the weapon, his fingers almost grazing the plastic.

He felt himself stop when a force pulled his leg back, halting him from shifting to a comfortable position, as he looked back to see his shoe glued to the tar floor. Growling, he pulled his leg in order to try and free his foot, but the gooey substance refused to let him go, instead clutching onto his soles like sticky paper.

Placing his other hand onto the floor he shifted his free leg to a better position before pulling his captive foot towards him with all his might. In doing this, his leg ripped itself away from its capture, only until a pair of hands sprung out from the floor and grabbed his leg’s ankle, followed by the face of Vanhorn popping out from the tar and screaming at him in a high pitched garble.

Too surprised to say anything, Ethan fell backwards and crashed onto the ground, right underneath the ceiling sack. Almost as if by command, the sack above him busted open and the form of a tar monster roared as gravity overtook it and landed on the man’s chest.

He coughed out in pain once the monster landed on him, the creature writhing on him out in both confusion and rage before it realized it was right on top of its enemy and brought its claws up to strike. Ethan lifted his arm up right as the monster swung down and clenched his teeth once its little claws met their mark before bashing his fist into its freaky little head and sending it sprawling off him.

Feeling the weight of the creature lift, he pulled his body up and stared back at the ground, no longer seeing Vanhorn’s face. He resisted the urge to place a hand on his throbbing head, had he imagined the whole thing.

He didn’t have time to dwell on it though, the sounds of the crazed creature climbing back to its feet and screeching at Ethan giving him enough confirmation he still had other problems to deal with. Turning around, he glared at his small enemy while picking up the prosthetic arm as the monster beat its chest violently before pouncing.

Thrusting his arm out, Ethan swatted the creature midair with the fake arm and bursting it immediately. With his enemy down, he twiddled the weapon in his hands and carried on through the hole, entering a hallway of tar and ooze with the only route going right.

With no other way, he bolted down the corridor, entering a thick hallway with massive open rooms on every side. Hospital beds and wheelchairs littered the rooms he passed by, the haunted and eerie black ooze coupled with the dim flickering lights making the supposed healing technology look more like torture devices ready for slaughter.

Ahead in his path, he saw two more tar creatures sprout from different rooms, both with their arms outstretched and walking slow, seemingly listening for Ethan’s footprints as they instantaneously caught on to his location and shuffled towards him.

Rolling his shoulders, he glanced at the weapon in his hands before looking up and glaring at the small imps and charging forward. Thrusting the arm over his shoulder, he brought it down hard on the closest monster’s head, killing it with a splatter and quickly recuperating with a swing to the other one, hitting it straight in the chest. The force sent the monster flying backwards to the ground, and it exploded on instant.

With the threat taken care of, he stormed down the rest of the corridor before making his way to the end where another adjacent hall awaited, almost like a tunnel of death as whirlpools of tar flowed around him. A sick feeling in his stomach began to grow as the air continued to feel thick and stale, making it challenging to breath properly from all the fumes. Careful to keep his hands by his sides as the hallway rose up from the ground like a hill, until the man entered a large room of empty patient beds with him standing above, almost like he was on a set of stairs looking down on them. Noticing that to the right, the high place he was currently on dipped down and lead to another room, he kept an eye out for any potential dangers as his walked over to the exit.

He wasn’t sure what or why, but it felt as though he was being drawn towards his destination, towards Vanhorn, even if he couldn’t see the old man or let alone know where he went. It was like some part of him knew exactly were the other person was without seeing his trail, but how was that possible?

Reaching the new entrance, he groaned when his already blurry vision and bounding headache grew to an astounding level, so much so he could barely see two feet in front of him. The whispers came back as his ears rung painfully, stepping into a massive room of stretchers and hospital curtains. He could just barely make out a waterfall of tar seeping from a giant hole in the ceiling and drip into another hole in the ground in front of him, as rivers of the crud streamed all over the floor. Looks like he’d have to find a way around if he wanted to press on.

He saw an open room to his left where a machine for mental patients laid useless on the floor, but out of his way so he could shimmy through. Careful as to watch the giant opening next to him, he sidestepped over into the room and began to walk around the hospital device before hearing the sounds of shuffling feet heading in his direction.

Looking up, he saw the blurry form of another hobbling creature bolting towards him from the other side of the small room, garbling out uncomprehensive noises as it brought its claws up. Ethan lifted his hand as the creature pounced onto his exposed forearm, snapping violently for his neck until he thrusted his weapon into the monster’s face, knocking it off him with a shriek as it tumbled to the ground.

He maneuvered his way around the hospital stretcher until his body was free and kicked his foot down on the creature, hearing its bones crack on impact.

Suddenly, another noise shouted from the darkness as he felt a small force connect with his chest, sinking its dirty claws into his skin. He snarled in anger while using his free arm to grab the beast by what he guessed was the neck and brought him up to his face and headbutting the freak, followed by a squelch. When the monster turned to liquid in his hands, he looked back down at the captive underneath his sole before yelling in rage and swinging the prosthetic arm into the creature, killing it.

The weapon broke into splinters on impact, rendering it useless as he spared it a glance and tossed it aside while looking back up. He nearly froze when he saw what laid before him.

Just a few feet away was Vanhorn, strapped by his arms and legs in tar sticking to the wall, making him appear like some sort of sick decoration or trophy for all to see. The floor below Vanhorn had cracked in two, leaving only a dark abyss below should anyone fall, something Ethan wasn’t planning on doing. Walking over to the edge, he noticed that right next to Vanhorn was an open room, a place he could easily rip the old man from the wall.

Placing his back to the tile, he cautiously scooted his feet across the thin concrete attached to the rest of the building as he made his way closer and closer, until he was just inches from the room.

He was all but there, when a pair of burly hands exploded from behind the corner and grabbed a fistful of his long sleeve and he was dragged into the small hospital room. He felt himself being forcefully thrown onto the floor, before looking up to see the thug. The thug who he’d beaten in the bar, as well as the one who supposedly whacked him in the face with the brick before all this confusion started.

He didn’t have time to speak as the thug jumped onto his chest and raised the brick high above him, prepared to give a final blow. Widening his eyes, Ethan used whatever strength he had left and shoved his attacker hard in the stomach, which to his surprise, sent the pale man tumbling as Ethan’s vision was filled with a blinding light.

“What the…”

He mumbled as his eyes adjusted to his surroundings. Snowy droplets drifted from the sky and landed on his ice-cold face and eyes, making him blink in annoyance before sitting up and looking around.

As his vision cleared, he took in the familiar area of the fenced off alleyway from earlier, with the bodies of the beaten-up thugs scattered all over the ground and the friendly bum nowhere to be found.

His brain whirred as he whipped his head around, where was all the tar? Or the monsters? Or…

He looked to the left as he saw his rival, who had picked himself up off the ground, begin stalking towards him, brick in his hand and a leer on his face. Ethan Growled at the man before preparing to stand up when a familiar voice broke the tension.

“DROP IT!”

Stunned by the new voice, both men looked to see a black woman clad in professional clothing accompanied by an armor-clad agent pointing their guns at the brick holding bum.

After a few seconds, the bum glared at the two newcomers before immediately switching to a smirk, speaking in a sickly-sweet voice.

“Hey now.” He smirked, “We’re just having a little fun.”

The woman instead cocked her pistol and growled at him.

“Do it…Now.”

The man simply sighed and turned his attention back to Ethan, looked at him for a good two seconds before winking and turning on his heel, hopping onto the fence.

“Hey!” The woman called out, only to be interrupted by the other male agent as he pushed her weapon down.

“Let him go.” He spat while the bum scattered off into the night.

Giving the agent a quick look, she then looked to Ethan before walking over to him as the agent pressed a hand to his communicator.

“Agent Dorland here.” He ground out, “Subject secured. Affirmative.”

Ethan glared at his feet, his mind racing in multiple directions. What had he just witnessed? Was it even real? Of course, it was! He’d seen it with his own eyes! Did he? And if not, what did it all mean?

He growled lowly. He needed another drink.

“What was that about?”

But first.

He looked up to see the woman leaning over him with her hand outstretched, a worried look on her face. Ethan said nothing as he stared up at her, before sighing and rising to his feet.

“It’s nothing, forget it.”

Standing to his full height, he towered over the woman while looking down on her with an annoyed frown while crossing his arms.

“What do you want Rosa?”

The woman, Rosa, sighed silently while reaching into her pocket and pulling out a recording device, bringing it up to both of them.

“We need your help Ethan, a call came in earlier this morning, and Director Farrell thinks you may know this person.”

He said nothing as he glared down at the device, watching as Rosa pushed the play button and a frantic, scared voice whispered through the speakers.

“He found me! (Huff) I don’t have much time…Ethan trusted you...tell him ARGH!”

Ethan brought his hands up to his nose, breathing out in a calming manner.

“His name is Malcom Vanhorn.” He growled out, already not liking where this was going.

This seemed to interest the agent behind Rosa, as he quickly brought his hand back up to his communicator and spoke through it in confidence.

“Sir we have a positive ID. Yes, Malcom Vanhorn. Understood.”

Whatever the fucker on the other end said seemed to complete the conversation as the agent, or Dorland, whipped around and stomped towards Ethan before thrusting an accusing finger in the man’s face and speaking in an athorative tone.

“Report to SCU in one hour.” He ordered before turning on his heel and exiting through the gate, all signs of an optional agreement being nonnegotiable.

He resisted the urge to laugh, instead shouting after the retreating officer.

“Your joking! I ain’t going back there!”

He felt a gentle arm touch his shoulder, an action he would normally have followed up with a punch to the jaw had he not have known just who it was, however he simply snarled and looked towards Rosa who gave him an earnest smile.

“Ethan, help us, please. Farrell thinks this may help with the problems going on.”

The man simply looked at her before shrugging her hand off his shoulder, growling under his breath as he looked to the floor.

“Farrell thinks a lot of things.”

The woman simply sighed while placing her hands on her hips, chuckling softly.

“Yeah, but hey, any shot at stopping this has got to be worth it right?”

Ethan said nothing as he rubbed his nose, feeling the headache come back with a vengeance.

“By the way, I brought you something.”

He looked up from his hands to see Rosa pull out a pistol from her other pocket, an SCU pistol, his old pistol.

“You and me still have a job to do, and I can’t do without you, Partner.” She smiled, handing him the gun before following Dorland out the gate, leaving Ethan to his thoughts.

He stared at the weapon in his hands, pondering his next move. After a few more moments, he shook his head and placed the gun in his holster before walking after the two agents.

Suddenly, he felt a chill race down his spine, causing him to whip around with his hackles raised. All that met him were a couple of stray birds sitting lazily atop the fence, their beady little eyes scanning him. He continued to glare at the small animals, before sighing and turning back towards the exit with a massive scowl marring his face.

Yeah, he was definitely going to need another drink.

The ex-SCU agent clenched his fists as he followed behind, not bothering to watch the shadows.

The world below the sky

View Online

The first thing she felt was the cold.

Letting out a gasp when a gust of freezing wind hit her straight in the face, she groaned in exasperation before rolling over to her side, where she could feel the wall of her cottage next to her bed. Reaching her hooves down, she attempted to grab her blanket and pull it over her head, only to feel nothing at the base of her body. Moaning, she limply moved her hooves around to feel if it had somehow accidentally fallen off the bed. Except when she did, she felt hard stone instantly contact with her hoof, signifying that she must’ve been on the floor. Small confusion began to surge in her still waking brain. Had she fallen off her mattress?

More icy wind bit into her exposed skin as what she could only presume was droplets of snow landed on her body and hair, melting straight on impact due to her body heat. Holding back a shaky breath, she instinctively curled inward at the unwelcomed contact, the murky bleariness clouding her mind slowly fading. Fluttershy whimpered as unknown noises from far away echoed through her ringing ears, causing her to cover them as she squinted her eyes shut.

It sounded like she was outside, but that couldn’t be right. Why in the wide world of Equestria would she be sleeping outside, and in winter weather no less.

Wait a minute, she didn’t recall going to sleep. And last she checked, it was right in the middle of summertime.

Slowly, she eased her eyes open to see splotches and blurred outlines fill her field of vision. What’s worse, everything seemed dull and grey, with little to no color in anything, making it harder for her to determine where she was. The familiar sickening sense of fear began to stew inside of her as she tried to blink the blurriness away, though her body remained curled on the floor.

After a few tries her vision began to regain itself, the blurred outlines and shapes focusing into view as she made out the setting before her. From what she could see, though very limited due to the darkness and shadows, in front of her was the side of a massive concrete building with a large garage door. Her confusion growing, Fluttershy inched her head to the side to see the rest of the area, where she saw a long row of other concrete buildings stretching down the small little road she was apparently sleeping on.

Dread quickly overgrew her confusion, causing her to try and scramble to her haunches. Except, when she did her hooves didn’t seem to work as well as they should’ve, instead something in her front appendage bent in an awkward angle, causing her face to hit the snowy stone road in surprise.

Squeaking in shock at the freezing snow and her now sore nose, Fluttershy automatically brought up her hoof to stop herself from sneezing. However, what came next made her body go ramrod straight.

Whereas her original plan was to sooth her nose with her hoof, instead she felt cold smooth skin touch her equally smooth face. The world seemed to go in slow motion when she looked down, her mind blank when she saw the weird appendage in place where her hoof used to be.

It looked like the hand of a primate, yet with absolutely no hair to be found. Her heart began to pound louder and louder in her chest, echoing in her ears as she shakingly twisted the thing before her eyes from side to side. Her breathing quickened at rapid pace when she stretched it outward, further paling when it was all but confirmed that this new appendage was indeed now hers. Without thinking, she looked down to survey the rest of her body, praying to the high ends of Equestria that her growing suspicions had to be false.

What she saw made her scream bloody murder which echoed loudly throughout the alleyway.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUGGHHHH!”

Flying backwards, Fluttershy gawked as she stared down at what had replaced her previous body. Replacing her previous equine form, she now resembled something strikingly similar to a monkey or a minotaur, only the difference being that the rest of her appearance, albeit the parts that weren’t covered in clothing, were also hairless, showing her rather pale skin even through the darkness of the night. Speaking of which, adorning her “torso” area was some kind of cottony hoodie, its color a faded yellow, almost the same as her original pony body’s fur coat, and underneath she could see a sky-blue shirt covering the rest of her. What’s more, covering her…legs she remembered Twilight calling them, was a pair of light brown jeans ending with small pink shoes.

She flinched when she heard the sounds of honking, distant city chatter, and even a train echo off the walls of the alley, the sounds suddenly bringing her back to reality. Nervously darting her eyes from side to side, Fluttershy began to notice small but significant differences in her surroundings, noting how what few miscellaneous that occupied the alley appeared to have some sort of feature or feeling that set itself separate from anything else back home.

For example, like how some of the nearby dumpsters had strange lips on the sides of the lids, or how the weird, destroyed bike-looking object off in a corner had way too many mechanical parts attached to it, confusing her as to how a pony could even get that thing to move with their own four hooves. Not to mention how pretty much every single object was way too tall for any pony to reach without wings.

Instinctively breathing in deep as to calm herself, Fluttershy felt herself slump against the ice-cold brick wall behind her as she tried to gaze up at the cloud-covered sky, hoping the sight of nature would grant at least a fraction of ease to her worries.

It seemed to work for a moment, but soon she found herself pausing once realizing that even the very sky itself looked different than Ponyville’s. The stars from the winter constellation, something she always made an effort to gaze at with Twilight, were mismatched and replaced, their formations in opposite places and spaced further apart.

Quickly understanding that her technique at calming herself was failing horribly, Fluttershy instead brought her eyes down while looking back at her “legs”, her still stunned mind fumbling for any kind of answer.

Why? Why was this happening!? Was some pony playing a trick on her, because if so, then this wasn’t funny at all! Perhaps Twilight had accidentally placed a spell on her again? As much as she loved and admired her friend, the ex-unicorn sometimes had a habit of getting a little too excited with her magic.

Heaving puffs of air, Fluttershy looked to her old friend, her eyes full of anger and self hatred. As soon as she saw Rainbow Dash’s own horrified look however, her look immediately turned to one of regret and fear.

"I-I..."

Fluttershy kept her gaze on a stilled Rainbow Dash, before the sound of ponies yelling and the sudden static in the air caught her attention.

Confused, she looked to the side. And her eyes widened when a stream of pure green energy slammed into her at full force.

She gasped when realization hit her, ice forming in her chest as the memories resurfaced. No, this wasn’t some prank nor Twilight’s doing. It wasn’t even an accident. Chrysalis had hit her with her magic, and it must’ve sent her to this place, giving her this body.

In a matter of seconds, questions flooded her mind as quickly as the memories did, her stress growing with each word. Why would Chrysalis do this though? The queen had made it abundantly clear that she utterly despised Fluttershy and her friends, so why would she send her to this place instead of just outright destroying her? (Ugh, the very thought made her nauseas and visibly shiver.) Apart from her initial shock, she’d be confident enough to say that she was otherwise perfectly fine. No visible cuts or burns, and she at least had some sort of clothed protection against this strange weather.

Letting out a couple more shaky breaths, Fluttershy gulped before lifting up her arm and placing her palm on the icy brick wall of the building behind her, fingers gripping tightly onto a loose handhold as she began pulling her weight upward until she managed to lift herself onto her feet. As her back unconsciously leaned further into the wall, she cast her eyes nervously ahead of her, focusing on where in the world she could possibly go.

Through the falling snow, she could see at the end of the long alleyway was what had to be a public road, as she could just barely see lights and movement passing by the narrow entrance. She silently thanked Celestia that wherever she’d been dumped at was fortunately occupied with life.

Hands still firmly clutching to the safety of the wall, she nudged her head towards the right and called out, her voice oddly hoarse and sore.

“H-Hello?”

Wincing at her low volume, when hearing no response, she gulped to try and soothe her rather scratchy throat before deciding to call out for help again, this time slightly louder.

“H-Hello, can any pony hear me?”

No answer.

“I-I ne-ed help!”

Each word felt like a dagger slicing down her throat, making it almost unbearable to say anything. Blinking back tears, Fluttershy huffed in exasperation. If no one could hear her, then she needed to get closer. Which required movement.

Peering at her feet, the ex-Pegasus lifted her left leg and placed it forward, her show firmly planted on the ground. Simply the act itself made her give a small smile. Okay, this didn’t seem so bad, as opposed to her recollection of Twilight’s tale from the princess’s experience at CHS front the world beyond the mirror. With her weight on her leg Fluttershy ever so gently leaned her body forward, hand still clutched onto the brick wall’s handhold. Straight away she felt her leg begin to wobble as if it’d been asleep at the sudden increase of pressure, nearly causing her to drop back down to the ground in surprise, although her balance kept her right. So far, so good, just keep doing what Twilight did.

With her leg still out, she shifted her second and moved it forwards as well, making sure its trajectory was a little further than her left legs’ position. Once she was satisfied with her stance, in a fit of confidence she quickly let go of the wall and pushed herself out onto the small alley roadway, both arms shooting outwards to balance her torso.

For a minute nothing happened, at least nothing majorly precarious, aside from her legs wobbling like jelly from underneath her torso’s weight, she was almost balanced. A tiny smile began to form across her lips as she distinctly heard the sounds of her friend’s roaring cheers inside her head, she felt a spark of warmth in her chest at the victory, despite the current situation.

Alright, she could do this, she could do this. Just one, two. One two. Simple filly steps. Puffing out her chest, the ex-Pegasus sucked in a deep breath and lifted her left leg back up, aiming forward. All of a sudden, while suspended mid-step a heavy weight on her back quickly began to pull her backwards to the wall she’d previously pushed off of. Swinging her arms rapidly as she back peddled, Fluttershy let out a squeal before her legs gave out from underneath her and landed roughly onto the snow-covered ground.

“Ow!” She cried, swinging her arm behind her back to massage the new sore, only to freeze when feeling a familiar, yet at the same time unfamiliar feathery presence. Gulping down a stone, Fluttershy brought back her other hand and placed it too on her backside, instantly feeling the exact same feathery lump attached near her spine.

It was then she became acutely aware of the growing heat slowly emerging into the extra appendages behind her, much like how blood rushes back through the veins of a person’s leg when it’s asleep, an invisible fire melting away solid ice in order to revive a person’s movement. As more and more body heat burned through her middle spine and spread widely through the two appendages, she found herself helpless of control as her wings ever-so-gently fluttered open, shivering at the creaking and popping of inhuman bones forming into place, as if they were stretching their muscles after a long sleep.

Twisting her head over her shoulder, Fluttershy gaped in awe at the sight of her equestrian gifts. They looked exactly the same from back home, their color still a brilliant, pure yellow with thick protective feathers keeping her skin safe from the cold snow. The only difference now being that they were significantly bigger, no doubt to better fit her new “body.”

Shock eventually fading away, she blinked rapidly in order to make sure what she was seeing was actually real. Just to make sure, she reached out a hand and gently placed it on the wing’s middle, the smoothness of the feather still cottony and clean just how she usually kept it.

That didn’t stop her heart from beginning to beat faster and faster, causing her breathing to sharpen. Using what little strength she had left, her wings slowly furled back towards her spine, their ends sprouting from two perfectly cut holes in her hoodie. Although who it was that cut them was a mystery, right now she’d consider it the least of her worries. Gripping the sleeves of her soft jacket, Fluttershy grit her teeth as more tears streamed down her face, sniffling while trying to cover her face from the wind. Where were her friends, did they know where she was? What she wouldn’t do for Twilight or Applejack’s advice or Pinkie Pie’s optimism. They always seemed to know just what to say to her to calm her nerves. She winced again, why couldn’t she be more like them? At least then she’d have at least an inkling of what to do in this situation.

A loud honking noise broke off in the distance, snapping her mind back to reality. Oh right, she’d momentarily forgotten about the apparent civilization currently just a few yards from her. Breathing in, Fluttershy once again pulled her arm up and grabbed the brick wall, easing herself back to her two feet.

Pushing off the side of the building, a yelp nearly escaped her when she felt the weight of her wings begin to drag on her back causing her to sway her hands in order to keep her balance. Luckily, she was more prepared this time and instead propelled her torso forward to keep steady against the extra weight.

Using this strategy, the ex-Pegasus eventually found herself making her way down the alley, although, in a very wobbly/unsteady fashion. Every so often, she’d stumble or trip over her own feet causing her to quickly latch onto a nearby railing or dumpster in order to keep herself from falling to the floor.

The icy wind continued to prick at her skin the faster her pace got, causing her movements to at some points be slow. It certainly didn’t help that with the lack of hair to protect her body from the weather, her face and palms were quickly beginning to feel more and more numb with every attempt at catching herself. How could humans live like this?

“Hey, you.”

Freezing in place, Fluttershy’s blood ran as cold as the snow falling around her while simultaneously turning her head into the direction of the new voice that’d broken through the air.

In said direction, from what little she could see, there was a small gap in between two towering buildings beside her creating an even thinner and much more darkened pathway. However, if she were to narrow her eyes she’d be able to see a hunched form clinging to a side of the shadowy wall just a set few meters away.

Before she could pawn it off as a figment of her delirious imagination, the figure shuffled slightly causing the piles of discarded trash around him to crinkle, further announcing his presence. If that wasn’t bad enough, the stranger began to cough harshly and spoke again, this time in a louder voice.

“Yeah, I’m talking to you little girly.”

His voice was throaty and growled, almost as if it was hard for him to talk at all. A noticeable shiver ran down Fluttershy’s spin, and she was pretty sure it wasn’t because of the cold.

The stranger leaned further down and coughed wetly into his palm, before turning his head to the side and spitting out something off to the side, the sight making Fluttershy’s stomach twist in disgust. Finally shuffling over just a hair the stranger stepped out of the shadows with his form somewhat visible in the dim moonlight, and she quickly covered her mouth to stifle her gasp.

The stranger was a hooded figure, obviously male, and about three times her age and size. Though the darkness didn’t help, she couldn’t help but notice how his skin was sickly pale, but even that was hard to see through the mass of dark splotches coating his cheeks down to his chin. Speaking of which, she swore she could see some sort of material etching across his lips, it looked almost like it was metal.

The man didn’t appear to notice her initial shock as he slowly rose, easily towering over her form, the dark alleyway making him look even more sinister. Suddenly, almost like her instincts had kicked her into recognizing the issue, Fluttershy found herself backing away into the building behind them, heart stopping when realizing the already small space between them was even smaller then she’d originally thought.

She watched as the man before her coughed once more into his fist while snarling, almost as if it was painful for him to even speak.

“Didn’t mommy and daddy teach you that it’s dangerous for kiddies like you to go wandering out at night. Especially in this part of town.”

He took another step, causing her to scrunch up further into the brick wall.

“You’re going to need someone to protect you.”

Now, as a member of the Elements of harmony Fluttershy had quickly gotten accustomed to coming face-to-face with a various amount of unfriendly, to downright terrifying villains. From the old pony’s tale turned real-life Nightmare Moon, all the way to the sly and admittedly rude Discord. However, something about this stranger made something within her body recoil, an all-new type of fear she’d truthfully never experienced before.

She remembered the warnings her parents had thrust onto both her and Zephyr when they were only foals. About how they should refuse if any pony older than them offered treats and other goodies when they were alone, or how to never accept any pony else, who were not close nor family, to be escorted home with.

The ponies who committed those kinds of actions were true monsters in her eyes.

Gazing back at him, she swallowed her growing inner hysteria and spoke in a shaky voice while simultaneously trying to hide as much as she could behind her hair.

“N-no thank you. I’m fine.”

The stranger’s grin etched larger, placing his palm on the wall just above her head while gazing his eyes darkly towards her torso, his free hand creeping dangerously closer by the second.

“Aww, but what kind of gentleman would I be if I left such a lonely little kitten alone in the streets of big bad Metro City?”

Within an instant she quickly swiveled off to the side, barely missing his grubby fingers by an inch, and began to relentlessly backpaddle further away from him, her backside turned towards the end of the alleyway leading to the street .

“S-so sorry…” She spluttered. “…But I really need to get going.”

With that, she instantly turned on her heel while preparing to high tail it as fast as she could. Obviously the man didn’t seem to take her refusal lightly.

“Hey, get back here!”

She would’ve attempted to full on sprint if she hadn’t nearly toppled over a stray grocery cart sitting right out of her field of view, causing her momentum to slow increasingly. As she was struggling to gain back her balance, the stranger seemed to take this as the prefect opportunity.

“I SAID GET BACK HERE YOU FUCKING LITTLE BITCH!”

Suddenly, she felt a calloused hand grab a fistful of her hoodie, stopping her clear in her tracks. The edge of her jacket yanked back in response to the offending momentum, causing her to nearly choke as the tight collar pushed into her throat. Although, she rarely paid it any mind, as she was now currently focused on the primal growl practically breathing down her neck.

“Now you listen here, girly…” The man snarled viciously, which caused her own skin to turn pale. “…I’ve had a very shitty night, so I’m just gonna skip the damn niceties and…”

Whatever was left of his sentence was abruptly cut off, his words seemingly dying in his throat and replaced with eerie silence. His hand still holding tight to her jacket, she shuffled uncomfortably as a sort of incoherent mumbling could be heard coming from his mouth. After a few more seconds of painful silence, the man behind her finally managed to breathe out a sentence.

“What the fuck?”

Fluttershy blinked in confusion, wondering as to what in the world could’ve caused her attacker to switch his attitude so suddenly.

That’s when it hit her.

Her wings. Unlike the rest of her body, her wings were completely uncovered from clothing, big and bright for all the world to see. And if she recalled Twilight’s lecture correctly, humans weren’t supposed to have Pegasus wings.

The man holding her had obviously thought the same thing, because no sooner had the puzzle been completed when she felt something shift from behind and a calloused, meaty hand grabbed harshly onto one of her wings. Eyes widened and body shuddering, Fluttershy nearly choked as a pit of nausea began to boil in her stomach from the touch, and in a second of instinctive motivation she jolted forward. This only seemed to annoy her captor more as he grunted in surprise before quickly tightening his grip on the wing, rough nails digging into the feathers and skin as he pulled her back by the wing bone.

This time the young woman couldn’t help the startled shriek that escaped her lips and once again pushed away from her captor, this time more forcefully, before the hand let go of her wing and went over to grab a fistful of her jacket.

Suddenly Fluttershy found herself whipped around and facing the man head on, her nose mere centimeters from his own. Whatever other words or movement she planned on making ceased instantly as she felt her body freeze in place, her mind too comprehended with what she was currently being forced to look at.

Whereas the stranger had been near completely shrouded in darkness earlier, with the dim light of the moon alongside a few stray blinking lights in the alley, it was not too difficult to get a good view of the man’s face. He was beefy and muscular, his teal eyes, surrounded by his sickly pale face, beamed through the shadows.

But the worst part, was the fact that the lower part of his face was coated in what could only be blood, which was now crusted stuck across his busted lips and down his chin. Peering up, she could see that his nose was practically smashed to pieces, obviously the culprit of his horrid appearance.

Grabbing the folds of her hoodie, he pulled the young girl closer towards him, making her gag from the stench of his blood and alcohol mixed breath. Showing a row of rotten yellow teeth, the man growled in a low, and oddly serious voice.

“Who-What, the fuck are you?”

Fluttershy winced in his grasp, trying desperately to ignore the foul smell and focus on escaping this perilous situation. She opened her mouth to answer, but to her horror could only speak in a mess of jumbled words.

The man huffed exasperatingly and without a second’s hesitation, threw her headfirst into the alley he himself had just previously been in. A cry of pain echoed throughout the narrow street when she toppled over small metal dumpsters and other hard litter. Shaking off the discarded trash now piling on top of her, Fluttershy lifted her head up as the stranger closed in on her sprawled form, his eyes gleaming with malice. Did she hear ringing?

Unzipping the top of his hoodie, the man reached inside the folds and pulled out an odd-looking object, before a small flick was heard and the glint of metal shone through the night. Fluttershy felt her heart quicken while attempting to scramble backwards, the man’s arm lifting as he fiddled with the knife.

“You’re coming with me. They’re gonna love you.”

Now just within arm’s reach of her, Fluttershy desperately wracked her brain for any form of plan, only to come up with nothing. Her hand reached back, absentmindedly trying to pull away from the danger, when she felt her palm graze over the trash spilled from one of the dumpsters.

Suddenly, an idea formed.

In seconds she whipped around and scooped up a mass of mucky litter into her arms before flinging it straight into the man’s face, causing him to snarl in surprise when a couple pieces of trash landed in his eyes. With her attacker distracted, she scrambled to her feet and took off down the dark alley, now in a completely separate route than the one towards the street.

sprinting through the darkness, Fluttershy strained her eyes to search the path for any obstacles and just where in fact the road was leading. That and also being instantly aware of the following sounds of footsteps right behind her, signifying her captor wasn’t done with her just yet.

Though it was difficult to see much of anything, not to mention her movements were inconsistent and awkward due to her new body’s autonomy, every now and then she’d catch glimpses of shapes rowed alongside the walls. In desperation she swung her arms out and pulled down the nearest object she could get her hands on, a loud clanging sound echoing while the trash bin fell to the ground. She then proceeded to grab whatever she could find and threw them behind her in hopes of blocking the stranger’s pathway, bins, potted plants, bikes, and other miscellaneous to stall for time.

It seemed to be working too, she could hear the fallen items being stepped on and tripped over, coupled with the consistent vile curses and swears. Looking forward, she noticed that the alleyway finally ended with a massive fence guarding the rest of the way, with dim light luminating from behind it. Once she got close enough, she hopped onto a strange barrel looking thing and propelled herself over the wooden barrier, scratching her torso on account of her new human body’s uncomfortably extended length as opposed to her past Equestrian self. Luckily, she was quick enough to kick the barrel down and out of the way before he could climb up after her, therefore halting his progress for a few spare seconds.

Dropping from the top of the fence, Fluttershy felt air being punched through her lungs as gravity slammed her onto the pavement emitting a short gasp of pain from her mouth. However, the sounds of something climbing up the fence sparked a sense of adrenaline in her body which forced her to roll off her injured side and claw her way back up to her feet before taking off once more.

The alley behind the wooden gate was slightly more illuminated than before, with flickering streetlights hanging off backdoors and garages which made it thankfully more easy for the ex-Equestrian to navigate as to where she was going.

It wasn’t long before the road forked, causing her to pause. On the right you could see more of the alleyway due to there being more lights show casing the pathway curving up ahead, leaving its intended destination anonymous. Meanwhile, the left side was the exact opposite, with it being nearly completely dark therefore giving her no indication as to what she’d find were she to go on that route. Were it a far less stressful situation, Fluttershy might’ve taken note of the cliché, however the sounds of grunting and angry yelling coming from behind her stifled the thought before it could register.

Gripping onto the folds of her jacket, she chewed her lip as her eyes darted from side to side. Come on, think! Do something before he gets you, the others would know what to do. Suddenly she heard a voice roar from behind.

“GET BACK HERE! YOU CAN’T RUN FROM US!”

On que she bolted down the left side, sprinting as fast as she could even with her limited vision. She was once again covered in darkness, the shadows of the gigantic buildings beside the small girl made it seem as though everything had been swallowed up into a black hole. That didn’t stop her from desperately attempting to escape whatever horrific things that man had in store for her though, so she pushed on.

After what she could only guess was 15-or-so minutes, Fluttershy soon picked up on the distinct lack of running footsteps trailing her rear. Did she loose him? Not wanting to mistakenly slow down to check, only to be immediately jumped, she continued her pace as best she could.

As the minutes slowly passed with her stumbling blindly through the dark alley, she soon began to slow her pace when the aching in both her legs and her lungs made it too difficult to carry any further, eventually forcing her to a steady light jog.

In the corner of her eye was one of the many gigantic metal dumpsters which had rowed alongside the many walls she’d seen in the past few minutes. An idea quickly popped into place, although it made her physically cringe.

She attempted to screech to a halt, sliding on the slippery ground a few inches before catching herself from falling by grasping the dumpster’s handles. Dragging her legs inward, Fluttershy took a second to catch her breath, then released the handle and fumbled around the edge of the dumpster’s lid in order to open it. With every ounce of strength she had, the young girl heaved the heavy plastic up and over, resting it high against the building it laid against.

With that said and done, she grasped both hands onto the open edge of the bin and quickly hoisted herself over the opening torso first. Having to flail her legs in order to fully push her whole body in the dumpster, she let out a cry of shock when she eventually slipped down and landed into a face-full of garbage. The dumpster must’ve shaken due to its newest occupant’s movement, as the bin’s lid pushed off of the wall and crashed back down. The loud noise of the closing latch echoed through the metal container, rattling Fluttershy’s brain like marbles in a jar, causing a new sensation of pain to shiver down her spine.

After a few seconds of vibrating, the dumpster was silent once more, leaving her in the pitch-black darkness. Even with her body in a dreadfully uncomfortable state, the young woman held her breath while silently waiting for any sort of sound from outside her new hiding place.

Despite the appearance of the seemingly tough metal, it wasn’t at all difficult to hear the terrible wind outside, the now much farther sounds of traffic and even a distant train horn. None of which were connected with a would-be ponynapper.

After what felt like ages, Fluttershy inched her body into a more desired state while trying to keep the crinkling of trash bags at a minimum, luckily for her there were apparently no sharp glass or plastic objects in the dumpster making it surprisingly more comfortable than she’d like to admit. Although the smell she could’ve definitely done without.

The minutes ticked by as she waited, her breathing so quiet that the loudest thing she could physically hear was the sound of her own rapid heartbeat jackhammering against her chest. Wrapping her arms around her legs, water began to pool in the corner of her eyes as she buried herself into her knees, horrid realization and shock finally sinking in. The young woman twitched as the small space echoed with uncontrolled sobs.

Where was she, where were her friends? She needed them, she needed them now!

Twilight said that the people from the mirror world were mostly kind, just like everyone from back home, so did something go wrong? Did she unknowingly insult someone, or perhaps something? God, this was all so utterly confusing.

Suddenly, the ground beneath her began to shift forcing Fluttershy to cease her crying. Before she could say anything, a loud coughing sound erupted from under the hefty trash bags as a large form emerged to reveal a burly, orange clothed man, scars and numerous bandaged covering her face.

“Wha- who’s there.” He said in a thick and dangerous voice.

Fluttershy for her part decided to instinctively cover her mouth with her hoof palm, this time not wanting to gain another’s attention. Luck really seemed to despise her today though, because almost instantly the homeless man turned his head to look her straight in the eyes.

Both froze immediately, with Fluttershy silently sucking in a breath and giving a small wave while the homeless bum jerked his head, blinking rapidly.

“What the f- Lindsey, i’ssat you? Thought you was entertaining Jesse tonight.”

She cringed when he snorted, leaned over and spit something off to the side, the wet sound nearly making her want to gag. He then began to shift himself further upwards, to the point where he raised his hands and slowly began to lift open the dumpster lid above. In doing so, the brilliant moonlight from outside quickly leaked through the cracks, illuminating what had originally been her cover.

As fast as she could, Fluttershy scooted away from the incoming light until she huddled against the dumpster’s inner corner, trying desperately to appear as small as possible in hopes that whoever this new person was couldn’t immediately tell she was not, in fact, “Lindsey.”

“That coke-sniffing prick better not have sent you back here to steal from me again, ‘cause if so, I’m gonna-“

He abruptly stopped mid-sentence. While he had successfully opened the lid, with his torso fully outside as the lid leaned against the wall, the other half of the dumpster lid where Fluttershy occupied was still closed.

He let out a sound of irritation before flinging the second half of the dumpster bin open, his expression traveling from initial annoyance, to shock, to full on fury when his eyes laid on the woman before him. Wrenching his hand away from the wall, the man scrambled to his feet, (as best he could, considering he was already waist deep in garbage), and pulled out a hidden rusty pipe from underneath him. If she wasn’t too occupied at the moment, she might’ve heard that odd ringing sound drifting through the air.

“And just what the fuck do you think your doing, you little bitch!?”

Now fully terrified, all Fluttershy could manage was a barely contained whimper that seemed to enrage the bum even more as he loomed over her trembling form.

“You thinking of stealing my stash? Because let me tell you alley rat, I’m about two Fucking seconds from sticking this thing up your ass!”

It seemed as though his mind had already been made up however, because no sooner had he finished that sentence, he brought up his weapon with a howl of uncontrolled rage before crashing it down towards her forehead.

Faster than she expected, Fluttershy whipped her head to the left just as the pipe slammed into the metal edge of the bin and followed up by scurrying towards the opening. The wind picked up as the bum recuperated his missed attack by swinging the pipe at her upper back, which missed again when she toppled out of the container and back onto the wet road.

Almost as soon as her body hit the pavement, she rolled and flung herself away down the street, the crazy bum shouting rambling nonsense at her as he waved his weapon in the air while still seated in the filthy shelter.

His words bounced off of her though, as Fluttershy continued to run at near breakneck speed with the full intent on not stopping.

Signs and other potential hiding stops were ignored in her panic as she weaved through multiple turns/forks without the slightest hesitation, even pushing aside stray objects and running past broken cars. She didn’t care anymore. Nothing here could provide her enough safety, not with those dangerous creatures humans about. No, the only place that could possibly be safe was the outside street, definitely not in these Celestia-forsaken alleyways.

She just hoped that through her frenzied state of mind she’d somehow be able to find a path leading to it.

The burning that had begun to grow in both her legs and chest weren’t doing her any favors either, already it was starting to take a toll on her speed. At least the pathway she’d chose to run down was actually well lit from the overhanging lamps, therefore sight wasn’t much of an issue like before.

Every now and then, she’d pass by a few stray humans accompanying the sides of the building doors and steps. Some ignored the hysterical girl speeding across them while others gave her a curious gaze, regardless, she slightly picked up speed whenever she saw one.

Minutes later her legs seemed to finally give out from exhaustion, causing the young Equestrian to quickly topple over towards a railing in order to give steady balance. Gripping onto the freezing metal like a vice, Fluttershy’s chest heaved up and down as she panted in loud, exaggerated breathes, to the point were one would think she was having a small stroke. Honestly, she wouldn’t be surprised if she actually was having a panic attack, her life had just been threatened twice in the span of just thirty minutes!

Placing a hand on her rapidly beating heart, she winced when it felt like it would burst out of her chest.

What to do. What to do. What to do. What to do. What to do!? She mentally demanded, there had to be some way she could get out of this horrible alley. the road could be that far!

Suddenly she paused when something caught her ear. Quieting her pants as best she could manage, the young woman closed her mouth and cautiously lent an ear out to listen, trying to ignore the strong winter wind and her slowly beating heart.

There it is again!

There was another sound just off into the distance, hidden behind the tall building high above her. Just hearing it made her wings flutter in exasperation, which made her blink.

Wait, she still had her wings, regardless of the changes to the rest of her body. How had she forgotten?

Removing her shaking hands away from the railing Fluttershy backed up towards the middle of the small road, before turning her head back to peer at the two appendages. Rolling her shoulders, she gingerly ruffled her wings, much like how she would sooth one of her animal friends in order to wake them up back home, the bones still rather stiff and groggy. Fortunately, she was still able to fully open them, although once again lost in temperamental awe as their wingspan nearly covered the entire alleyway.

Despite the rather dire situation, Fluttershy decided to slowly take her time in stretching them out, tensing the muscles and flexing them. After a short while, when she felt confident some of her strength had resurfaced, she turned her gaze away from them and towards the bulky store to the left.

Okay, here was the plan: Fly over the building, attempt to land somewhere people wouldn’t immediately notice her, ask somepony somebody where she was and also for directions to a person who could help her get back home. Simple!

Taking a long breath in, Fluttershy steadied herself into a flying position, with her legs split, head low, wings tall. Shallowing her breathing, she mentally chanted over and over to encourage herself, trying her best to forget about her clammy hands.

She flapped her wings down, the wind trailing behind them blowing snow off the floor and into the air. At first, her wings flapped up and down while the rest of her body continued to stay on the floor, her new body’s weight was far heavier then her previous Equestrian form, therefore she realized it made sense they required much more a “push” to get her entirely off the ground.

With a surprising amount of strength, Fluttershy squeezed her eyes as she brought her wings down harder, stirring up even more wind and snow, until she felt the ground underneath her shoes give away.

The feeling made her eyes open in shock while immediately looking down. Though hard to tell, she was pretty sure the ground was about 4 feet from her. Eyes sparkling, Fluttershy brought her hands to her chin alongside a massive grin.

“I-I did it!” she exclaimed, kicking her legs in the air in her joy.

Just as she was celebrating her victory, her body began to wobble from the erratic movement with her suddenly having to flap even harder in order to keep herself from collapsing back down to the Earth. Waving her arms wildly, she straightened up while bringing both legs and arms close to her chest, an embarrassed blush growing.

Ok, back to business. Craning her neck upwards, she glared at the building she planned on flying over, a new sense of determination filling her soul. She could do this, it just took filly steps.

Flapping her wings down with more force, the young woman began to ascend higher and higher from the floor, although her movements were rickety and unbalanced, reaching the third floor in mere seconds. With her gaining elevation the air seemed to grow more and more tense, a weird sense of alarm going off in the back of her head, warning her about something unseen.

She ignored it and pressed on, the sight of the roof making her give a smile. The structure below her must’ve been small because the roof was rather short length, despite its bottom’s towering appearance. Lucky this meant she had a better view of the street.

Only what she saw made her audibly gasp in utter horror.

When she inevitably reached the street, Fluttershy had initially expected to see people scurrying about, perhaps not as many due to it being night, but at least she knew there had to be a few people busying about.

Instead, what she saw below was an absolute warzone. Humans of all shapes and sizes tearing into one another with fists, teeth, and practically anything else they could get their hands on. Men and women ripping each other apart with the most animalistic fury even a dragon would’ve deemed excessive. From her spot high in the air, it was evident the chaos had just started, with numerous people seemingly spilling out of hidden corners and shadows from within the city to join the fray.

Staring wide-eyed at the scene, the young Equestrian was beyond certain she was witnessing the most atrocious thing to ever happen. How could such a horrific thing be possible? Faust, she felt beyond ill just looking at it. This had to be some sort of nightmare, it had to be. Any second princess Luna would appear and stop this madness, any second now.

However, instead of a certain princess of the night, Fluttershy felt her body stiffen as an immense ringing sound erupted from the night sky followed by overwhelming surges of pain which cracked through her skull. It was like somepony had drilled poison straight into her brain with it running like river down her vertebra, paralyzing her muscles and nerves into a comatose state. The ringing was so loud and forced, she was sure her head would burst at any second.

Unable to hold it in, Fluttershy screamed in pure agony while the tortuous sensation reached her wings, forcing her instincts to kick in and furl them back to her sides. Obviously once this happened, gravity suddenly overtook her and sent the girl careening downwards at rapid pace, her trajectory leading right smack in the middle of the bloodbath. Trying to stomach through the pain, she desperately tried to open her wings again, only to be met with harsh resistance. It was as if they were glued shut!

Fluttershy’s struggle eventually bore fruit when her wings opened just in time to teeter her inches over the heads of the crazed rioters, (who either fortunately or unfortunately were too busy killing each other to even notice her), quickly ducking underneath the elevated train rail that towered over the street and its occupants, and finally lifted herself up over a brick wall that stood alongside the edge of the road.

Her split-second actions must’ve finally been the last straw for her strength, as any power left in her wings evaporated like fog and caused the young woman to lose control while falling down onto the floor behind the brick wall. She braced herself for the landing, feeling the sharp sting of concrete slam into her skin while her body rolled for a couple feet before slamming into something.

“Ooowwww.” Fluttershy groaned as she massaged her sore head, her head dangling low while her stomach laid on what felt like a surprisingly soft object. Using her elbow, she pushed off the object not knowing her feet were in the way which resulted in her tripping over them and onto her rear.

She huffed irritably while glaring ahead, only to stop herself from full on retching.

Apparently the “soft” object she’d landed on was no other than the body of a bulky, deceased human lying face-down in a pool of his own blood. Face-down being highly suggested considering his entire head was splattered all over the pavement. Unable to look any longer, she quickly turned away while instinctively covering her mouth, trying to keep the incoming bile at bay as she leaned over.

Her body shivered as the rancid stuff burned back down her throat. Letting out a very loose breath, the ex-Equestrian slowly rose to her feet, doing her absolute best to ignore the roaring riot just on the other side of the small wall which guarded her and the building it belonged to. Although apparently it couldn’t keep out a few stragglers. As she looked around, the area was merely a few short yards, barely enough to fit two or more carriages in place.

What’s worse, the small lot was littered with bodies. Dead men slumped over in corners, a bench, over what were supposedly once decent plant decorations, you name it. Bringing her freezing hands inward, she looked up at the towering scraper that was now her new residence trying to get at least an inkling of what this dusty mess was supposed to represent. no such luck however, as the building’s advertising sign was far too high for her to see, not to mention it appeared beaten to all Tartarus.

Awkwardly weaving around the crumpled forms at her feet, Fluttershy peered up at the cloudy night sky hoping it would somewhat soothe her nerves. The odd pain and ringing from earlier was still there, she could feel its presence continuously buzzing in her brain. Only it seemed to be less heavy now for some odd reason, as if someone had thankfully shut off a switch.

Once she finally made it to the steps, she paused once noticing that both the front double doors were wide open giving a clear view of the messy inside. So, someone had to be in there, but whether they were friendly or not was the question.

Something in her mind, oddly Twilight-like, scoffed loudly. Of course there’s somepony in there, somepony who won’t think twice about tearing you limb from limb! You need to find somewhere else to hide, so they won’t find you.

Then another voice spoke up, this once accustomed to that of Rainbow Dash. Yeah, but where else can you go?! This whole place is crawling with nutjobs, at least in here it looks like there would be some good hiding spots. You could wait this whole thing out then escape by morning!

Nervously clasping her hands together, Fluttershy gazed back at the area behind her, then past the guard wall in the far back where she could see a portion of the new city she’d been stranded in. Despite their towering looks, she couldn’t help but wilt at the nauseating aura emanating from within the place, the overwhelming greyness of practically everything felt crippling and desolate. She didn’t want to sound too crazy, but it was as if the entire city itself was crying out for help.

Where in Equestria was she?

The sound of a loud bang echoed across the road from underneath the overhead commuter tracks, making up her mind for her before hopping through the already open doors and slamming them behind her back.

Silence engulfed the disastrous lobby. When she turned the urge to groan nearly overtook her, the place was an absolute pigsty with chairs, clothes, and other miscellaneous all over the carpet floor, the sight reminding her of a certain younger brother’s room when they were younger.

A good look around the room confirmed that at the moment she was the only pony human in the room, however the distant coppery smell of blood also confirmed she wasn’t exactly alone in the building itself.

To her left was a rather large desk that looked similar to that of a hotel counter, prompting her interest as she ran over. Her spot of interest being the phone sitting on the edge, which she immediately threw herself at and slammed the buttons for the police before placing the receiver to her ear. Her hopes were instantly crushed though when she heard the cursed sound the automatic no service message tauntingly inform her of the situation.

She huffed while placing the phone back into position and had begun to walk off when she stopped, a poster on the wall behind the desk catching her eye.

“Don’t miss it, Neil Young with special guests Wilco & Everest here live at Preston Hotel. 4/18/2008”

On the poster was a man playing his guitar while singing into the microphone, with other supposed scheduled times listed on the bottom of the paper.

Preston Hotel hmm? That sounded about right. After all, the surrounding area did look something akin to an inn. Moving away from the counter, she winced when her back bumped straight into a baggage carrier sitting right behind her, the rustic wheels of course making quite a ruckus.

If she was going to stay here for the time being, then a place to hide was top priority. Specifically someplace no crazy wacko could be able to either find and/or reach her.

She inched away from the metal carrier and took one last look around the room. Most of the hallway entrances were blocked by piling trash, making it nearly impossible to think most of it was not intentional. The only place which seemed akin to accessible was a small entrance to her left where the clutter was somewhat removed enough to create a path down one of the hallways.

Excitement got the better of her as she quickly squeezed past the piles of junk guarding half of the counter in order to reach the next area. However, once passing she stopped in her tracks.

Laying square in the middle of the small room was yet another dead body. Only something was different with this one. Taking a shallow breath, Fluttershy had no choice but to inch closer to the body while taking note of the once living being’s form.

Unlike the humans she’d seen earlier who were brutish, ill looking, and dressed in honest scraps, the lifeless man before her appeared to be that of an officer. The tattered police uniform he was wearing was coated in dark blood which leaked from an odd-shaped hole gaping from between his shoulder blades. Just beyond the body she could faintly see a trail of blood etching back down the hallway, gore staining the already gross carpet.

Her stomach dropped, the poor man must’ve died trying to crawl to safety!

Dropping down to a knee, the ex-Equestrian gingerly placed a hand on the human’s shoulder as fresh tears spilled. Gulping down a stone, Flutterhy rubbed her eyes with her sleeve while staring into his lidded, pale eyes.

“I-I…” She paused for a minute to blink out more tears before whispering. “…I’m sorry. So, so sorry this happened to you.”

Using her palm, she pressed against the officer’s cold forehead and dragged it down to close his eyelids, praying to all the high beings of Equestria it could somewhat bring closure to the man’s resting soul. The girl then stood to move when a loud bang sounded off from the hotel’s front double doors. Gasping, she whipped around as faint noises could be heard coming from just outside the entrance, loud shouts and screams of rage barley muffled from here inside the building. The rioters had found a way over the wall!

Eyes widening, Fluttershy scrambled past the dead officer towards the hallway, squeezing by a moved couch before beginning to turn left. She stopped to take one last look at the officer on the floor, her mind somehow drawn to him.

This man had a whole life planned before this. He helped people, had friends who care about him, had a family who loved him, and now it was all taken away by these horrid people. He’d never relax after a hard day or be there to celebrate his own birthday again. She couldn’t help the sensation of anger and sadness start to boil in her heart, this was wrong, this wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

She gave one last look of sympathy towards the body before turning heel and bolting down the hallway, hoping to get to a hiding spot before the rioters found her.

_________

The deeper she went into Preston Hotel, the more dirtier and filthy it got. Combinations of moss, age, and blood stained the graffiti filled walls surrounding her, giving an overwhelming sense of claustrophobia which made her feel sick. The floor was piled high with scattered papers and cans which crinkled loudly underneath her feet.

She’d stopped running once the sounds of the rioters were far, however she could still hear them through the paper-thin plaster walls. from the sound of it, more and more of the crazy people were piling inside the building, as evidence of the massive crash when they busted through the double doors a little while earlier. She wrapped her arms around herself for comfort as their constant screams and shrieks echoed across the entire first floor.

She had to find safety now.

Up to her left Fluttershy saw a small entrance break off from the rest of the hallway, catching her interest. Quickening her steps, she pulled up to the entrance to see a small room filled with decayed washing machines and dryers, most of them having trash or old clothes spilling out of the openings.

This must be the laundry room. she deduced. This could certainly do for a hiding spot.

Once entering, she walked around to survey the area. Again, most of the machines were chalk full of loose garbage and other things she’d never seen before which blocked the space. What’s worse, was that even with her small body the dryers/washing machines were far too small to hold her.

KKKKSSSSHHHHH!

The young woman jumped when a loud staticky sound burst from out of nowhere, her heart nearly leaping into her throat in terror. Twisting around she gawked wide-eyed as a small mechanical box sitting on an abandoned chair to her left sparked to life, its screen buzzing with white noise. She blinked rapidly at the object, her mind trying to comprehend what she was seeing. She hadn’t realized she’d backed straight into the wall.

For a few seconds the strange box whirred and fizzed with white static as if it were trying its darndest to come to life, with every now and then millisecond frames of pictures popping out at her. Eventually, the screen seemed to find a correct signal as the static left and a loud jingle sounded off with a bright logo igniting most of the dark room.

Metro City News it read in bold letters. The logo then flicked away as a woman in what appeared as a reporter’s outfit appeared on the screen with a bright smile.

“Good evening, I’m Sarah Brenton with City News.” The human woman introduced. “Tonight we would like to introduce a new segment called Streets, hosted by our good friend Tony Rhodes. Tony is perhaps best known for his work last year during the SKX murders, and we’re very excited to see and learn what he uncovers about the city we live in. Tony?”

As the woman placed a hand up to her ear, the screen then flicked to a picture of a nicely dressed man giving a charming smile towards the camera. A new voice, undoubtably his, spoke in a boasting voice.

“Thank you Sarah… The streets scream out to us, they are in pain, but no one knows why. I’m going to live, eat, breathe the streets for the next few weeks to see if we the public can find out what evidentially the local government can’t or won’t tell us. Stay tuned to City News with further live on the scene reports…. I’m Tony Rhodes”

The screen then flickered out like a light, darkening the laundry room once more. Fluttershy for her part continued to sink into the wall not sure what to do next.

Unfortunately, Tony’s broadcast must’ve been quite the interesting proposal as thunderous footsteps could be heard heading towards her from far down the hall, originally distant voices becoming more and more closer by the second.

Forcing her frozen legs to cooperate, she dove head-first into a stray laundry bin, digging deep into the moldy clothes like a bunny. She buried herself all the way to the bottom just in time to hear the now muffled voices reach just around the corner.

“The bitch must be in here somewhere!”

From within the hamper Fluttershy could faintly see two blurred shapes round the corner and enter into the room, both wielding what she could only assume were hoofball bats.

“How do you even know she’s in the building dumbass?” One of the man growled. His partner seemed to shove him back with his elbow.

“Because I saw her enter fuckface! Now quite yakking and start looking.”

She heard the other man sigh in frustration before the two men spread out across the room, the noise they were making it seem as though they were throwing all the miscellaneous around the room in their search.

She held back the urge to sigh in relief when neither of them seemed to approach the hamper, too preoccupied with the machines and shelves. After about a minute of searching, the second man caved in.

“Man, this is bullshit! She’s probably miles away from our asses by now. We need to get outta here, word is there’s some cops in here.”

His partner wasn’t so easily deterred by this however, as he scoffed in annoyance.

“I’m not leaving until I find her!”

Another scoff, this time from the partner.

“Jesus Christ man, what’s it gonna take you to get over Racheal huh?! Look I’m sorry but sooner or later your little obsession will bite you both in the ass!”

“What did you just fucking say to me?!”

BANG!

Everything came to an immediate halt when what sounded akin to one of Pinkie’s cannons exploded from the upper second floor silencing the arguing humans. After the sound faded, a tension hung in the air like a fog, its weight crushing Fluttershy’s heart.

The partner was the first to break the silence.

“Look, if you wanna waste your time in this hellhole, you go ahead, but I’m outta here!”

With that, she watched as one of the blurred shapes back out of the room and bolted back down the hallway, leaving the other one behind. The abandoned man said nothing as his former partner left, instead standing still for a moment as the sounds of the rioters from within the surrounding floor grew louder and louder.

The man snarled before roaring and tossing his bat away in anger. It flew right into the side of the hamper.

To her absolute horror, this allowed the man to finally take notice of the container, the sinking in her stomach maximizing ten-fold. Through the hamper’s cloth she could see the man begin to walk over to where he threw the bat, the wood creaking under his boots like twigs snapping in a quiet forest. Before she knew it his body was right above the hamper, most of her vision blocked by his dark, blurred form hovering over her.

She felt the container shift as he began to pull clothes out, the weight over her shoulders decreasing bit by bit. Her heartbeat rapidly as sweat formed down her brow. If he removed all the clothes, she’d need to find a way to surprise him so she could get a head start. Using her free hand, she laced her fingers around a plastic shirt hanger by her stomach, hoping it could save her precious time.

The hamper was now nearly empty, his grabbing hands mere inches from her wings. She prepared herself.

3…

2…

1…

A loud crash from the wall behind her seemed to startle the man, the crazed sounds of the rioters roaring louder than ever before. The man gazed at the hamper, then back at the wall, where she could only guess he saw something that squashed his original confidence as he began to back further away in fear before taking off in the direction his partner went.

A welcomed sigh of relief escaped her lips as she instantly stood, pushing the gross clothes off her and hopping out of the bin. Curiosity got the best of her as she peered back at the wall in order to see just what scared the man.

It was a massive dent aimed straight towards the laundrey room, inches from busting open. Through the cracks she could just barely see people fighting one another in the other room.

Oh why couldn’t this nightmare just end!

Gripping the hanger, Fluttershy turned and flew out of the room back out into the hallway, where she then continued to bolt down the left side. After a few minutes of clumsily vaulting around and over stuff, the young woman finally reached a smaller hallway further down, where rooms stood tall by her sides.

Absentmindedly picking one to her left, she gingerly pushed the door open to peer inside. The room itself looked alright considering the rest of the building’s condition. Fortunately there was little to no clutter in the room for any people to hide in, making her feel slightly more safe. Inching her way in, she nervously scanned the corners for any sign of life, only to see none, the room was practically gutted.

To the back of the room was a rather decent sized window peering out to the world outside. The glass had long since been smashed, but the frame appeared well guarded. Walking up to it she gazed out at the city beyond, still feeling that bad aura from earlier wafting into her senses like an unwelcome plague.

What could have caused all this chaos? Caused people to act like monsters for no reason at all? Questions ping-ponged around in her brain, yet no answers remained. She sagged at the growing exhaustion clouding over her, what was she going to do now?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a sound coming from the bathroom off to her right. Holding the hanger to her chest, she sucked in a breath while whirling to face the new potential threat.

However, instead of another brutish man like she expected, what busted out of the bathroom door confused her more than anything. It was indeed another human, at least, she assumed it was. “His” body was near horribly skinny, in fact all the man had was skin, with it being paper sheet pale and his ribs jutting outward for all the world to see. His face looked sunken and disfigured as large bumps covered his entire balding head. She wished she didn’t accidentally look down to see him wearing nothing but a pair of stained underwear and socks to cover himself.

She watched as the straggly human twitched and mumbled while his milky crazed eyes bore into hers, like if he was trying to figure out what he was seeing. His mind must’ve declared her as an enemy, because not three seconds later he shrieked at the top of his lungs and charged with his hands waving wildly in the air.

Fluttershy didn’t need to be told twice as she too screamed in terror while taking off into the hallway and straight into the nearest open room with the creature right behind her tail. Reaching the handle, she slammed it shut with a click while the crazed man started to beat on the door while still screaming like a banshee.

Fluttershy didn’t care though, because she was too busy dragging the nearest sofa and blocking the entrance before immediately backing away.

Sweat poured down her brow as she panted, her chest feeling like a constrictor that was cracking through her ribs and into her heart. She sucked in and out, trying her best to get soothe the internal burning within her lungs, yet nothing was working. Was this what a panic attack felt like?

Backing as far away from the door as possible, she was too preoccupied with calming her hyper-stressed nerves to notice the wet substance underneath her shoes.

“Wooaaahh!” She yelped in surprise when her foot slipped from beneath her, sending her body tumbling down onto something both surprisingly cushy as well as painfully pokey in certain areas. She winced when she felt a sharp jab through her side causing her to flinch, the movement creating a sickening gooey sound from whatever her back was laying against. A thick substance seemed to cling onto the feathers of her wings adding to their weight.

Fluttershy shivered in disgust while pushing herself off the floor. One of her hands reached out towards the ground to steady the balance when it landed on an extremely soft object where she felt the palm actually begin to sink. Warm fluid coated all over the hand and seeped through her hoodie’s sleeve, the disgusting gooey sound increasing.

Gagging at the feeling, she hastily yanked her palm out of the substance and brought it up to her face. The hand was coated in a deep, smelly crimson with black spots all over staining her sleeve just above the wrist. Face paling, she jumped to her feet, only to have them buckle due to the pure exhaustion and causing her to fall onto her butt.

Before the ex- Equestrian was something that would haunt her for the rest of her life.

The body was gutted wide open revealing its many intestines, stomach, kidneys, and all other biological parts she’d rather not look at. Blood surrounded every square inch of the room, some areas crusted while others the gore was too thick to dry leaving messy red teardrops trailing down. The walls were decorated in orange candles and blood-drawn eyes, each drilling through her wide ones straight into her frozen soul.

Each joint of the body had small metal poles sticking out, their formation giving the corpse a hauntingly symbolic stature, although the expression of raw terror on the body’s face added to the sensation that this display was meant to be anything but divine. Just above it on the wall was a sentence written in bold, gory letters.

MY EYES HAVE SEEN THE GLORY.

Her breathes became heaved and uncontrollable as she scurried away from the corpse, eyes dead set on the taunting dent in the body’s chest area, signifying where she had recently been laying. Unconsciously she brought a hand to her mouth, going ramrod straight as the blood on her palm smeared over her lips.

That was it, you could almost hear the snap coming from within the young woman’s body at that very moment. She couldn’t stop herself, honest, but it was just too much for her. Not without her friends. After everything that had happened during the last hour; The scary man in the alleyway who tried to kidnap her, the drunk in the dumpster, the monster from the bathroom, this atrocity. Fluttershy just…couldn’t hold it in anymore.

Twisting to the side the traumatized girl retched onto the carpet, puking her guts out as all of the night’s events came crashing down on her. Once every last remain of the burning bile left her throat, a deep sob erupted from her very heart as she brought both hands to her forehead. Without the slightest care for who heard her, she wordlessly screamed in a mixture of rage, anguish, and hysteria while dragging both palms down.

She continued to gaze up at the ceiling while screaming, ignorant or uncaring of the massive gaping hole above gazing back. Soon her throat became far too sore from screaming forcing her to settle on weeping softly.

What did she ever do to deserve this, why would she be sent to this Hell? Was it because of her weakness? Was she really that much of a burden to her friends, to Equestria, why couldn’t she be smart like Twilight, or brave like Rainbow Dash, or professional like Rarity, why wasn’t she as fearless as the rest of them?

Why was she even an element?

The floorboards above her creaked ominously as a new sound of a door opening on the second floor reached her ears, the sound easily heard coming close to the hole on the ceiling. Closing her hiccupping mouth, she got on both her hands and knees while scurrying into the room’s bathroom. The sofa was too heavy and noisy to move fast enough before she could escape.

Kicking the door closed Fluttershy crawled into the dirty bathtub on the far end, scooting to the corner while huddling her knees to her chest.

This was it, there was nowhere else to run. The room’s front door was blocked by her own hands, the person upstairs would’ve no doubt heard her screaming and coming through the hole leading down to here. They would for sure check the bathroom, see her, then it’d be all over for her.

Clenching her teeth together, Fluttershy let more sobs escape as she buried her head into her knees. Some heroic savior right?

Suddenly the bathroom door busted open as a beefy man entered the room, an aggressive scowl on his face as he quickly surveyed the tiny bathroom, his eyes reaching her in no time. Taking her own eyes away from him, she buried herself deeper into her knees, preparing for the inevitable.

However what he said next confused her.

“Rosa, I’ve got a civilian.”

Preston hotel

View Online

SCU headquarters, home of Metro city’s finest.

Ethan grunted, its pristine form and demanding presence hadn’t changed one bit since his rookie years, at least on the outside that is. Now all he wanted to do was pretend the building didn’t even exist, if not drive a car through the front door just to spite the unit’s director.

Leaving the car behind, he followed Rosa and Dorland up the stairs and inside until they were greeted by a dim lit lobby chalked full of officers and detectives. It was basically standard practice at this point to ignore the stares and gasps upon his arrival, many rookies, and veterans alike almost certainly well-informed of the story regarding the infamous ‘cop killer Ethan Thomas’. To think he’d once considered this place a station of justice made his already sandy mouth want to gag. Giving into Rosa’s plea was seeming less than ideal already.

Eventually the trio made it to the escalator, Dorland impatiently ushering a couple secretaries out so they could take their place. The agent brushed off Rosa’s scrutiny as he thumbed the button for the third floor, automatic doors closing leaving them in a ridged silence. Fine by Ethan, if anything quietness was doing wonders for his bleeding scalp, that hooded bastard from the alleyway hit harder then he realized. Trying to take his mind of the pain he glanced around the suffocating metal box, hoping to find some sort of temporary distraction before his thinned mentality snapped like a rubber band.

Standing behind the two current operatives, to his left he could see a single solitary flyer posted on the wall in yellow, dedicating a memorial to two other field agents he’d never seen before: Agent Pennington and agent Miller. Two more officers brought down by the filth lining the streets of this city, no doubt just numbers in a spreadsheet to the eyes of the fat-asses working with the higher ups. He turned away bitterly, on second thought perhaps suffering his headache without distraction was better.

As the elevator announced their stop, he wordlessly stepped into the office floor as they simultaneously marched towards the director’s headquarters. Truth be told every waking cell in his body despised the notion of coming face to face with his old boss, provided that he didn’t throttle the elderly backstabber upon first sight. Whatever problem Vanhorn had gotten himself stuck in shouldn’t be his to deal with, if anything that fucker deserved a good beating. What was he doing here again?

Hopefully that question would be answered soon as Dorland yanked open the entrance and stood by for them to enter, Rosa also walking in a ways before standing to the side to clear room for Ethan and the top dog. He also brushed off her warning glance at him, ever the peace maker in dire situations.

Director Ike Farrell sat expectingly behind his desk, files upon files of papers neatly stacked on his desk either beside him or under folded hands. Ethan refused to acknowledge the director’s rewarding medals and ranks decoratively plastered behind him to further exploit his ego.

“Good evening Agent Thomas. It’s a pleasure to see you again.” Farrell’s hoarse voice cut through his temper like a hot knife in butter, yep, really regretting this decision.

“I’m not an agent anymore Farrell.” Ethan ground out, ignoring Rosa’s wordless look of scrutiny. “You saw to that.”

The grim look on the director’s face hadn’t changed, glaring down at his desk with a sully expression he couldn’t quite pinpoint.

“Yes well, I agree your discharge could have been handled more properly-“

Ethan sighed. “Enough, why am I here?”

Luckily his interruption sparked something out of Farrell, who readjusted himself rather quickly to get to the matter at hand. As though the apology he was in the middle of sending was too fake to continue anyways.

“I’m safe to assume agent Rosa has provided you with the recording of what you believe to be Malcom Vanhorn’s?”

“That’s correct.”

Farrell nodded, leaning back in his chair whilst clearly in thought.

“Agent Rosa retrieved the message 10:36AM this morning, although the caller had not managed to explain the situation nor his location, our trackers managed to find the contact’s phone. It’s somewhere in the eastern part of Metro City, a rundown building once known as Preston Hotel.”

Ethan furrowed his brow in suspicion.

“Again, what part do I have to play in this?”

Farrell opened his mouth to speak, but a voice behind all of them interrupted his words.

“Because earlier during the call Vanhorn asked specifically for you. It’s no secret you two were close in some way, especially what happened before your suspension.”

If looks could kill Dorland would be twenty feet under, the burly agent matching Ethan’s hateful glare with his own. Farrell impatiently clearing his throat brought attention back to him even if temporary, as he sat up straighter and gestured to Ethan.

“Agent… Mr. Thomas, I’ve called you back because Malcom Vanhorn is a civilian of the city and in need of our assistance. Given his reasons Vanhorn kept a tight circle of people he was open with information wise. We were hoping that you’d help us retrieve him from the hotel or if not, provide us with clues as to where or what he might be planning.”

Folding his arms Ethan glared down at Farrell in distain both scenarios replaying in his head. On one hand he really could go for another drink, and every minute he wasted in this vile dump meant less relief against the nauseous acid boiling inside his chest.

On the other hand, finding Vanhorn meant getting answers to questions that’d long rotted away at his brain during his past eleven months wasting away in the gutters, dead end after dead end perpetually stranding him in an endless loop of desperate confusion and grief. Malcom had all but abandoned him after their final confrontation regarding the old man’s nephew.

“Fine, but I’m going in alone.”

____

Their helicopter hovered overhead a couple meters as they descended to the hotel’s rooftop. Its overhead sign somehow still brightened with neon light flickering, lighting up the backside allowing Ethan and his teammates a decent view of their surroundings. Unhooking the line from his belt, the ex-agent checked his rifle once more before sourly trudging away from the two men following from the copter.

As Dorland and the other new agent checked themselves he found himself gazing up at the cloudy sky, noise from their transport mixed with Dorland’s irritating voice fading in the background while he watched snowflakes and feather-weight objects drifting in the wind. Something was wrong, he knew it, just not exactly what.

It’d been nagging at him all night since the bar up until the chopper ride out of SCU. Not to say most days spent watching his city slowly eat its own innards each passing day was any more pleasant, however this was different. Like an even thicker blanket of hopelessness had decided to wrap around Metro city tonight, sealing itself in a cold grave.

Something was said over the radio, he could barely hear Rosa speak through his observation until the pissy form of Dorland hogged half his view. The agent had barely expressed anything other than disdain and fuming silent treatments since Ethan’s arrival, another new agent with a chip on his shoulder and no one else to pour his steaming attitude over.

Jabbing a finger in Ethan’s direction, Dorland spat in disgust.

“Listen, you agreed to help us but if want to crawl back to your cardboard box that’s fine by me!”

Fast friends indeed.

“Back off.” Ethan grit through his teeth. The idiot didn’t seem to get the memo, pausing only a moment at the retort before waving his hand in the taller man’s face.

“Then let’s get one thing straight Mr. Thomas, you’re here to help locate and identify Malcom Vanhorn nothing more. Understand?”

The only thing stopping him from breaking the offending hand, currently in his face mind you, was the implication of Rosa griping at him after the mission was done. Farrell’s disapproval he could care less, but Rosa tended to not leave things stewing for long, it was like getting endlessly pecked at by a frustrated mother hen.

“The hell’s your problem Dorland?” He sighed, the energy to keep conversation for any minute longer was fading fast.

“You’re a drunk and a liability!” His ‘partner’ scoffed, turning heel to greet the third agent cocking his own gun. With all three of them huddled together the chopper pilot called them over the radio as the air bird began moving away from the hotel.

“No signs of activity, good luck down there boys!”

Once their form of transport flew out of sight, Rosa patched herself in.

“Alright, we’re going from the top. Phone records indicate the call originated from within this area…” She began.

“Of course it would be in the worst part of town.” Their third squad member, an agent who’d earlier introduced himself as LeRue during the ride, grumbled under his breath. “So what exactly are we looking for here Rosa?”

“According to the message, a body, possibly two.”

LeRue pinched the bridge of his nose, as if contemplating the idiocy if the overall vagueness of their limited info.

“Got it, two sniffs more important than the hundreds of others found dead out here.”

“Can it LeRue.” Dorland snapped in irritation. Le Rue shrugged in indignation, eyes rolled so far back they nearly pooped out of his head.

“Just saying, shit’s fucked up in this city.”

“That’s enough…”

Dorland cocked his gun and jabbed another finger towards the agent and their surly accomplice.

“…From here on out I’m the commanding leader of this squad. You both will do exactly as I say, when I say it. Nothing happens inside this hotel without me knowing, if there’s any objections, you can happily walk back to SCU on your own. Are we all clear.”

Le Rue gave a half salute, Ethan raised an eyebrow but nonetheless nodded in understanding. That seemed enough for the commander, making a sign with his fingers to trail his behind.

“Good, let’s move!”

As the agent mad his way to the rooftop door, LeRue motioned for Ethan to go in front. When he refused instead LeRue simply shrugged and went after Dorland, although during their trek towards the door the third agent seemed more interested in conversing.

“Cops call this place Needles Inn you know.” He called over his shoulder. “Speedballers jacked up on coke, heroin, and amphetamines rule this place. We’d best stay alert.”

Oh he knew all about Preston Hotel, it once being a landmark for Metro City’s finest attractions for tourists. No one knew how or why the founders and police hand fed the hotel to the roaches, but that was long ago, now a squad car couldn’t take a drive down these roads without their finest firepower at the ready. What with the rioters getting more hostile by the numbering days.

Apparently the door to the stairs was locked prompting their leader to blast the handle and kick through the aged wood. Hopefully the entire hotel hadn’t heard that. Flicking on their flashlights Ethan followed LeRue into the pitch black maw, cold outside air abruptly swapping for musty heat and horrendous chemicals burning his nose and eyes.

“Let me remind you, unnecessary use of force will not be tolerated.”

Dorland was really starting to get on his nerves with all of his nonstop blathering.

On cue to their left a chair was knocked over as a humanoid figure obscured in the shadows bolted from a dark corner and scampered into a man-sized gap between the walls. Their instinctive defensive position too late to catch the unnamable person, however wielded back upon realizing the temporary audience’s identity. Like LeRue explained earlier homeless junkies inhabited this hotel with iron fists for years, threats would be barging in from every crack and crevasse to protect their nasty workshops from everyday crooks. No question what they’d do to a couple of government agents way in over their heads.

Tension thickening to a threatening degree, the group silenced and made their way single file down the shoulder length hallway of the fourth floor. Actually cracks in the wall should’ve been put on a more broader spectrum, holes almost twice his body size opened through multiple rooms giving them a decent view of several still running meth labs.

Through the silence he could hear the sounds of footsteps echoing from all over the building like scattering rodents running from a home owner, making it completely indecipherable whether they were coming from the floors below or right in the next room.

“Where are we heading Dorland?” LeRue hushed. “We can’t scour this entire building all night, we need a target location.”

Their commander seemed to mull over the question in his head, gears visibly turning before something clicked.

“The elevators. That’ll be our protocol rendezvous point for now.”

No sooner had he given the command when they turned a sharp corner into another hallway of which the ceiling had caved in, carving a hole straight down to the bottom level and ending their route on a dime. LeRue and Dorland cursed under their breathes, however Thomas quietly moved pushed into an open room with its door ripped off its hinges. From inside he could see a massive tear in the wall between where it dropped to an unknown destination.

“Through here.” He spoke quietly, signaling them to follow as he stepped towards the gaping maw of metal pipes and wooden beams. Peering below Ethan saw the inner makings of a bathtub and crushed tiles one floor down, the debris pile littering the floor large enough to form a soft landing. Against quiet objection Ethan jumped before the others caught up, ceramic chunks breaking into smaller shards under his weight as he easily maneuvered through the destroyed bathroom and out the door.

This was getting too easy, surely some addict hiding in this forsaken building would’ve found them by now. It was just too quiet for his liking. Even the more seedier parts of Metro city you could hear the more unhinged of the homeless muttering to themselves time to time. Preston Hotel was as silent as a grave tonight, and that rang more alarm bells then he’d felt comfortable with.

In no time they’d reached the third level elevators, Dorland in the middle of radioing for Rosa as LeRue and Thomas kept watch across two open entryways. Something caught their leader’s attention, who shined his light into Ethan’s face whilst growling under his breath.

“Mr. Thomas, survey the east side of the floor, LeRue and I will guard the elevator until you’re done.”

He scoffed, glaring at the other man with slight annoyance before briskly pushing past his commander down the corridor. Light from outside windows helped aid his vision through the shadows as he followed the curving walls, creaking floorboards threatening to cave against his shoes. Room after room more desolate than the previous, when he was certain nobody was nearby he pulled out a rectangular box from his back pocket. A nifty device so graciously given back to him by SCU, the Field Kit: Capable of three different usages, including a camera, UV light, GPS, and Spectrometer.

Flashes of blue ignited on the device’s main screen as Rosa’s face appeared on the top right corner, sitting patiently at her desk while greeting him with a smile.

“All right Ethan, I’ve uploaded your field kit with all we know so far. So let’s get started.”

Placing his back to the inner walls he motioned for his partner to continue, ID shots of Vanhorn appearing on his screen along with a soundboard.

“There were two gunshots heard in the recording, suggesting that we may be looking for two bodies, one being Vanhorn, the other a metro police officer. Signature overlays indicate both shots came from the same weapon: A .38 caliber handgun.”

Two bodies, great.

“Any officers reported in the area during the time of the call?”

He questioned as a sound coming from somewhere towards the end of the corridor caught his attention, slowly raising the loaded rifle while the woman on the other end hummed in acknowledgement.

“We’ve actually been informed that a Metro officer, Dennis Black, is no longer responding to anyone. Find him, he may need assistance.”

A stranded television set in the middle of the floor burst to life with erratic static, before the glass popped out of its socket spraying the ground in shards. He heard a scurrying sound from a room in front.

“All right, now for the second point of interest. While reviewing the recording I came across a distant rumbling noise in the background. It was faint, but when I cross-referenced the sample to known sources, I was able to narrow it down to a passing commuter train.”

He narrowed his eyes in the lightless room, where even the moon shining through the windows wasn’t bright enough to illuminate its hollowed place.

“Is there a commuter train that passes by the hotel?” He questioned. A moment of silence from her was all Ethan needed to listen to a manic chuckle erupt from inside a wardrobe closet.

“Yes, Metro Transit Rail passes by the North wing, narrow your search to that area.”

Sound advice, he’d need to inform the rest of the team after he was done with the half-naked, shrieking banshee of a man exploding from the closed closet doors, glinting syringe in hand aimed straight for Ethan’s jugular. Whipping his rifle up he let off a couple rounds, several shots landing into the lunatic’s shoulder spraying blood all over the room. Reeling back in agony, the bum’s ruined strike caused him to harmlessly slam full bodied into the former agent nearly sending them both to the floor. However, Ethan was quickly able to overcome his added weight and instead shoved his enemy away who fell limply on the carpet.

With a squeak the marred bum tried to stand for a second strike only to be met point blank with a heavy rifle bullet. As his enemy dropped more thunderous footsteps caused him to aim his gun at the worried expression of LeRue poking his head through the door. The fellow agent surveyed the scene before him, noticing the dead killer at Thomas’ feet before nodding in approval.

“Heard the whole thing.” LeRue spoke as he waved Ethan to follow behind, both hastily ushering back to the elevators. “Dorland said he’s got an idea on how to get to the hotel lobby.”

No sooner had they turned the corner he saw the agent of the hour with his back turned towards the two, steadily prying open the mechanical double doors.

“And what the hell are you planning on doing?” Ethan snapped.

Dorland growled without facing the other man. “Taking a short cut, now step back!”

His demand satiated, the agent slammed open the doors, allowing the group to see a metal ladder hanging on the wall where it would be behind the elevator. Unfortunately the ladder only went down halfway to the second level.

“I’ll go first, LeRue will bring up the rear.”

Leaving no room for debate, Dorland leapt over the gap and latched onto the ladder, sliding down with ease until stopping next to what Ethan presumed was the opening of the unseen elevator entryway right below them, as his fellow agent disappeared upon jumping into said opening.

“Your turn Mr. Thomas.”

Even with the static his radio did nothing to hide the sheer amount of distain within Dorland’s tone. Behind him LeRue groused in exasperation.

“What the hell is it with this asshole?”

Ethan merely spat, standing at the ledge of the opening.

“Just another one of Farrell’s finest, don’t act too surprised.”

Taking a calculated step back he bolted towards the open doors and heaved himself over the seven-inch chasm, slamming into the ladder causing it to rattle. Hands and feet positioned at the sides he slid downward until reaching his destination, not needing to turn in order to see Dorland’s scornful glare from behind, the looming shadow covering his backside just as threatening were the other man facing him eye to eye.

He doesn’t realize the ladder’s aged hinges have snapped off until he’s sent careening down a pitch-black shaft until bashing into soggy ground with a sickening thud, wind knocking clear from bruised lungs before he’s twisting to the side in avoidance of the falling ladder so it won’t puncture his ribcage.

“Are you hurt? Did you break anything?!” Dorland almost sounded sincere.

*Cough* “No, I’m good!” Ethan shouted clutching his side. Creaks from high above make his blood run cold, metal on metal bending and scraping against one another as LeRue’s panicked voice echoes on the radio.

“Shit, we’ve got a problem. Looks like the elevator’s ‘bout to come down!”

Too late, the giant mass of metal was already on its way down in record pace, adrenaline spiking Ethan yanked open the first-floor double doors with all his might and dived out just before the elevator came crashing on his head.

Huffing a breath of relief, he quickly got to his feet to survey the damage. The elevator had completely trashed the entrance, crushing both doors under its butt and leaving no room to crawl back inside.

“Mr. Thom….respo…” His radio crackled with static, voice on the other side crackly and warbly as if it were underwater. He pressed the button on its side and ground out, trying to keep his own voice to a minimum with the familiar sensation of being watched returning.

“I’m here, elevators trashed but I managed to land on the first floor. Hello? Dorland respond!”

“……sign of Eth…”

“Neg…these old…..shit on recep….”

That first voice belonged to Rosa. He clicked the button again, trying to get their attention. Although it appeared as though they weren’t getting his feedback.

“…Mr. Tho….us….Hot…Lobby…..“

‘Lobby’? Good enough for him. Looks as though LeRue would have to find a different way. Meanwhile Ethan had an arguably more tasking problem. Glass shattered in some unknown corner of the hotel he couldn’t see and human voices not belonging to either of his partners started yelling from behind paper thin walls, towards whom he’d yet to find out. To make matters worse he now realized his prized weapon was no longer in his hands, undoubtedly smothered under the mass that’d almost killed him seconds ago.

Shining his flashlight Ethan scanned the area around him, stopping at an arrow decorated on a corner wall marked with shredded words indicating in bold:

Hotel Dining/Front Exit.

Looks as though a hint of luck had finally been granted for once during this fucked up night. Careful to ease his steps he tip-toed away from the escalators and into a short room which was halfway cut across by a crystal wall. On the other side of the glass, rows of many tables with chairs stacked atop stood broadly across the room, until he could make out the exit door far on the adjacent side. Only issue was there was no way he could get into the dining room without smashing through its thickened glass barrier.

That was util he saw an entrance to the diner coming from the parallel hallway on his right, although it was chalked full of furniture blocking most of the pathway, already he could make out the open door entering the dining area awaiting him. No sooner had he entered the hallway, his senses were full on assaulted by a high-pitched ringing that cut through the air. Holding back an agonized scream Ethan covered both sides of his head as his vision swam, swaying side to side as the ear piercing sound continued.

Almost as a response, something burst from another room adjacent to the diner door followed by animalistic growling and unbridled fury. With an overhead lamp showcasing the hallway for all its filthy chemical-stained glory, into the light stepped in a burly hulk of a man, bigger then most of the addicts he’d encountered throughout his time as an officer. The newcomer screamed upon facing Ethan overturning a chair and shoving aside a bookshelf twice the goon’s size before bull rushing him in maniac fashion.

Ducking in time to avoid a mammoth fist aimed for his neck Ethan shouldered the gorilla in the ribs as he desperately tried to get a hold of his damaged senses. Raising his forearms to block an oncoming blow, he delivered a quick uppercut to the massive goon’s bottom jaw then followed by kicking a knee tripping the other off balance. Ethan parried another sloppy swing in order to box the addict straight in the nose, an ugly crack indicating he’d broken it.

With his enemy off balance he prepared another strike aimed towards the enemy’s exposed throat, only to be caught off guard by the homeless man’s hasteful recovery, rushing straight into the agent at full speed. His weight twice that of Ethan’s, the former officer was yanked off his own feet and eventually sandwiched into a thick wooden pillar, vision too hazy to resist a meaty hand snatching a fistful of his shirt and tossing him like a ragdoll into an open kitchen.

Stopping only when met with an unmoving concrete island, he coughed out the fire from within his lungs while shakily positioning himself up in a defensive stance as the rabid madman was upon him in seconds fist raised high over his shoulders. Leaping away from the hit, the crashing of smashed glass cups and porcelain dinner plates into pieces ringing almost as loud as that damned ringing, he back peddled until stumbling into a chest high food tray. The sound was unbearable now, he could barely see let alone think of anything other than fighting the instinct to tear out his own ears.

Unlike him through, instead of causing visible pain the vocal noise shredding the air apart seemed to further enrage the burly thug in front of him to point where he started screaming in a tone you’d expect from a rabid pit bull. Large arms flailed wildly in the air breaking overhead lights, knocking over shelves, and countless continents still standing after years of neglect.

Despite the limitation to his vision Ethan didn’t need much to understand the severity of the situation. Whatever life this man had, whoever he was before, was now only a memory. The person standing before Ethan was a mere shell of his former self, hollowed of what little humanity and self-consciousness he’d been gifted, replaced with a foaming mindless killing machine attacking anything it set its sights on.

This wasn’t any type of drug, not some mental illness to be treated, no this was something else. Something that’d held Metro City in a chokehold and refused to let go, something everyone just. Kept. Fucking. Ignoring.

Steeling himself through his blurry vision Ethan could barely make out a palm sized object to his left on the counter. Grabbing it by the handle he soldiered past the pain hammering away at his skull and marched towards the babbling lunatic too fixated in his mindless ranting to defend against a hand roughly grabbing him by one of his shoulders and connecting with a metal frying pan. Sputtering, the bloodthirsty thug tried to bring a chained wrist towards Ethan yet was halted by another whack of the pot on the backside of his cranium and then again on the cheek.

Voice garbled with blood and broken teeth the lunatic struggled to back away. The skillet in his hand no longer felt useful, so Ethan discarded it without thought using both palms to shove the flailing enemy with all his might. In return the thug sailed into the other side of the kitchen, crashing through the weak wall easily and overturning a hidden meth table exposed from his trip. Cylinders and liquid spilling over the floor/shirtless goon, his enemy quickly got back on his feet grasping desperately at his deeply injured face while glaring at Ethan through his fingers.

The ex-agent prepared for the oncoming fight, shocked by the thug’s decision to retreat beyond the broken walls.

He tried breathing to ease the pain etching across his ribs and torso, yet that fucking ringing was making it impossible to relax fully. Must’ve been somewhere close to the innards of this forsaken hotel, hopefully he’d find it soon.

Staggering out of the kitchen, back through the hallway, and into the diner he fastened his pace to the exit. He wanted this nightmare to end and get a simple drink.

A simple mercy the universe apparently held a grudge against, because no sooner had he’d opened the outside door, welcoming wintery fresh air, sounds of gunshots and roaring shouts rung out from the obscured front of the barricaded hotel. He couldn’t see anyone but the amount of visible limp bodies littering the ground like fucked up lawn gnomes indicated why most of the hotel had been near actionless for the past half hour.

Making his way up a small set of stairs leading to what once was a peaceful outer backyard, he followed the brick wall curving around the side of Preston Hotel towards the front door beyond a corner. And wouldn’t you know it, standing right above the wall up front was the one and only Metro Transit Rail, empty and devoid of any vessels. He was heading in the right direction.

Stepping over a fallen man in his way, Ethan stopped when his eyes located an object of interest. A handgun, half obscured underneath the mutilated body’s torso. Reaching down to yank it from its previous owner he instinctively tensed upon a shotgun shell slamming into the brick wall next to him, ducking and aiming for the offender. However the shot must’ve been miscalculated as a punk holding a sawed-off shotgun was busy scraping with another rioter in a Halloween mask, struggling in a game of tug-of-war.

Behind them three more stooges were trying to gang up on a bum carrying a submachine, who had already downed one of his attackers as the other two took their ally’s sacrifice as a chance to pummel him to a pulp.

He could try and wade through the chaos, as long as none of them deemed him a threat he’d be left alone to enter the hotel lobby. Unfortunately Metro City rioters never left survivors, anything in sight was a target no matter the situation.

Stomping towards the group of maniacs he raised his handgun and fired, exploding the original shotgun carrier’s temple which surprised the offending thief, who failed in picking up the dropping weapon. Big mistake, as he was met with a round of shells into his kidney and cheekbone.

Holstering the .45 he grabbed the fallen shotgun and marched to the rest of the goons. Whoever it was owning the submachine was nothing but a stain now, the other two former partners now tearing for each other’s eyes for position of the weapon.

He managed to hit the one on the right, causing Mr. pig mask to stagger in response to the bullet shrapnel. Unfortunate that a sawed-off shotgun was only useful for one hit without backup ammo, of which he was severely lacking. He clenched his jaw from an oncoming fist, using the thug’s own momentum to shove him into a stumble, too distracted to block the shotgun’s handle bashing his forehead.

Pulling out his handgun Ethan wasted no time, hitting right between the eyes turning his face into a fine mist. As the near headless body slumped against the brick wall, Ethan griped rubbing a bruised jawline.

“Fucking final-”

WHACK!

He let out a cry of pain as his shoulder blades were met with a shovel top, looking behind in time to dodge another swing from the bum who’d snuck up on him. Turning around he sent a fist into the feverish man’s chest, parrying a second strike, catching the shovel handle under his armpit, and booting his enemy until the weapon was out of the other’s grasp.

Charging forward he twisted the shovel handle until it was pressed firmly against the bums throat who’s resistance became stunted at the increased pressure working against his oxygen. This allowed the ex-agent to puppet the other man’s body until he tripped over his own feet, chest facing downwards on the hotel’s front raised tree bed. Lifting a boot just as the bum was attempting to rise, he shoved his foot down on the nameless man’s back, arms caving under the force and chin meeting with the stone bed.

An audible crunch resonated from the thug’s misshaped neck and life evaporated from his body.

Panting clouds of smoke from the chilled air, he surveyed his work before glancing at the entire front lot of the hotel. Looks as though he was late to the party, many more nameless thugs were crumpled all over, a clear sign this whole mess had taken place only moments ago.

He was ready to enter the double doors only to stop, a familiar sound catching his ear. Scowling he glanced back at the guarded brick wall concealing his viewpoint of the street beyond, however the faded sounds of more people screaming possibly beyond the towering buildings before him gave an inkling of what horror was about to occur.

Rioters, a whole horde of them. People who appeared out of the darkest corners and crevasses of the city simply for the sole purpose of ripping one another apart. At worse all of MCPD and SCU combined needed to step in for control, however luckily those instances were far and few between. Didn’t mean the more “tamer” riots were any less of a massacre. When the riot reached them they’d be surely and truly fucked. (It was never if, but of when.)

All more reason to get this over and done. Walking up the path to the lobby he winced once that damned ringing tuned in with a harsh resurgence, as though he were right on top of it…

He hadn’t the leisure to fully realize nor care for the lifeless body which dropped on the stairs beside him. Only after a curious whispering inside his head, wordless demands forcing him to stare upwards to finally see the instrument, or perhaps more accurately one such instrument, behind his suffering. A brownish-silver disk hanging off the second story rattling as various soundwaves echoed from its speaker.

Three rounds was all that was needed to break the device into chunks, each useless pieces raining on him with the sound ceased. Again, only from that particular disk, as he could very clearly hear more ringing coming from deep inside the building even at this position. How is it they didn’t hear this earlier, why now? Was he close to something someone didn’t want him poking his nose in?

Well tough shit for them.

He slammed through the front doors into the messy lobby, ignoring the amount of bodies counting more than hotel furniture as he scanned for any signs of life.

“Search team be advised that a surge of riot activity has been reported in your area and is heading for your area.”

Rosa’s voice, now not so garbled, nearly gave him a heart attack before clicking onto the respond button, though he held back a retort on knowing that particular info ahead of time.

“Copy that Rosa.” He sighed.

“Mr. Thomas. Where is your current-” Dorland’s exasperated tone cut into the radio yet was interrupted by Ethan’s own.

“Stop worrying, I’m in the main lobby.”

The silence gave him a moment to scout around for more inclinations of their intended target, pushing over torn tables and inspecting corpses. Freaks these days had a nasty habit of replacing dead officers’ clothes for their own in order to catch said victims’ former allies off guard. The left side of the lobby was blocked by racks and luggage carriers, unchecked, and lit up by a single bulb. It wasn’t too much of a pile up as the other various lobby exits, with a couple yanks he’d managed to pull aside one of the carriers crammed against the reception desk.

From there he easily recognized the uniformed heap lying right underneath the light, blood pooling around the dead man’s body. Stepping out of the small narrow space he knelt towards the lifeless form for examination, careful not to touch it. The bullet exit wound oozing from between the cop’s shoulder blades was clear as day.

“Rosa, come in. I think I’ve found Officer Black.”

“Alright, can you make out the badge number?”

Peering at a blood covered badge on the right arm he replied. “46.”

“That’s him alright.” Rosa confirmed in sympathy. “I’ll notify MPD, according to dispatch he’s been missing for almost two days now. Can you determine the cause of death?”

“Bullet wound. Directory’s straight through his chest. He bled out most likely.”

Ethan confirmed, looking away from the cop’s glassy eyes and turning towards the trail of blood tailing behind the body leading into an open hall.

“Affirmative. Poor guy, is there signs the body’s been moved, is this the crime scene?”

Leaving the fallen officer, Ethan pushed aside a plush couch as shadows covered the stained trail. Pulling out his Field Kit he switched through various settings until coming across his desired tool, the rectangular box illuminating a purplish fixture that revealed multiple unseeable chemical blemishes lining the carpet floor. Although his main interest was the consistent line trailing across the floor marked in dragging handprints, undoubtedly left behind from their victim.

“Black crawled his way into the lobby, I’m pursuing after his trail. Maybe that’ll lead me to the crime scene.”

“Roger that.”

Once again the area was suffocated in a heavy cloud of obscurity and nasty mixed smells, the trail curved alongside the many obstacles in his path, even maneuvering through a makeshift hole into what once was a fancy hotel room in order to pass by a toppled desk too heavy for even Ethan to lift on his own accord.

Inside one of the destroyed rooms he witnessed what was initially suspected to be another corpse spring back to life and shuffle madly from sight upon Ethan’s arrival. Entering and exiting the makeshift pathway he winced from the sharp ringing buzzing from somewhere in the floor above momentarily stunting his attention. Static crackled on his radio as he followed the UV spotlight into a destroyed laundry area.

“Jesus, is that… what is that?!” Dorland’s tone held a hint of pure disgust and bewilderment, though it was clear he wasn’t talking to Ethan.

“Well… It’s a body, but it ain’t Vanhorn’s” LeRue determined obviously just as bothered by whatever unholy sight this fucked place had granted them.

“Keep moving then.”

“Didn’t think meth could do that to somebody.”

“I don’t think it’s just the meth…”

“The fuck IS this shit then?”

“Who cares, stick to the mission!”

Just as he noticed the trail leading to an unknown open door, two pairs of needle thin arms wrapped around Ethan’s neck and pulled him in a chokehold, him dropping his device in surprise before backing into a corner wall desperate to shake the clinging lunatic off.

A final hard slam into a washing machine loosened his attacker’s grip granting him time to elbow the punk before shoulder tossing him off. Seeing his enemy in full, perhaps ‘man’ should’ve been used in lighter term, as the near stark naked addict crawling back into a pathetic fighting stance bore an appearance of a dehydrated skeleton. Jabbering an incoherent mess from his hideously pussed face, he flailed another one of those hidden chemical syringes in a wide stance, a hand grabbing the burlier man by his hair and aiming it for an eye.

Unfortunately the ex-agent held years of experience dealing with these kinds of cracked up monkeys, an expertly placed headbutt into the addict’s nose and a quick yank at the opposing weapon and the syringe was his.

“Come here you ugly sack of-”

Clutching his enemy’s head in a vice he rammed the needle deep into the punk’s eye socket, who shrieked in pain. Clawing away from the bigger man his enemy scrambled, holding his punctured eye socket whilst ping-ponging across the corridor in full retreat.

He didn’t need to watch him go to understand the maniac’s intentions, just as easily returning to the task at hand retrieving his fallen equipment and entering an employee room which surprisingly help its own small elevator.

What caught his attention was the massive splatter of blood staining the floor, but there wasn’t a body nearby that it could have come from. In fact, Dennis’s trail was leading away from it. A hole above said splatter helped piece the clues.

“The blood splatter fans outwards, so the victim must’ve dropped from the floor above.” Ethan mumbled to himself. With the elevator no doubt just as trustworthy as the last, he forced open the double doors and found a ladder obscure to his left.

“Rosa, I’m proceeding to the second floor.”

“Are you on to something?”

“Possibly.”

“Copy that, watch your back.” Despite the severity of the situation she sounded rather hopeful. Under better conditions he’d find himself smirking, Rosa still had the same convictions and heart for Metro’s future after everything that’d happened in the recent months. Too bad she was stuck following under the thumbs of a bunch of bastards probably leading her into circle after circle.

Once he’d entered the opening to the second floor and shimmied past the hole, he heard the distinct sounds of toppling doors and a crowd of screaming enter from the floor underneath. That could only mean one thing.

“Rosa! We’re hearing multiple gunshots coming from the floor under us, what the hell is going on down there?!”

“Satellite imaging shows that rioters have entered the building.”

“Damn it, we’ll need an air evac once the victim has been located.”

“Copy that, transport is on standby.”

For his part Ethan said nothing, listening to the numerous voices below muffled from the wood and concrete separating the floors as he continued following the trail.

____________

Tuns out most of the hotel occupants weren’t too happy with their stolen home being overrun by an unstoppable wave of rioters. Having run into three to four more homeless addicts by simply following Dennis’s blood trail was getting taxing. Nothing he couldn’t handle per say, but with their newfound courage/reasoning for finally removing themselves from their hiding holes definitely put an even more dangerous tone to his surroundings.

His pistol had run its short ammo dry faster than he’d desired, forcing himself to discard it after bludgeoning another lunatic to death with the thereby useless hunk of metal. Now holding a weak metal pipe found poking through the carpet floor, his grip tightened on the weapon as the boards creaked under his shoes.

Noise from downstairs hadn’t ceased with time, if anything it sounded as if the bloodthirsty crowd of rioters were steadily gaining in numbers. He’d known Malcom Vanhorn to be crafty and good at escaping dire situations, however considering the old man’s abnormally terrified voice from that recording this certainly didn’t tip any odds in his favor.

Just what did Vanhorn do to call him out of the blue like this? Eleven months since abandoning him near that fucking barn, no word or contact since, and suddenly the old man expected him to come dashing to his rescue whenever he was in a rut?

Fuck this, he shouldn’t be here. Leave Malcom to his fate, he deserved whatever was coming to him.

ETHAN. WAKE UP.

He nearly got whiplash turning around so fast, pipe raised, and flashlight aimed for whoever had the gall to breathe right in his ear. For a second he could swear he saw movement in the corners of his eye, something moving up the walls and into the ceiling faster than he had to react, misshapen forms darker than the shadows themselves scurrying out of sight with white eyes glaring in predatory hunger.

It took one blink, and they were gone, leaving only a barren hallway behind. Dragging a bandaged hand across his face he held in a groan from the familiar drumming inside his head before turning his back.

It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real.

Static swam in the air cutting off any other noise as that high pitched buzzing broke out again, the strength so volatile he clenched his fists until fingernails punctured through skin. Keeping his eyes open he forced himself forward, curving around a corner and stopping once taking a moment to recuperate.

Christ it felt so close he couldn’t tell if it was that disk that was ringing or his own abused ears taking it in. Backing against the wall he faced the right side clutching his aching temples, the new viewpoint showing him a closed bedroom door that seemed to be…shuddering?

Ignoring the increased pain once uncovering his ears, he brought a boot up and connected it with the wooden barrier, hard. it didn’t budge. Tightening his jaw Ethan tried again with even more force, the door still not moving, and pain spiked down his leg.

Shit, it was blocked!

An explosion of drywall, splintered beams, and hulking muscle came from his left, initial shock earning him a hefty brass knuckled punch which sent him down instantly. The bellow above him was accompanied by a beefy body with its body turned to the light darkening his front, he was lucky to catch the lifting foot poised dangerously over Ethan’s chest ready to slam downward with earth shattering force.

Dodging until he was side facing the mossy wall he tried getting back up when the offenders two hands grasped his side and hoisted him five feet up before tossing his body like it were nothing but a flimsy chew toy through the newly made hole into the closed bedroom were that damned humming device made its home.

Coughing out a lungful of scratchy dust and sharp debris he placed a hand on his knee to squint at both the form crawling back through its self-made hole after him and where he predicted that disk was. His metal pipe was gone, probably still out in the hall somewhere after the cheap shot.

He tried blocking the hit not having the luxury of seeing the shoeless foot stomping on his head pressuring it on the ground. Whoever this was, they were loud and really fucking heavy, if the disk’s noise didn’t kill him sooner, this monster’s heel would. What a waste, all this time trying to find out the culprits of Metro’s rioting problems, his backside a target for stabbing, blood and sweat spent wallowing in those grime filled bars until finally having some slice of a silver lining come in the form of Malcom’s idiocy only for him to die here before he even found the old man.

As the horrific thought began to sink in, he felt something snap. Humiliation mixed with an underlying boiling point of rage that’d been suppressed for months, burning fury he knew if he’d lose control of, there’d be no telling what he’d do. And right now he was finding this scenario to be truly testing each molecule of abstinence possible, a distinct cloud of fog webbing over his mentality and covering his eyes like a protective seal.

The sensations, pain, betrayal, untethered fury threatening to break through his mental barrier were nigh too much to steady and in one swift motion he’d rocketed his chest off the floor. His trajectory sent the large nameless enemy flying onto his own backside in disbelief, as the ex-agent refused to let neither the ringing device or attacker gain the upper hand again he stomped over to grab what felt like a collar bone and a fistful of greasy hair and heaved it high. Adrenaline surging he took the opposing kicks and scratches with disregard while lifting the fallen enemy head up as they neared the shrieking device obscured in shadows. Bringing his quarry in a propped position he interrupted the thug’s mid-sentence garble of a plea by thrusting it into the direction Ethan was certain would make its mark.

With an ungodly combination of crunching bone and metal, that agonizing sound vaporized from the air just as fast as it came, a fleeting sensation of bliss for his splitting headache before the second irritation decided to rear back its ugly face. Parrying another swipe he dive into the crook’s stomach sailing them both back out into the lightened hall, the bum’s back hitting the opposite side in air puncturing force then shoving Ethan off.

Both men collapsed under their feet, the nameless bum continuing to jabber incoherent profanities and Ethan rolling to his side in order to sit back up. When his fingers grazed familiar rustic material he thanked whatever God was watching for small favors and forced himself upright to meet the other.

Now in a different stance he finally got a decent point of view at his arising adversary. It was that same mindless beefy gorilla who’d ambushed him near the kitchen his chin and right eye swollen shut, now pinpricked in metal/glass shards cutting through his ashen skin leaking blood everywhere. Not that it mattered, as the bum could only focus on the sane man in front of him, who he bore every inclination in his body to rip apart or die trying.

Palms slamming the floor the thug once again rushed in a shoddy attempt to body slam, of which Ethan thrusted one of his arms outwards showering a previously unseen clump of miniature litter and trash into his enemy’s bloodshot eyes. The bum all but skid to a halt screaming at the sensitive feeling of dozens of unclean debris stabbing into his iris’s not prepared for a metal pipe to catch him in the nose.

Foe distracted Ethan rushed behind to deliver a swift heel into the thug’s upper calf crumpling most of his frame until the back of his skull reached Ethan’s stomach. Clutching the metal pipe on both ends he rotated it over his enemy’s head lining it against the throat and pushed back. One knee jamming into the gargling brutes spinal cord proved enough of a sturdy hold as he began to choke the life out of the person below him.

A technique proved more strenuous than he’d anticipated when the nameless brute regained his very own source of adrenaline and preceded to elbow and sway everyway imaginable to break free from the chokehold. Ethan growled trying to keep up with the other’s erratic movements yet was ultimately caught off guard by a shrill scream echoing off somewhere downstairs, however what truly made him falter was the fact that unlike the rest of the yowling roars of rage and mindless fury he’d been subjected to all night this one sounded different. Though muffled he could catch a distinct amount of despair and hysteria stemming from its origin, why did its speaker sound so young?

Detecting the temporary lax in Ethan’s hold, his enemy quickly rammed both elbows into the other man’s crotch causing him to retreat from his tactic a couple steps in pain. Whipping around the madman extended an exhausted punch which was sidestepped easily and instead met with drywall causing a fist shaped gap to ruin its already unkept exterior. Vision going red at the patterned futility of his own unprofessionalism, the meaty bum yowled in unkept wrath, flinging himself like a pebble from a slingshot through the air.

Thus he was purely unable to prevent one arm grabbing his wrist and another by his belt buckle, flipping him mid air and crashing to the floor. As the bum attempted to rise he was met by an offending metal pole resulting in him grabbing Ethan’s face with one palm.

Struggling to pry the fingers from his vision, the ex-officer tried to swing again yet barely made a graze as the calloused arm gripped tightly around his face pushed him further away to provide room for another sit up. Leaving the hand wrapped around him alone he alternatively booted the criminal in the eyes, a distraction enabling him to remove the palm and propel the edge of the pipe into the side of his enemy’s neck.

A disgusting squelching sound followed, and his face was practically slapped in accordance to a recuperating hand. Backing up Ethan raised his fists despite himself instantly understanding the damage, simply looking to see that the fight was done.

The bum lay stomach up on the carpet, gurgling as he helplessly tried removing the rustic pipe jammed tightly into his neck. But it was all for not, choking on massive amounts blood and lack of oxygen gave him a merciful twenty seconds before his body slumped. That coppery stench was not unfamiliar, however that wasn’t to say Ethan took any delight in both smell and sight.

Cracking his neck he relaxed himself, huffing when he tried breathing in deep only to be met with a surge of pain in his kidneys. Though the immediate threat was gone, this building was still a mine field, especially considering the rioters down below.

Retrieving his fallen field kit he scanned over the fresh body, struggling to retract Black’s trail and deduce how far he’d still need to travel. And wouldn’t you know it, the trail actually ended. Beyond the bum’s corpse one door down he could see the trail lead to a closed off room.

Limping over to his target, Ethan soon stood next to a closed wooden door marked with a welcoming exit splatter of a bullet. Crimson coloring its surface and telltale police cap lying crooked on a chair beside him gave plenty of evidence.

“Rosa it’s me again, I’ve got more evidence.” Hopefully she wouldn’t notice the aching wheeze behind his tone.

“Is it related to the victim you found earlier?”

He picked up the hat for inspection, recognizing the seal on the cap before taking a closer look at the bullet hole. He could see the casing stuck inside its wood, their killer must’ve been right on top of Dennis to get a shot from this angle. Something hard shuffled under the lose pile of trash and papers at his feet, finding interest he bent downward and stuck a hand through its contents. Cold steel brushed his fingertips, and he pulled out the unseen gun.

“I’ve got a gunshot exit splatter on the second floor, room 212. Blood’s not too fresh but old enough to fully sink into the wood. Also got our officer’s cap and handgun, I’d say this is evidence enough.”

“Good work Thomas!” A far-off voice on the radio, LeRue, applauds in alleviation. Rosa continues.

“If the killer shoots his first victim: Black, then seconds later shoots Vanhorn, Vanhorn’s body must be nearby, perhaps in an adjacent room!”

Noting his newfound weapon his already loaded, Ethan grips in in his hand before scanning the door. Most of its locks have broken off and there was an ever-present silence coming from the room. Harshly thrusting his boot forward splinters and shrieks of shredded material echoed out as he stepped inside.

It was like staring into a black hole, not a single light penetrated the shadowy room, the windows were so tightly boarded he’d bet even the sun couldn’t burn through. He knew it was quiet from standing outside but now that he had one foot in it was beginning to seep in just how underestimated that description was.

The only miniscule sound he got in return was a petite whisper of suffocated air that’d been imprisoned in this tomb for who knows how long finally fleeing into the rest of the hallway. Thicker and coated in heavy copper, if this was where Malcom’s called him than by the looks of it his chances had taken a nose dive.

“Vanhorn!” He called in agitation, stepping further into the room with his pistol aimed. No answer, he tried breathing through his mouth as the putrid smell of decay further interloped his sinuses. Kicking over what he’d guessed was small furniture he tried searching the room with his flash, finding it unsurprisingly stripped of any hotel esc appliances or bodies.

“Malcom its me, Ethan! If your alive get your sorry ass out here now!”

He took another accidental whiff, attempting to get use to the smell while approaching a blackened object on the right side of the room. The closet he was sure. However said whiff got him to stop in his tracks just as his hand grasped the closet knob, perking his nose again to confirm.

The smell was stronger on the right side of the room.

He thrusted open the closet door and shined his flashlight inside simply to determine there wasn’t anything of interest before peering at another closed door next to him. It must’ve been one of those entryways leading to a neighbor’s quarters, and the smell was coming from inside.

He reached for the lock yet found nothing there, prompting him to gently push the handle less entry open and step into room 211.

Ugh, it was putrid. He held back a gag crawling up and braced himself, instantly drawn to the bed sized divot shredded through the middle of the room, something alit in glowing orange. Preparing himself for the worst he peered over the hole and damn straight felt himself exhaling in astonishment.

“Jesus.”

Through absolutely blanketed in thickened blood, there was no doubt the corpse below him was none other than Vanhorn. Well, if you could even refer to it as a corpse anymore. Metal rebar had been thrust through the elderly man’s palms decoratively, blood-drawn eyeballs encircling both the body and walls around it, displaying Vanhorn as if he were some Goddamn cultish sacrifice. From his vantage point he could still get a clean view of the cut open stomach and various innards on display, from his trachea all the way down to the buckled brown trousers.

Holding in a breath Ethan hopped down into the room, landing perfectly next to the body before standing up giving the room a once over. No area was untouched, drawn eyeballs glared at him in every direction all leading up to the magnum opus, a sentence scrawled that he’d none the respect of repeating.

“Rosa…” Ethan had to hold back a gag. “…I’ve located Vanhorn. Although he’s not gonna be answering any questions anytime soon.”

“Excellent! Good job Ethan.”

“Mr. Thomas what’s your location?”

Cue Dorland, he frowned glancing around for a source. Brushing by the body and skipping past the door over to the left side, his eyes eventually landed on a small receipt placed on a candlelit desk. That would explain all the Chinese boxes lying around.

“I’m in room 119”

“Copy that, we’re on our way. You’re not to touch anything until we arrive.”

The order was heard but not acknowledged as he stepped back to the crime scene, glancing down at Malcom, an expression of unadulterated horror forever plastered on the elder’s face looking back, Ethan scowled.

“Damn you. You didn’t deserve this but damn you to hell Malcom.”

Who could have done this? Stupid question, Metro City was crawling with deranged serial killers like it was a breeding ground. The more important question is who precisely did the old man piss off to warrant his upside-down crucifixion in pleasing Satan?

Most of the big-name killers who once plagued Metro, The Roadside Carver, Polaroid Killer, The Match Maker to label a select few were gone, all killed by a monster even bigger than them. Nowadays it was copycats or stab happy greenies trying and failing to make a name for themselves, however nothing to this degree.

The only one he’d known his entire life to make this brutal of a murder was… No. No, he wouldn’t allow himself to fall into another paranoid delusion when he was already struggling with others. Ethan looked at the scrawled writing again, a sick twisted feeling knotting his stomach. He’d seen that fucker die with his own eyes, he’d been right there.

Taking his eyes off the horrid sight he began searching for clues, hopefully the distraction would help stave his growing anxiety. The entryway was noticeably blocked by a couch, which on all accounts didn’t make any sense, if the killer wanted some ‘privacy’ to have the room to themselves that was at least possible, but the hole above was far too high and steep to climb out of again. The phone Vanhorn has used to call had long vanished, taken by his killer no doubt.

“Ethan, in the meantime make sure to send me two pictures of the body, one of them a close up of the victim’s face.”

Taking his field kit he angled the camera at the torso and snapped a quick photo, quickly leaning to snap another for the silently screaming face when his eyes stopped on one particular spot. Intestines and organs at this range was sadly something he’d been used to, but typically he’d only look as long as he needed to usually leaving the rest to the forensics team.

However, he couldn’t help but slowly come to a realization that there was some form of inward divot in the chest area, as if there’d been a weight placed on the slimy portion. Did the killer sit in the stomach whilst doing his work, if so then there had to be…

He removed the kit and unholstered his weapon whilst jumping up. Prints. There was a set of small shoe prints leading to the closed bathroom. Carefully easing his steps, Ethan pressed himself against the wooden frame holding his breath for a better chance at hearing any noise.

And he did, it was incredibly hushed though, but he could make out a patterned commotion coming from inside. Not manic laughter or angry ranting of the sort no, it was crying. Lips pursed he steeled himself and yanked open the door, brushing past the sink and toilet to find the culprit sitting in the tub.

They visibly jumped in response to his erupt entrance, puffy eyes full of an innocence the man hadn’t seen an age meeting his cold ones. It was a young girl, easily in her early twenties dressed in a dull yellow and brown, her entire backside absolutely drenched in blood. Some of it caked in the mop of pinkish hair possibly spray painted.

Just catching sight of him made her look as though she were on the verge of a fatal heart attack quickly turning her gaze away and folding her head into her arms in a defensive position. Ethan Thomas had been in SCU longer than anyone could remember, a beat cop before too, he was fairly certain he’d know a killer when he saw one.

She certainly didn’t fit the part, however that didn’t overrule the fact that she was a suspect. It was possible she’d hid in here to avoid the rioters, but the stain on her back arose skepticism, he’d need to take this with extreme caution.

“Rosa…” He said, tuning in his radio. “…I’ve got a civilian.”

Abandoned angel

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What was she thinking? Simple answer really: she wasn’t.

That little job fell to Twilight, who was currently leading all six of them up a steep sloped mountain, across hazardous terrain, towards the top where a resting dragon lay sleeping. Below their hooves, (of which she refused to look), almost all of ponyville was fogged over by a cloud of black smoke said dragon was either knowing or unknowingly fumigating from his snores.

And princess Celestia herself had tasked them to put a stop to it. Them; plural.

Now, reasonably Fluttershy could see why; her and her friends just recently being officially titled as the now guardians of Equestria. What she couldn’t understand was why this task required all six of them specifically.

Twilight, Rainbow Dash, Applejack, Pinkie Pie, even Rarity all seemed rearing to go from the start. But her? She’d nearly tripped over her hooves after a scare from her own shadow just seconds ago. Everypony knew of her talent for taking care of any and all wildlife, although by ‘taking care of’, meant treating the critters with the respect and kindness they deserved like anypony else.

But a full-grown dragon? Spike was different, he was a baby, he was kind and full of such beautiful spirit to help others. Most dragons held no beliefs, instead often resorting to awful and mean-spirited actions simply for the fun of it. She held no ground in this situation.

At least, she thought so. Twilight on the other hoof, had made it perfectly clear the Pegasus would be needed during this venture, thinking her compassion and empathy would steer their temporary ‘neighbor’ towards a different resting place.

All day she’d reeling in shock and skepticism, why the unicorn held so much unshaken faith in a pony who was doing her best to bolt back down this mountain trail faster than Rainbow on Cider season.

Speaking of, Fluttershy saw the same skepticism in her coltfriend’s eyes when it was decided the yellow Pegasus would be of help. Several times she’d heard RD whisper in their defacto-leader’s ear, caught the annoyed tone in RD’s voice whenever she’d point out an otherwise obvious danger, see the roll in the older Pegasus’ eyes during some rather embarrassing moments.

If her own best friend held doubts, what did that say for Fluttershy herself? Why was she here, what purpose aside from slowing the others down did she serve?

Somepony calling her name had her jumping near five feet into the air before soothing her rapid beating heart to glance at the six in front. One positive was seeing how self-assured they all looked, ready to face indescribable dangers for the sake of ponies they both did and didn’t know. It would be okay, so long as she stuck in the background.

As long as she had her friends, she was going to be okay.

____________________

“Transport is on its way, seven minutes.”

“Great, so what’s the plan? Wrap ‘Picasso’ here in a sheet and carry him out the door eyeballs deep in rioters?”

“You see any sheets in here? We carry the body out the window, head for the commuter tracks, and get enough distance from the crowd as possible. According to Rosa, the riot is heading further south down the street, we’ll have the perfect chance to find the track stairs. Anything is possible though, so be prepared.”

“Okay, so let me get this plan straight in my head; try and outrun about a hundred coked maniacs on foot whilst carrying a gutted old man’s corpse. Average day at the office. And the girl?”

The two armored men glared in her direction; Well, the leader did. The dark-skinned man, whose name she caught as Le Rue, carried a more approachable, if only slightly softer vibe compared to the three in total. She shrank back trying to appear as small as possible under Dorland’s cold scowl, until his unhappy expression turned upwards.

“Mr. Thomas. You’ll be the one escorting the suspect.”

Behind her, another male who’d been looming in the corner of the room following the duration of her interrogation, scoffed at the demand.

“Sure thing, Dorland.”

It didn’t take a genius to pinpoint the palpable animosity between Dorland and Thomas. From the get-go, since arriving in the room, the leader of the three men had made certain to shove their odd-man-out to the wayside. She had no clue as to the origin of their grudges, and frankly she was hard-pressed not to get in the middle of it for once. Once it’d been made unofficially clear she wasn’t a threat, she’d been more than happy to sit and keep quiet.

Although, not to say there weren’t plenty of her own questions hovering over her head, most of which involved the one male still watching her. Whilst Dorland and Le Rue wore the appearece of something akin to police or guard officials, Thomas was the sore thumb. His entire appearance was about as raggedy and unkempt as the street bums she’d encountered in the earlier hours following now. Not to mention his decision to-

She must’ve squeaked when an unfriendly hand grabbed her shoulder, because both Le Rue and Dorland looked in her direction funny. A low growl came from above her.

“Move.”

Choosing to hold her words inside, Fluttershy inches forward whilst the two in front start breaking through the plywood and pick up the horrifically disfigured body in their arms. Her expression matches Le Rue’s verbal discomfort as she’s pushed to follow behind.

When she climbs up through the window, once again her new body shivers against ice cold wind and snow attack her exposed face. Unfortunately, she’s not given the liberty to so much as consider instinctively reeling back from the discomforting feeling because Thomas makes his point to stay mere inches behind; forcing her commit to the act of finally exiting a building she hated so much, yet was the first providing shelter for temporary protection.

This new body should’ve come with a hat.

Outside is not quiet as she’d hoped, the sounds of humans fighting to the death a mere block away echoes off the walls of enclosed alleys making it seem as though she’s standing in the middle of it all. Silently the group makes their way down the path and towards the street, which had previously been a bum battlefield only hours ago. Her knees threatened to give in simply by looking at it, a tempting desire to run in an opposite direction where it not for her assigned guard to keep roughly pushing her ahead. Dorland makes a gesture and motions for a nearby staircase leading up to the towering tracks above their heads. Although truthfully, she’s unsure whether it will provide them enough distance and advantage from any potentially watching crazies or not.

Speak of the devil; right as the two men carrying the body take the first few steps, over to an adjacent alley several men are tearing at one another in animalistic fashion. The group hasn’t been spotted yet, so normally she’d count that as a win and keep moving, however she find herself rooted.

Watching these people fighting, more like killing each other for no apparent reason made her… well, she didn’t know how best to describe the churning emotions in her heart and stomach.

A fatal error on her end, one false step and she crumbles to the floor fast, pain only a fleeting concern soon replaced when the sound of her bones hitting hollow metal catches the attention of several extra eyes. There wasn’t a second of hesitation for the previously brawling thugs to abandon their hatred for each other and barrel towards the foursome in a united pack. Her arm is hoisted up by Thomas, who began dragging her close beside him as Le Rue and Dorland sped up the stairs. Several times her feet tripped, damaging her injured legs further with each fall as the man above growled in annoyance in his task to keep her moving.

Once they reached topside, hopping down the stand where passengers usually waited and onto the very rails themselves, she took a quick look to make certain they were still being followed. Yep, and by some universal measure of misfortune the pack of tailing crazies had doubled.

She hardly noticed how easily she ripped her arm away from Thomas’ iron grasp much to his surprise, and sped her pace into a full sprint. None complained, all trying to outrun their pursuers as best they could. Greyish towers blurred by her as she ran, the only source of focus being her tunnel vison on what lied ahead and her own heart pumping energized blood into her body. The two in front had surprisingly gained a fair distance despite their baggage, enough for Dorland to finish demanding for transport and spin around, aiming a metal weapon she didn’t like the implications of.

Several agonizingly loud pops rang out as several unspeakably fast things whizzed by her head, followed by grunts of men in pain from the back. None sounded like Thomas, so she needn’t worry much. Eventually, Dorland seemed to gain an epiphany, raising his weapon to the far left where only a few short pops echoed out again before blinding light flashed in her face. She was taken off her feet by the shockwave, falling to the floor painfully fast alongside others, one of which was Thomas himself. Were it not for the metal guard gate on the railway’s edge, he would’ve been flown off the tracks entirely.

Pain caused her head to spin, nausea threating to grow as a result whilst she groggily lifted her body off the uneven rails. It wasn’t enough to not catch Dorland and Le Rue continuing to bolt, making their escape from the fire standing between them and the rioters. To the right, Fluttershy saw a metal box where the raging fire birthed from, blue sparks radiating from broken telephone wires dangling uselessly from the explosion. A smart move on Dorland’s part, one issue though…

Like her, the others who’d briefly fallen in response to the shockwave were also getting back to their feet. In the corner of her eyes, Thomas groggily shook his head, now too noticing the dilemma the abandoned duo faced. His sneering expression aimed in the direction of his former companions shifts to the rising thugs who match his glare. By pure instinct, she shifts over until her smaller frame is hidden behind his. Were she still a Pegasus, or if her new wings would work properly, she might have been able to provide a better solution them both.

“Fuck.” Was all that whispered from Thomas’ mouth.

There wasn’t much she could do besides hide behind her “protector” who was squaring up against the rising thugs. That was until he turned to face her, expression clear he’d momentarily forgotten her presence, taking this chance to give a once over of their current surroundings. Behind them the fire had grown uncontrollably high, whereas most of the pathway in front of them was blocked by barely conscious thugs, and there were no stairs for them to climb down either.

Him and her both were completely stranded.

Thomas made no hesitation parrying a sudden swing from one of the more alert rioters, her temporary ally flooring the attacker instantly. Three more men advanced, already another bloody fight taking off as the young woman kept herself out of viewpoint.

There had to be something she could do, anything at all!

Still making any attempts not to be seen, she tried flexing the bones of her wings Thomas had forced her to hide underneath her jacket before Dorland and Le Rue arrived at the beginning of their introduction. Why he’d demanded such a thing had utterly confused her; unfortunately lack of time, mental capability, and overall this entire horrific ordeal altogether offered little chance to ask such or any questions.

Thomas doesn’t appear to struggle too much despite the noticeable difference in number, one attacker shrieking in agony as his jaw dislocates from a well-aimed uppercut. If anything, she’d be nothing but a shackle to her ally were she to involve herself now. He’d be an excellent royal guard, were it not for his nasty attitude.

Sticking to the perimeter of their surroundings, she desperately scanned for anything of use. Towering scrapers aligning the sides of the high-rise commuter tracks were close per say, but not close enough to reach without one hell of an extra spring in your jump.

No matter how much she flexed, the muscles within her wings refused to cooperate even after she somehow managed to shimmy them out through the jacket’s makeshift holes. She twitched, if it weren’t for the abundance of clashing noises all around her, she could swear deep within her ear drums that familiar ringing had returned.

Though despite this, she was able to catch the sound of breaking glass from high above, craning her neck upwards to see a large assortment of blurred objects fly from the seventh-story window of a neighboring hotel. It was an assortment of noticeably heavy items, big enough to shatter the thin metal gate guarding the sides of the rail system.

Backing away as to not get squashed underneath, she watched in bewilderment as a heavy plank of wood landed perfectly in between the edge of the track and on the guard rail of a neighboring complex’s balcony. A makeshift bridge to safety.

She felt a presence arriving from behind and turned, half expecting to see Thomas. Instead standing before her was a young man whose face was fully wrapped in ugly black tape, presumably to hide his features. However, the bloodlust in his gaze was enough to tell here everything she needed to know about him.

Without warning, two arms shot up unimaginably fast to grab and squeeze her lanky throat with all his might. Instantly what little air she held was eradicated in response to the amount of constrictiveness from having caught her so off guard. So much so, that she hadn’t the oxygen left to utter a whimper of protest whilst clawing at the man’s thick jacket in desperation. Just as her vision began to blur, a loud crack of lead-against-bone followed by the thug’s meaty hands releasing her without any resistance left her in a dazed state of confusion.

Throwing the useless pipe to the wayside, Thomas hoisted her over his shoulder and bolted across the bridge leading into the complex, making sure to kick it off balance so they couldn’t be followed.

Several men who weren’t fighting screamed in outrage at their escaping prey, a few even attempting to jump the gap only to helplessly plummet to their own demise. The blurry world around Fluttershy changed once Thomas made landfall into the apartment complex, dusty grey clouds replaced by barely functioning lights illuminating molded rooms and furniture.

The lights dim as he steps into the trashed hallway of the complex before settling her down against a ply board. Jutting a finger at her, he speaks lowly.

“Don’t move.”

That said, he quickly hops in and out of the available rooms aligning the level, as if making certain they’re temporarily alone for now. Once satisfied, he stands over her prone form, folding his arms tightly. She doesn’t appreciate the look he’s giving her, yet there’s an impression her opinions do not matter at the moment.

“Can you walk?”

She doesn’t meet his eyes, focusing instead on her dirtied shoes. The blood from his hands, courtesy of the men he’d battered, stains through her yellow jacket alongside a putrid smell.

“Hey. I’m talking to you.”

Suddenly he’s at her level, bending down and narrowing his dark brown eyes into her teal blue. Up close she resists the urge to gag, a combination of alcohol and lack of oral care huffing in her face, not to mention he smelled like he’d just crawled out of Froggy Bottom Bogg. His skin was an unhealthy shade of pale with various new and old scars now visible from this short distance, all resting underneath the strings of slick black hair which mopped the top of his dome. This human looked as though he was on the verge of death itself, were it not for the blazing inferno lit in his eyes. Whether it was directed at her or not was unclear at the moment, she nevertheless felt the need to speak carefully as to not get burned by said flames, either intentionally or by accident.

“Yes.” She nodded vigorously, the surprise from her confident tone of voice only slightly concerning her. “Yes, I can.”

“Good.” He wastes no time grabbing the young woman by the forearm and once more hauling the her as though she were a simple ragdoll.

“W-where are we going?” She cautiously peeks inside several rooms they pass, whatever plan he has foreign to her.

“Dorland ordered transport, by this point the chopper’ll be here in two to three minutes.” He gruffed, leading her into the fire escape.

Looking up at the flight of stairs, she felt a shiver crawl up her spine when several muffled unspecified noises reverberated from the floors above and below, signifying they still were not alone.

“T-then why are we heading up the stairs?” She whimpered, legs turning to putty as the noises grew louder. Thomas groaned to himself, not hiding a solitary inch of his obvious frustration.

“Because those two assholes are still on the tracks with Malcolm’s body. We’ll have a better chance being seen from higher up rather than down below if you don’t stop dawdling. And unless you want to fly us up to that chopper yourself, this is the best way.” He turns after his sentence, motioning to her wings with a pointed finger.

“Speaking of which, why the fuck do you have them out? I thought I told you to keep them hidden! When we find a place to stop, put them back under your jacket.”

She shriveled under his glower, zipping her mouth closed despite even more questions arising in response to his outburst.

Earlier, when they’d first encountered each other in the hotel bathroom, she’d expected him to kill her much like the rest of the people she’d managed to escape thus far. Oh, he wasn’t pleasant nor patient by any stretch of measure, enough to make Grandpa Gruff seem like an elder with a rock in his shoe in comparison. Once he’d laid eyes on her wings though, it’d gotten even worse.

He’d gotten quieter, trading his louder demands into lower pitched ones. It was honestly terrifying, how he made her hide them from his other two teammates. It wasn’t as though she had a choice whether or not to trust his intentions. For now, the three men weren’t set on murdering her in cold blood compared to everyone else, so she would take what she could get; even if it meant she was now suspect for a murder so foul she wouldn’t be able to sleep alone for the next five-to-ten years.

She pawed at her ears, a nervous tick to calm herself from the growing ringing sound which had definitely grown louder at this point. She swore the shake of Thomas’ head wasn’t solely based on another one of his scrutinizing reactions to her unease, mumbling incoherent words under his breath as they marched upwards. By the seventh level, their passage further was blocked due to an unimaginable pile of garbage, the amount of which she questioned how someone could manage to stiff so much into a thin space; and more importantly why.

Her escort didn’t appear bothered in the least, simply opening the door leading into the seventh-floor hallway and dragging her along towards the separate set of stairs on the other side.

For most of her life from filly-to-marehood, Fluttershy had not been one for social conversation. Even if you were to bring up anything remotely related to wildlife, it’d still take one-to-two more tries for her to finally engage in the discussion. Not without lack of trying though, ever since meeting Twilight and helping the other girls on that fateful Summer Sun Celebration night, progress had surely been made; she was more confident in her voice, a louder and bolder speaker instead of being the doormat everypony from filly-hood had once known.

There were still some kinks to work out, not that she necessarily disliked her awkward personality enough to change it completely. But in moments of crisis, in times of battle, that job was usually handled by somepony else. She was comfortable being the support that nopony needed.

Long story short, she was desperate for an icebreaker, to get on better terms with the stranger she was currently entrusting with her very life with. Unfortunately, every available opportunity would be trampled to dust whenever she caught his gaze, as if the more she talked steadily shortened the fuse of his limited temper.

Left, right, above, and below aged wood creaked under the running feet of unseen occupants. Fluttershy felt her heart seize up as several banging noises came from the upper level, furniture being thrown about in the wake of several men fighting above their heads on the eighth floor. She leaped forward and clung onto the tattered long sleeve of Thomas’ arm when a sickening crunch ended whatever fight was occurring from earshot. To her surprise, the man was warm to the touch, despite the dusty clothing he wore and the thick layers of gauze wrap protecting his palms and wrists. She would fret over the blood-stains later, at this point all she required was some form of balance that wasn’t a lifeless object to steady herself from toppling over her shaking knees.

He tenses under her touch. Low rumbling vibrated from the human’s chest in response, her one and only warning.

She takes a step back immediately, smoldering her yearning for physical contact, and tucks her free arm inward to try and keep herself calmed by the feeling of her own warmth. Two minutes, three feet away from the exit and she collides into the man’s burly backside; he’d stopped so suddenly she hadn’t the time to prepare.

Strangely enough, he didn’t react much to her collision this time, instead keeping his eyes trained on a room adjacent to them. Now, considering the type of people she’d come into contact with over the past few hours, Fluttershy would be willing to bet whatever it was that was currently garnering that look from a man who could challenge Tirek’s scowling façade, wasn’t something she’d be willing to stick around with.

Ever so gently she tapped him with her fingers, afraid anything rougher on her part would irk him into an unpredictable tangent. A few more taps caused her to give up, holding in a deep breath as she inched towards the doorway to peek inside the room which held his captive gaze.

Like everywhere else the small corner was not spared from decay, caved walls and upturned furniture replacing what once was decent. However, square in the middle was a person. No, not a person. Squinting her eyes, Fluttershy could make out the plastic carvings around the eyeless being, recognizing it as a mannequin dressed in an aged tux outfit. Standing upright in a stiff position, she had to admit it was understandably creepy here all on its lonesome.

Turning back to Thomas, she noticed how he eyed the lifeless being like a hawk. There was familiarity in his expression, as if he was struggling to believe the mannequin really was just that, before he caught her from the bottom of his tunnel vision. Shaking his head, he mumbled more incoherent nonsense and set himself back on track without another word, taking her up to the next level as if nothing happened.

She couldn’t take it anymore, her mind was buzzing, body exhausted, and right now undoubtedly the most terrified she’d been throughout all her life. Forget the possibility of being heard, this eeriness was killing her!

“E-excuse me…”

Through practice, her words as of late stood above whispers and murmurs, yet not enough to receive any responses. Clearing her throat, Fluttershy tugged on her captive wrist. He simply held it tighter without so much as a sideways glance.

“E-Excuse me. I have a few questions.”

“Save it for the station.”

His immediate response was harsh, blunt. A part of her was offended, if not more on edge. They were in danger, but by Celestia did she want answers.

“Why didn’t you tell them?” She spoke louder, trying to keep up as they entered the eighth-floor hallway due to the stairs having collapsed fully towards roof level. That accursed ringing was starting to give her another headache. “Why did you make me hide my wings?”

Still he refuses to provide an answer, instead shoving her in front before a block of concrete the size of her head comes crashing down on her previous position, having been tossed from an opening in the attic where another thug stands, ranting after he’s missed his target before bolting from sight. The ringing is worse than ever, she clenches her teeth with tears in her eyes as Thomas lifts her by the hoodie to drag her towards their destination. He too, is not spared from the horrific sound from the looks of it, wincing and clutching his dome in pain as he charges onward.

Soon it becomes neigh impossible to bear, and she’s unceremoniously dropped, laying on the floor now as Thomas abandons her in order to enter another room. Whimpering when the sound begins to physically hurt, Fluttershy crawls after him in desperation. Through her blurry vision she captures him struggling to make his way to a pile of several miscellaneous propped against a wall; shoving it aside to reveal underneath a strange brown disk that’d been hiding. Sonic waves could visibly be seen transmuting out from its multi-layered body, accompanied by the large speaker in the front.

Too bad revealing the culprit behind their torment unfortunately only worsens their dilemma, although more for Fluttershy’s sake rather than her rescuer’s.

Every muscle within her body cramps, as though she were being forced to curl in herself tight enough to fit inside a cider bottle. She wanted to scream oh so very badly, but her throat had collapsed on itself. Instead, she lays writhing on the floor, her arms twisted and spazzing with bile threatening to spill from her lips all under the command of someone else.

Clawing her fingernails through the carpet she stares at Thomas, who’d turned around to briefly become enraptured by the strange woman’s reaction to the emitter’s exposure. The pleading anguish in her expression must’ve flipped a switch in the man’s head, raising his fist to sucker punch the device. Two strong punches and the metal disk’s noise becomes garbled as it dangles limply from its hanging position before dropping to the ground, silencing it entirely.

It was by no means euphoric; however, the heavy intake of air had never been more welcome by her standards. Harshly coughing out the stifled air from her lungs, Fluttershy gags whilst she struggles to rise, internally warring against the decision to either get up and run, or continue being sprawled here until she merged with the carpet itself. In all honesty the latter was a real breadwinner.

The wood beneath her vibrates as Thomas begins walking back to her, having gotten over his own skull-splitting reaction to the emitter rather quickly, and no doubt ready to hoist her tail back into action.

Some knight in shining armor. A rare, nasty scowl forms on her face.

He’s saying something, although she can’t make it out with all the leftover static still cottoned into her ears. That doesn’t become much of an issue though once a mountain of burly muscle busts from the door of a neighboring room and rams full speed into her human protecter like a runaway train. In his state of distraction, Thomas can do nothing as both he and the charging brute both fly through the plaster walls leading into the apartment bedroom out of sight.

Watching her only ally get himself bulldozed, she tries clawing up the side of the apartment walls to support her weight. Blinking rapidly, she presses the bridge between her eyes and nose in an attempt to sooth the awful pain spiking through her brain by any measure possible. By celestia she’s practically deaf by this point.

The wall she’s trailing across curves behind her until she’s suddenly stumbling out onto a balcony, converts of her wings bumping into thin metal that cause her to turn around and view the outside world once more. From what she can tell, several stories below stood the railway, the fire Dorland had set off further down the tracks now. Whereas on the right side two figures were making their way across at rapid pace.

Pink hair blew into her face as an abrupt heavy wind picked up, followed by something akin to propellers rumbling overhead. Folding her arms for protection, the ex-equestrian watched something that reminded her of an airship descend from the skyline until it hovered precariously above the rooftops. The noise of the alien machine was deeply unsettling, its spinning blades adorning the top echoing across the dimly lit city.

From an opening, a rope with a gurney on the end dropped down onto the tracks, right in front of the two men occupying the rails, who in response began lifting something together into the harness. Those weren’t rioters, that was Dorland and Le Rue!

Without a second’s hesitation, she turned and leapt into the master bedroom in search for Thomas. She still can’t hear much; thus she settles for simply trying to find him, only to subsequently be startled by Thomas himself being flown across her vision and crashing into a small table. Stomping towards his downed form is a man that might as well be the human equivalent to Iron Will, steam practically billowing from the bully’s nose.

A shoeless foot stomps on Thomas’ back who grunts as a result. Watching this in horror, something buried deep within her subconscious quickly takes the reins and flips her on autopilot, leaning down to scoop up a 2x4 and raise it high above her head, thrusting it down as hard as possible. It splinters in half upon contacting with the bigger man’s shoulder blade, and before she can mentally process the uncharacteristically brutal action she’d just committed, her new enemy stands over her with undivided attention.

Abandoning what’s left of the broken beam, she backs away, each step backwards is one step forwards on the thug’s part. He snarls down at her with the expression of a rabid animal, gnarly teeth showing as the muscles in his forearms ripple. Movement in the background catches her attention until she could see Thomas silently rise to his own feet, unbeknownst to their foe. Their eyes make contact, and Thomas made a waving signal with his hand. Get out of the way.

Having no room to argue, she side-stepped in the direction she was told both to the confusion of the massive brute and the perfect distraction for her human ally to sprint full speed towards said crazy man. With one hefty push, her protecter sent the inattentive thug right over the balcony rail and plummeting down to the streets far below.

Holding a hand over her mouth, Fluttershy froze as her mind processed the fact that she’d just witnessed a murder, aided even.

Her companion leans over the side, at first, she thinks to catch his breath; but really he’s more focused on what the rest of his team is doing below, as well as inspecting a thick line wire connecting from the apartment satellite next to the balcony to a small employee shack sitting on the edge of the commuter tracks near the squad. The radio on Thomas’ vest crackles, followed by a new voice of which she presumed belonged to whoever was piloting the metal aircraft.

“You guys need to get this situation straight, I’m a sitting duck out here!”

“Le Rue, help me with the Harness while I get the body into position!”

Hearing the squad leader on the other end gave her hope. She grabs Thomas’ arm, regardless whether he liked it or not.

“How are we going to get to them from here?”

His attention still focused on the wire beside them, looking down at her and nodding his head.

“Grab ahold on my back. Tight as you can.” His demand offered little for discussion, and honestly, she wasn’t in the mood for stalling with questions. Lest she accidentally doom them both.

He didn’t lean down, so she had to resort to jumping onto him, climbing up his tall backside until her arms straddle around his neck. She had no idea if she was ready, too busy attempting not to further choke at his horrid stench, before trying not to scream in his ear while he grabbed the wire in both hands to use it as a make-shift zipline.

Her stomach did swirls as she looks below, street and train rails much too far for her comfort. As quickly as it started, they reach the opposite end, just short of the line snapping under the extra weight they provided.

Letting go of him, she approaches the door to the shack when Thomas stops her. She’s about to protest until a gunshot from somewhere inside the closed room causes her to jolt. On the radio, Dorland growls over the chopper blades.

“Hold them back damn it! Okay, that should do it!

“Accueillez au diable jerkoffs!”

Le Rue cheer is barely heard on the other end combined with the gunshots ricocheting off the wooden shack, some hitting the airship above causing the piolet to panic.

“I’m taking fire!”

Pushing her back, her partner smoothly opens the door to the inside. Standing by a large window is another person wielding a metal weapon similar to what she witnessed Dorland use. Thomas lowers his form, crouching and stalking towards the distracted rioter, who’s busy blindly opening fire out the shattered glass, someone unseen on the other side firing back. Fluttershy holds her position in a tight corner, carefully eyeing the open entrance just in case, yet also making certain to watch Thomas’ every move.

She knows what’s to come, how forever revolted she’ll feel watching, much less willingly occupying the same room at this moment. But for whatever the reason, she can’t turn a blind eye. She despises how calculative Thomas is to creep behind the other man just quiet enough to not be heard, yet equally sufficiently speedy so he’s breathing down the unsuspecting madman’s neck within seconds. It’s like watching a tiger hunt its prey, when Thomas traps his arms around the rioter’s neck and holds firm whilst his quarry flails in lunacy and fear. Several pop shots erupt from the flailing man’s gun into random directions, gagging when the pressure against his trachea increases.

Arms glued to her sides in a hug, she’s shaking in her little corner. Oh look, her vision is blurring again, wonderful.

No wait, it isn’t her vision. Buckets and pipes rattle on their cheap shelves before toppling over, old wood creaks all around her as the echo of a horn roars in the oncoming distance.

There’s a flash of blinding light, born from the heat of a blazing inferno at the head-end of a massive blur barreling past their pathetic little hobble which rocks everyone off their feet. The screech of rusted steel, sparks popping off like fireworks, and the man-made platform they currently appropriate threatening to give in all reverberates through her body with so much vigor, you’d think she’d been hit by a meteor.

Once the noise clears, she’s forcing herself to sit up. Everything has been toppled, having to brush off the wood chips and spilled over buckets until she can focus on the fire encompassing the railway outside, over what specifically she can’t make out through the dust and dimmed lighting. A silhouette figure arises from the ground, momentarily giving her a heart attack until she realizes who it is merely from the gruff tone.

“You alright?”

A tiny nod of affirmation is enough for him to beckon her to follow, which she does; doing her best not to acknowledge the dead nameless man lying on the floor. Exiting the shack alongside him to oversee the damage, the young woman is gifted a gruesome sight.

Slumped across the tracks is a passenger train with the only form of life inside being a bright fire that has spread from car-to-car. There’s no screaming, no noise from within the burning convoy to convey life, only the crackling of flames, static electricity, and monotonous thrum of nearby generators.

She’s hauled from her stupor by Thomas as he makes his way down onto the tracks once more, Fluttershy quickly finding his reasoning why as a large number of brutes come barraging from the shadows once the coast is clear, most definitely to resume their hourly objective of ripping each other’s teeth out. Above them the chopper swerves as visible fire begins to grow around the propellors, and the radio on Thomas’ vest crackles.

“Go! We’ll evac on foot, Le Rue, let’s go!”

“What about Thomas, and the suspect?”

“He’s on his own.”

“Are you nuts? They won’t last ten minutes out here!”

“I said leave them, that’s an order!”

A cavernous crack rips through whatever hope she’d left in her soul. She wants to cry, to scream, anything that will lessen the heartbreak of betrayal and stench of burning flesh. However, all she can do is keep up with the man holding her wrist.

There’s a building that’s closer to them compared to the apartment, although it’s blocked off from chicken wire fencing. He releases his grip in order to hastily find any form of entrance, noting how the top of the gate is adorned with barbed wire prevent anyone from climbing over. Fluttershy keeps herself glued to the gate whilst eyeing the oblivious battling men, that is until one of them pulls out a long wooden stick that releases an explosion of brief fire instantly killing several upon contact.

The rioter switches focus to her without pause, and seeing how Thomas is a few feet away now with several other men making their way towards him, she is once more alone with the wolves.

Instinctively she takes off running right alongside the underbelly of the capsized transit with her pursuer hot on her tail. A foolish decision on her part, seeing how the tracks are completely destroyed with heavy debris blocking her way, the front car having previously flown off its hinges and bulldozed into a neighboring building.

She’s extremely lucky when the rampant electricity from the telephone connects with a spark somewhere on the car’s belly and creates a brief explosion, albeit smaller in scale, right in front of her attacker. There’s no scream as the event kills him immediately, the shockwave knocking her forwards onto her face.

Blood spills in her mouth after she bites through her tongue, shuddering at the pain and looking around until noticing the fence door to her right. It’s a small area housing several generators, connected to a building with an open door, and…

“Le Rue!” Her voice shouts over the fire and screaming, watching the lone agent adjusting his weapon whilst quickly making his way towards the exit. “Le Rue, it’s me open the gate, please!”

It’s obvious he doesn’t appear to notice or hear her, already hallway closing the door. In desperation, she grapples with the chain-link and presses herself firmly against it whilst screaming for the man, the pain in her stinging mouth forgotten.

“No! No, no, no, Le Rue please! Don’t leave me here, come back!”

Her cries fall on deaf ears after he closes the door, and her heart sinks even lower. No, no there has to be another way out, there has to! The fire is growing larger, if she wastes time fiddling with the blocked door she’ll be scorched.

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.” The mantra repeats in mumbles as she returns to Thomas. This could not be happening!

Peeking from cover, she doesn’t see Thomas anymore, giving way to more hysteria. Something hits her cheek causing a reactive flinch, looking in the direction it was thrown to see her ally standing on the neighboring building balcony and frantically signaling her over. Keeping low as possible, Fluttershy makes a mad dash for him, clambering over the railing and the broken chain-link fence she won’t bother to question.

Unlike before, the balcony they stand on has a closed entry, one she presumes is locked off because Thomas motions her to cut across a thin bridge leading to the next terrace over instead. A stroke of more luck, because beside it is the small area she’d witnessed Le Rue occupy seconds ago. Although, to say this was a thin bridge would be too kind, rather it in fact being two long boards haphazardly placed between the large space accompanying a four story drop below.

She gulps and backs up, yet her concierge isn’t so pleased and makes an effort to urge her forward. Keeping her hands plastered to the brick-side wall she moves step-by-step across the bridge, maintaining eye contact with the area her former “friend” had been as a means to provide motivation. Thomas on the other hand, was reaching his limit.

“Are you fucking serious!?” He growled whilst hovering right over her head. “What, you want some drinks, snacks maybe? Need to take a piss? You. Have. Wings. Height should mean nothing to you, get going!”

She holds in a shriek as he shoves her again, her jellyfish legs struggling to make it over the gap until they’ve reached the other side. Kicking over the boards yet again to make certain they aren’t followed, he follows her up the ladder to the next level, from here getting another wide scale view of the carnage unfolding. There is no entrance into the building up here, only a chance to jump into the squared off roof below.

Hopping over, her landing is clumsy due to her inexperienced new form compared to her partner’s. As Thomas makes his way towards the door, struggling to open it, Fluttershy hesitates when a sickening shiver runs along her spine. There’s nothing out of the ordinary, (if you could call anything in this city such), nothing except the fire that grows every closing second.

Wait, that’s it, there’s something in the fire. No, something on the train itself, a black blobbed figure hobbling on the destroyed convoy towards them. she doesn’t have time to warn her ally when the figure hops off the train and lands perfectly into their little space. Her view is semi blocked when Thomas puts himself between the newcomer and her, Fluttershy’s breathing becoming shallow when a familiar throaty voice barks out a laugh from underneath the stranger’s hood.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite drunk.”

Still dressed in his nasty hoodie, the man she’d first met upon arriving to this world who’d first harassed, then pursued her stalked closer. Thomas tensed, wordlessly cracking his knuckles to which the newcomer scoffed. These two seemed to have history as well.

Was that a good or bad sign?

“How’s your head sunshine? I say you still owe me for my nose job, let’s see if you can eat a boot better than that brick-”

Nose job? A lightbulb went off as she remembered vividly the injuries marring her harasser’s face when he’d pulled her close. She must’ve caught him right after the act. There’s a noticeable pause in their mutual enemy’s speech, that’s when she realizes she’s been spotted. Recognition develops within his hazed eyes before being replaced by what can only be described as exhilaration. With a loud whop, the man begins laughing.

“Holy shit! Christmas came early! Didn’t take you for a bird-collector” Ignorant to Thomas’ threatening stature, he opens both of his arms widely as if the two in front of him were some form of old friends. Then his expression turns cold

“Too bad she’s our property, we’ll handle her much better than what’s left of you pigs. You don’t even know what she’s capable of.”

The more he talks, the less Fluttershy wants to exist. The side-eye she briefly catches from her protecter doesn’t go unnoticed either. Their enemy scoffs.

“You know what, on second thought maybe I should let you take her, see how far you get. Little whore can barely say her own name, you’d be doing us a favor-”

What’s left of his jeers are abruptly cut short as Thomas sucker punches him right in the jaw, stunning the thug long enough for the taller man to wrap his bandaged fingers around the perp’s throat. Their new enemy is quicker than the other crazed rioters however, elbowing Thomas in the chin and punching him in the stomach. When he’s caught off guard, the harasser grapples the former agent’s torso and they shove into a generator. There’s a loud bang when they make contact, followed by the once mouthy thug repeatedly making strikes into the former agent’s sides, who parries with a knee to the other’s injured nose.

She wants to move, to help, yet can’t. It’s as though she’s hypnotized.

Pain becomes unbearable to withstand, and the perp releases his grip to clutch his face in agony, only to duck an oncoming swing from Thomas at the last second. The thug kicks Thomas in the knee, forcing him to bend so he can provide a constrictive chokehold. Coughing against the weight on his throat, Thomas flings backwards with the perp still piggybacking, slamming full force into the fence. With the train on the other side, it allows for a more solid impact, until several times being sandwiched between burning metal and muscle forces the harasser to loosen his grip. Using this to his advantage, her protector whips around to grab fistfuls of his foe’s jacket and continue slamming him into the fence over and over. And once he’s finished, tosses the helpless male like a ragdoll over the conditioning units and tumbles to the concrete floor.

Why? Why can’t she do something, anything. Confrontation had never been in her nature. She doesn’t want this; she would never want this.

Marching around the generators in search of the fallen enemy, Thomas is met with a wave of flung dirt into his eyes as a distraction for the screaming crazy to aim another strike. Luckily her ally is able to quickly parry the fist by knocking the oncoming hand to the wayside so he himself can punch the maniac right in the throat.

From there the fight ends as quickly as it began, the smaller man flying in reverse into a brick wall before falling to his knees, gagging out blood from his wounded esophagus. He’s helpless when Thomas grabs the back of his head and thrusts it straight into a generator in front, barely a garble made after he collapses in defeat.

There’s a noticeable slump in Thomas’ shoulders after the deed is done, chest heaving from weary exhaustion. He’s making his way back to her. She still hasn’t moved an inch. But her eyes do, her eyes move and see something glimmer off the light of the fire.

Three things occur in the span of one second: From where he formerly lay beaten, Thomas’ enemy launches from his position with a knife in hand. An action Thomas knew he couldn’t avoid, therefore settling for protecting his face. Said action proved utterly pointless, as a flash of pure yellow flew into frame and taking the place of his enemy.

A beat of large wings, screaming, then silence.

As she stood over the railing Fluttershy kept her eyes trained on the street below. It was sick, it made her sick.

She never wanted this.

It feels like an eternity before a hand rests on her shoulder. She doesn’t pay it any mind while it carefully guides her away from the rail, until she can no longer see over its edge. There’s another wooden plank leading up to the next rooftop that she begins to climb, where she can see it again down below.

The plank breaks and suddenly there are arms wrapped protectively around her frame when both of them crash headlong through a window and into a new area. The pain means nothing to her.

Condemned: Fluttering hope

by Amadeus cancer

Butterflies or beer?

ETHAN.

WAKE UP.

Rock bottom

ETHAN.

The world below the sky

Preston hotel

Abandoned angel