(2) Second Day

Rorschach’s Journal
Day 2

Found shelter last night in the forest. Cave was occupied at the time by strange creature with head of chicken and body of a lizard or snake. It glared at me intensely as if to scare me, was ineffective, creature could not find my eyes behind my face. Had thought to kill it for dinner, but did not want to risk poisoning myself- best not to eat strange creatures without previous knowledge. Gave it swift kick, went airborne, struck nearby tree, then fled. Cave smells of dung and mold, just like home.

Found water supply nearby. River with dirty water. Plan to make makeshift filter out of sand, charcoal, and heat. River will provide fish as well, will need to figure out how to fish. Need to venture out today to find other supplies for survival, things that will not be found in forest. I will go into Ponyville, but plan to continue to be discreet. As far as I know I am the only human here, I have yet to see any signs that say otherwise. Do not need to shock populace and attracted unneeded attention by walking blatantly around. Will hide until way is found to get back to New York, hopefully not long, pony’s bright colors hurt my eyes…

Have always hid in plain sight. Walking the putrid streets during day with sign posing the end was nigh, I was right though in that end it seemed. As bum, people saw through Walter Kovacs and paid his sign and his passing no heed. Hiding in plain sight would not work here. Will need to work like yesterday, hiding behind buildings and making use of rooftops, will need to avoid ones made of thatch. Wish I had grappling hook but seems unnecessary as rustic buildings were easy enough to scale.

My first goal remained the same, must find supplies necessary for own survival in forest. Refuse to be anywhere near this town, forest was best option to stay in. Living in the city on little means has taught me where to best search when one needed things. I rummaged in junk, trash, and debris in hopes of finding what was needed.

Same as my world, plenty of useable things in otherwise useless trash and vermin. Found bucket, still useable, will make good case for filter. Papers and old blankets found as well, will make makeshift bedding for shelter. Few old candles found as well, day proved promising so far.

With discarded treasure in hand I returned to my shelter. Cleaned out smell of bird with bucket and water as best I could but only could do so much, perhaps should have found soap as well to bring back. No matter, will be going back into town anyway. Further observation was needed on these ponyfolk as they had taken to calling themselves, alien and strange I call them…

Discovered today that magic does exist, at least in this world. I observed a unicorn levitating objects in the air with use of her horn, the pony (must find way to identify sexes, too confusing judging from marks on flank and color) I observed was purple with a dark purple mane with streaks of pink, unknown if dyed or natural. Long since gotten over fact these creatures could talk, even more so that they speak English, yet I find myself still shocked by them. The pony had been carrying at least four books, each one floating in air and lightly glowing the same color as her eyes. The place I had seen her leave from was even stranger compared to the rest of the town. It was a living tree but hollowed out as a home. By now surprises were becoming dull, she was a pony that lived in a hollow still living and tree and I was a vigilante trapped in world of fluff and butterflies while living in musty cave.

Peeking into her home’s window though I found a very promising lead. It appeared she lived in and operated a library, countless books lined the shelves and every open space either had a book or parchment upon it. It was a gold mine of information and perhaps a way out of this place, if this pony was a practitioner of so called magic then she might have something that explains a way of teleporting to different worlds or times. A long shot, I’ve done better with less.

For now though the day was still early, too many ponies around that could spot me performing what would seem like larceny. I will have to wait until night falls and things were clear. While waiting I did not plan to be idle in the least. In my journal I made a makeshift map of locations that formed the town. I marked the tree library with an X to show its importance to myself. Planned to search out other locations of interest.

I wandered the town, with patience and my own instincts helping to keep my form hidden from anyone. Nearly noticed once by pink pony but managed to slip away before anything happened, strange she knew where I was exactly before I was even there myself. Will have to watch her. By evening I had marked several more locations. Sugarcube Corner, a bakery owned by pony couple (and adopted the pink pony from before?) in the shape of a gingerbread house. Town Hall, had pleasant look while still base of government, seems to lack the corruption of my own- likely still as useless. Sweet Apple Acres, a trek outside of town with fields of apples around classic red barn with white picket fence. I climbed several trees for apples, took only what I needed and made sure their taking wasn’t obvious. Final place was boutique, knew before I even looked inside. Reminded me of my time making fabric in menial job, back when Walter Kovacs existed and Rorschach did not. Night has nearly fallen; I went back to the tree library and wait. I felt sure that the answers I sought were somewhere inside.

Rorschach's Journal. End of Day 2 entry

Pony refuses to sleep. I feel agitated watching her write at her desk, she has been like this for hours. She was an avid reader apparently as well as a celebrated note taker. Judged that she was an intellectual of some kind, nobody read without reason. Moon was high in the sky by the time she went to sleep, was glad to finally get chance. Something about the moon bothered me, it looked the same as back on Earth but it felt as though the moon was watching my every move. Paranoia perhaps, did not matter. I waited another hour to be sure she was asleep before I approached the tree library.

Most often I would just break the lock to get in but this was not a usual case, after all someone still slept inside. I scaled one of the tree’s branches to a window on the second floor. Only partially surprised to find it unlocked. I slipped in easily and scanned the interior of the tree. It was cozy to say the least, with books lining all the walls just as I remembered. Wish I had flashlight, candlelight will have to do. I look to my right and see that I had entered a window right next to her bed, she did not stir from her pleasant slumber. Something about the happy smile on her lips irked me but I do not know why. I prepared to move but stopped when I heard snoring from nearby, not from the pony.

In a basket at the foot of the bed slept a purple and green lizard. Guard pet perhaps? No, more like personal pet. Did not look vicious, was just glad it was not rabid guard dog. I continue downstairs to the main library. The same candle that the pony had studied by remained at the desk. I lit it with some flint I found nearby and with the flame cupped around my hand so it would not shine up to the second floor I investigated the books.

This pony was well read, just as I assumed. I found books on every topic that could be imagined. From recipes to maps to fiction, it seemed to cover everything. One title in particular caught my attention: The History of Equestria. I carefully removed it from its place and took it to the desk. Setting the candle down I read carefully from the passages, only stopping to make sure the pair upstairs remained asleep. From that book alone I learned most of what I needed to know. Apparently I was in a world, or country, the book was vague in that regard, called Equestria. Began much like barbaric humans did with nomadic tribes coming together to form cities to protect large stretches of land. Ruled like a kingdom by two princesses, little mention of king or queen. Apparently these two princesses, one of sun and one of night, rose their respective times each day. Seemed they were revered highly but not worshipped. Tradition or propaganda perhaps? Seemed unlikely they truly rose sun and moon.

I flipped randomly through the pages, from the original tribes of ponies, unicorns, and pegasi to geography. Was surprised to see familiar cities. It was like some children’s author came in and replaced the names of cities with puns: Fillydelphia, Manehattan, Trottingham? How similar were these cities to my own? Were they crime-ridden, or pockets of sinful prostration, drowning in their own misery? Gut instinct told me no. A thought came to me then; there was no Cold War, no Red Menace from across the sea, and there was no looming threat of nuclear destruction. Not sure I could think of any other kind of life other than the god-forsaken muck of pestilence that was Manhattan. There was always some war going on one time or another, always the growing threat of just one day turning into a pile of radioactive ash. Was surreal to think otherwise.

I placed the book down and return it to its place on the shelf, there was no dust on the shelf to match to as I commonly did; it seemed the pony kept her books as clean and clear as possible. Perhaps Obsessive Compulsive, would have need to not only read but keep things of affection in clean order. My hand brushes the spines of the books in search of something of interest. It finally rests upon one book entitled: Equestrian Laws and Crimes. Perhaps I did have a purpose here after all?

Took the book back to the desk and immediately began to read, attempting my best to ignore the snores of the sleeping lizard upstairs. The first few chapters detailed the complexities of Equestrian law, practice and standards, duties of police, sheriff, and guard ponies, and finally a listing of crimes. Felt satisfaction creep over, to know there was one thing here I was familiar with. Dispensing justice to the filth that infested the streets of good people, or perhaps in this case ponies.

My gut began to sink when I reached the second half of the book, the author had made sure to point out how low crime was in Equestria. Even had diagrams, at first they looked blank until I noticed the slivers of red bars that made up the amount of crime in a span of centuries. Centuries. That word stuck in to me most of all. I had read in the first book this place had a long history, mainly of peace and… harmony. I had not thought that it was a society devoid of crime. I am momentarily reminded of book I once read: Thomas Moore’s Utopia, good ideal but terrible book. Was this Equestria a utopia of sorts? A perfect society without fear of crime or war, the ailments of man. It had to be an irony of sorts, to find a Utopia, and it included no humans.

I sat there for a long time, even after the candle had gone out. I felt lost again as to what my purpose was, or rather why Dr. Manhattan had brought me here. Slowly I stand up and replace book, I did not need to see fully to remember where the book’s empty spot was. I continued my browsing until I found what I was looking for on the other side of the library: Teleportations: Its Mechanics and Dimensional Relevance, A Beginner’s Guide. Perfect.

Went to the desk and prepared to relight the candle when I noticed another light had appeared. My hand froze and I looked up but found the mare was still fast asleep. Only when I looked to the window did I see it was the first rays of the sun. I had lost track of the time, read too much. Morning, meant awake ponies, need to get away. Will take book, bring it back when done. Taking the good size tome I shoved it into the pocket of my trench coat. I made my way back upstairs to the window but a stirring of covers made me stop and turn around. Did not rush, would make too much noise. I slipped out the front door, noted the single lock and how easily it could be broken. Door was still unlocked but better than risking second floor open window. Would be faster to get out of town this way as well.

It was late morning and I found myself still free of fatigue, wasn’t sure how long that would last after a full night of investigation. I sat down on a rock just on the edge of the forest behind some buildings. It was secluded enough and I wanted to be quick to bring the book back, was not thief of property, wouldn’t become one. For a beginner’s guide the text seemed advanced. Didn’t understand most, had Equestrian words I did not understand, magical terms with foreign meanings. It seemed to cover the essentials of teleportation. To my surprise I found that unicorns could teleport themselves, I had suspected that by teleportation it would mean small things such as fruit or other inanimate objects. To my knowledge only Dr. Manhattan could ever teleport anything and at one time he had mentioned the difficulties he first had in moving himself from one place to another.

I keep reading what I could, abstract diagrams of ponies bodies and equations of energy meant little to me. I merely searched for some way I could be brought back to my own time and place. Anything else was tertiary or irrelevant. Then I reached a clause that stopped me. I had been on a section of theoretical long distance teleportation when I saw its first, most important words:

Unicorns have in the past strived to unearth the possibility of traveling between the sinews of time and space, later on other ponies hoped to use the same style in order to pass through theoretical barriers to reach other alternate dimensions. In both cases of either time travel or trans-dimensional teleportation, ponies found the magic too unstable. Test items, for this book we look to Dr. Heidenhoof and Dr. Von Snouten’s apples experiment example, had less than promising results. Attempts to use vast amounts of magical energy and correct combination of time affecting spells on apples in order to achieve time travel simply caused the fruit to implode. In trans-dimensional experiments the results were unpredictable. Most often the apples would either explode, combust, or implode the moment an attempted teleportation was made (note that Dr. Neigh’s formerly famous experiment in which an apple turned into an orange was recently discovered to be fraud). On the several occasions the apple did teleport and return it could not be told if they ever went anywhere. Before any testing could be made on these traveled apples their matter became unstable and the specimens turned to carbon fallout, scientists theorized that the apples were able to partially make it through to another dimension but bounced back where its matter became unstable and fell apart. Since then it has been concluded that time traveling and trans-dimensional is impossible but gave rise to a new theory that has become accepted. Dr. Von Snouten and Dr. Heidenhoof after decades of study both came up with the conclusion that matter could not be taken from one dimensional location to another. They guessed that in order for an object to travel between dimensions it must be completely and utterly destroyed in one dimension before it can be reformed in another, a paradox of sorts they concluded as it would be impossible to destroy matter and send this destroyed matter to another place…

The word impossible sunk into my mind. My hands harshly gripped the book as I kept reading the passage over and over yet the words remained the same. It made sense to me now. I was not sent away from Earth, I was not sent away by Dr. Manhattan.

I was dead.

The heat in my gut, I knew now what it was. Dr. Manhattan had not sent me away; he had killed me there in that tundra. No, he did not kill me, he obliterated my very existence and tossed me into another dimension like trash. Did he intend to send me to this fluffy, cute little slice of my personal hell? Was this some joke to him? I began to hyperventilate, my throat growled through my face as I seethed. Was this some sick sense of mercy?! The indestructible man couldn’t kill me because he had too much of a fake conscious?! Didn’t want to kill me so he sent me to some world without crime. Expects me to find a new purpose when the filth and miasma of human depravity crawled in their gutters still. That hell ridden Veidt lives still with his lies in hopes to get some satisfaction of thinking he can play God with people’s lives and expect them to thank him?!

I tossed the book out of my hand and stood up. My hands clenched into fists, knuckles so white they looked dead underneath my gloves. Finally I screamed, like an enraged animal in pain I vented my rage. I vehemently roared to the sky, “Manhattan!” as if expecting him to answer me. I found I had wandered to a tree at the edge of the forest and in my rage I began to punch the trunk. Bark chipped and shattered away at my ferocity. As I smashed into that tree I could see their faces. Dr. Manhattan. Adrian Veidt. Big Figure. A dead dog. The child murderer Grice. My mother. I saw them all as the tree heavily dented under my rage. My hands became swollen underneath my gloves, too swollen to form a proper fist, as I continued to shout and fume in my rage. I took the gloves off and continued to punch that tree. Pain refused to blot out my rage as I continued to deliver haymaker after haymaker against that tree. By the time I had stopped there was a mass of blood where my hand had struck. My hands themselves were mangled, fresh blood dripped to my forefingers, warm and sticky. The pain didn’t bother me, I could only seethe in my miserable anger over all of this.

The sound of rushing steps came around the building behind me. A girl (no older than Blair Roche perhaps I thought in suffering) called out, “I heard it over here! Come on!” Several sets of hoofprints rushed around the corner, another voice, a girl too, replied, “Applebloom hold up we-“

The white one stopped talking and all three them looked up in shock to see me, besides the white one there was one with a yellow coat and red mane, the other a purple mane with a bright orange coat. A terrible sight I must have been. Over three or four times as tall as them. Breathing heavy and loudly. I could see my own face, how the black blots that made my expression looked like a scatter of bludgeoned black blood. My hands dripped red with my own human blood. I turned fully to face them, they eyed the bloody tree and then quickly back to me.

My heart thumped in my chest with a rage that filled my mind. I could only feel hatred for everything that has happened; I transfused that hatred onto them. They shied away in terror as I took a step forward. My breathing was ragged and mangled, the growl in my throat still there. For a child I must have looked like a monster, but was that all I really was to one?

“Well? What are you waiting for,” I asked harshly, they shrunk again as if they’d been struck. I felt no pity, only my rage as I looked at them with the same fury I gave to the bloodied tree, “Run!” I said but they did not move, only whimpered in silent terror. “Go! Flee!” I took another menacing step towards them and screamed, “Get. Away. From me!”

They cried out in shrill terror, the spell of fear broke and their petrified bodies moved into action. They disappeared around the building again. I stood there, boiling in my anger and hate. They deserved it I thought, they should be afraid. All guilty, all of them are guilty. They all deserve to die. I deserve to die. I should have died.

I should be dead.

-----

Chapter 3 Preview: Rorschach finds he is the one being stalked, and his stalker happens to be a certain Pink Pony....

(3) They're Afraid of Me.

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Chapter 3: They’re afraid of me

Outburst did not go unheard, besides three ponies that found me, was safe to say half of Ponyville heard it. Had the sense to leave before anyone else arrived, I made sure to grab the discarded book. On another day it would have to be returned. Had to go into hiding, return to shelter. Ignored ugly stain of own blood on bent tree and throbbing in my hands, shoved them into coat pockets to keep from dripping blood onto ground. Pain tells me I broke something and a wrist was likely sprained or broken, have suffered worse.

In the calm forest my rage subsided, I was left with my thoughts. I have never yelled at children before, heard my share as child from abusive mother, didn’t want another to have the same experience. Did not look like children though, I tell myself, not human children at least. Did it matter? A harsh voice in my head spoke a resoundingly harsh yes. I felt numb first, then a strange guilt crept into my chest. Had not felt a remotely similar feeling since before Dan and I left for Antarctica. Said things I shouldn’t have, felt regret. This was different though, had not felt suffocating guilt since…. Since Blair Roche.

The thought struck me like a bullet; I stopped walking and stood there in the middle of the forest clearing. Birds sang overhead, realized suddenly I’ve never heard what a forest sounds like. Had expected it to sound similar to patrol in Central Park. Fond memory of breaking rapist’s back in two while fireflies danced in the air, was hard to hear crickets chirp though, rapist wouldn’t stop screaming. The sounds here were not the same as Central Park, they seemed more… real. “As if someone had taken the grey filter off the lens,” I found myself muttering.

I grunt and shook my head, had to move on. No time for useless observations that came from nowhere. Was quick to reach my shelter, everything right where I left it. The afternoon heat forced me to shed my coat and scarf. My face stays on despite the sweat that tried to drip down into my eyes, last comfort I had here in this world. Wrapped hands and cleaned away the blood. Wrist feels better, might not be sprained, hard to tell. Not smart idea to injure self out here. No medicine, no drug dealers to raid for pain killers, no penicillin to be had. Infection could be deadly unless I went to the ponies for help, not possible now, wouldn’t ask for help anyway. Will spend rest of day recuperating, gather food, firewood, lay low for the day as things cool down.

I stand up and prepare to leave my cave for firewood. Thought of three small ponies, foals they were called in the history book, prevailed in mind again. Never liked kids, annoying things. Too… innocent to deal with. Still, to strike terror in them like that. Was wrong. Shouldn't terrorize children. Even in my anger. Even when upset....

“M-mom, I’m sorry… I thought he was hurting you.”

Echoes of the slap.

“You little… you know what you just cost me!? I should ‘ave gotten that abortion you worthless…”

...Even when upset.

I sneer. Wasn’t the same. Tossed coat on rocks roughly as I decide to venture out to the river.

Rainbow Dash darted across the sky with incredible speed, circling over Ponyville twice before coming back down to the assembled group of ponies. Over half of Ponyville was assembled together after they had heard the screaming. Screaming doesn’t often happen in Ponyville, nothing so angry or pained at least, and everypony was still worried, frightened, or startled. The whispering grew when they saw Rainbow Dash appear again.

The cyan Pegasus landed lightly on her feet and shook her head at Twilight Sparkle and the Mayor, “No sign of any monsters," she said, " Or any hurt ponies for that matter.”

The Mayor breathed a sigh of relief, “oh thank goodness, I was worried some pony might have gotten hurt!”

“It wasn’t a pony though!” Scootaloo said, hopping in front of Rainbow Dash, “that’s what we’re trying to tell you. It was a monster!”

Sweetie Belle chimed in, “Yeah! It was tall and walked on two legs and he breathed real heavy like this!” To imitate she tried to take deep breathes and when she breathed out she tried to make a growl, though it came out much squeakier than the original malice the monster had.

Applebloom added in from where she stood next to Applejack, “That isn’t the worst part! It had no face!” She punctuated her words carefully to make her point across.

Applejack fixed Applebloom with a look, “Now don’t go fibbing young’n. There ain’t no such thing as a critter with no face, monster or not.”

Applebloom frowned sadly, “But I’m not fibbin’ sis’! He didn’t have no face, just this black moving stuff over a white skull! Oh! And he wore a hat!”

Twilight frowned, “A hat?”

Scootaloo nodded, “yeah! One of those round bill things!”

“You mean… a fedora?” Twilight said with a quizzical look but then merely shook her head.

The mayor had the same conclusion, she turned and announced to the crowd, “Alright everypony! Nothing is wrong! Please return to your homes and businesses! False alarm! Everything and everyone is okay!”

The assembled ponies breathed a collective sigh of relief and started to disperse in masses of talking and gossiping ponies, a few ponies though remained.

“Why won’t anypony believe us?!” Applebloom lamented loudly.

Rainbow Dash frowned sadly when Applebloom spoke but quickly smiled and jumped up in the air, she smirked and proudly boasted, “Ah don’t sweat it kid! Real or not, if that monster shows his mug 'round these parts again then I’ll show it the ole’ one-two hoof! That’ll show it for scaring ponies!”

Applejack found herself nodding along with Rainbow Dash though she was loathed to believe any faceless pony existed. Twilight was about to interject when Pinkie Pie popped out of nowhere right next to her. “Now hold on you guys! You three said it was hurt right? Maybe it was just scared and overreacted?” she said in the most serious voice she could muster.

Applejack shook her head vigorously, “overreacted, scared, or not if it had hurt Applebloom or the others… well Ah shouldn’t say what Ah’d go and do to this ‘monster.’”

“Well real or not it isn’t here anymore,” Twilight interjected herself back into the conversation. This seem to settle the matter as the other three ponies simply nodded.

Applebloom was about to make her case again but before she could go on she was led off with Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle by Applejack back to Sweet Apple Acres. Twilight Sparkle and Rainbow Dash said their goodbyes to each other before parting their own ways, but one pony still remained.

Pinkie Pie sat in the ground, frowning she put a hoof to her chin and began to think as she hummed softly.

Walking back to her home Twilight Sparkle couldn’t help but laugh a little at the little pony’s imagination. She wasn’t sure what to really think when they had come running and screaming about a monster in Ponyville. They found Twilight first and led her to the spot they were talking about. She saw no sign of any monster but what she did see sent a chill down her spine. One of the trees had a massive dent in it where something had pummeled it with all its might. She knew that something, something real and alive, made it as the dent was covered in dark dried blood. After seeing that she had no choice but to believe that the girls had been telling the truth or worse yet, believe somepony was badly hurt. It was troubling to hear this ‘monster’ had not only talked but threatened them, that alone angered Twilight immensely but the suspicion of if it was real or not remained and stalled her anger. Minutes later Rainbow Dash and the weather patrol had checked the area but found nothing that showed any sign of trouble, it seemed.

It worried Twilight still to see that blood, monster or not, some creature or pony had been hurt. But whatever it was, it was long gone by now. Twilight just hoped it got the help it needed. Reaching her home she opened the door with her magic and stepped in, her concerns and questions were for now forgotten. “Spike I’m home! Any luck finding that book?”

Spike popped his head up from a large pile of books and shook his head. "Nope, Sorry Twilight. You sure somepony didn’t just come check it out?”

While closing the door the purple unicorn shook her head, “I’m positive. I was reading it yesterday so I could refresh my memory on the best method of teleporting myself. I could swear that I had put it back on the shelf for safe keeping.”

Spike shrugged, “Well I can’t seem to find it. Perhaps you just misplaced it, I mean you got books you’re reading out all over the place.”

Twilight looked around, “Hmmm you got a point Spike.” Suddenly she smiled brightly, “you know what that means right Spike?!”

“Oh please don’t say-“

“Re-shelving day!”

Spike groaned and climbed out of the pile of books, stacking the discarded ones as he went.

They’re afraid of me.

Sitting on top of the cave that was my shelter I could just barely make out the tops of the buildings of Ponyville. Had gone in early on new day but left quickly when I heard the stories being circulated among the young and was spreading to everyone. Stories of ‘The Faceless Pony’. Heard a lot of nicknames for myself before, didn’t think one would ever include the word pony. Fitting though, that’s what those three ponies saw me as, faceless. That’s the only way I can describe myself here, without purpose or meaning. What vile blemish was there to cleanse, what fight was there to keep up in this world? Many questions remain in my mind on this place. Still questioned how I ended up here. Why nowhere else. Also found journal and mask on, why? More questions to this place plague my mind as well, had hoped to learn from one of the books last night how it was that these pony’s language was almost entirely like English with some exceptions or the properties of magic. Didn’t bother me anymore that their texts were the same after hearing them speak, initial reaction a cautious surprise yet now seems minuscule now I was sure I was in another dimension that would be my afterlife.

What did it matter. I was dead. This was the afterlife. Weird twist of events. Never remotely thought of afterlife, thought of death, most often violent, but not after that. Didn’t seem to matter. Now does... Still, would not lie down and rot like an animal in old age, refuse to. Still had integrity and will, just need direction. Kept telling myself that. Questioned if it was white lie or truth. Jumping down from my rocky ledge I doused my campfire and put my coat back on. I decided it was time to wander a bit. I decided take a different way to town rather than the normal way I took.

Never traveled path that led more towards Sweet Apple Acres (the name makes me cringe each time I hear or think it). Knew there was cottage just at edge of forest. Many animals, keeper was yellow Pegasus with pink mane. Wasn’t even close first time I approached yet animals could smell me. They became agitated at foreign smell. Saw no reason to approach after that, yellow Pegasus made me anxious as well as her pets. With this in mind I still wandered the path towards her cottage, a change of scenery. Hopefully more discreet way to town. As I approach through the forest edge I stopped to listen. I could hear voices with familiar tone. Mocking, harsh, ugly. Very out of place. Became worried.

I stand just at edge of forest, obscured by tree as I watch. Yellow Pegasus stood before two other Pegasi. Both male. One brown with dumbbell for mark, other tan with basketball. Yellow Pegasus looked worried, refused to meet eye contact with other two.

“Long time no see Klutzershy,” the brown one exclaimed, “ ‘Bout time you grounded yourself before you hurt yourself!” The tan one laughed at his friend’s ‘joke’. My fist clenched.

“Oh… umm… I… what are you two doing out of Cloudsdale?” The yellow Pegasus timidly asked, trying to hide behind her pink mane.

“Just a delivery to Ponyville, figured we’d stop by and see our good ole’ friend Klutzershy!” The tan one said with a smug smile.

“That’s…. nice… I.. uh… guess but…” The Yellow Pegasus was reduced to mumbling and the brown one took advantage of this and placed a hoof to his ear, “What was that? Speak up Klutzershy! Don’t tell me you’ve lost your voice, is your voice just as weak as your flying now?”

She stood there, nearly in tears. Stumbling over her quiet words. First thought was to step in and put end to mockery. Did not abide common thugs tormenting helpless or weak. imagined proper punishment as knuckles in good hand cracked.

“Please… let me by. I have to…” she descend into mumbling again before she could finish but her soft words had done its damage. I froze, my breathe caught itself and I stopped hearing the forest’s song. I felt a cold grip in my chest that kept me from moving or breathing. I’ve seen this all before. I've been here. She was just like Walter. She was just like what I once was.

"I got somethin' I could give your momma..." The boy took a menacing step forward towards me. I step back, hoping to go around.

"Everybody else does, way I hear it..."The other boy blocks my way, keeps me blocked in on sidewalk. I find it hard to look them in their cruel faces. Terror quickens my breath and speeds my heart.

“Is that right kid? Your mom’s a hoo-er?” the older boy in the red coat said to me in his mocking New Jersey accent. The cigarette that lazily hung from his lip lit brighter.

“Sure she is. He’s gonna fix us up with her ain’t that right whoreson?” His companion in the green jacket sneered.

“P-please… let me by, I have to go to the-“ I try to say through my fear.

“You don’t have to go no place, whoreson!” the green jacket boy boasted as he mashed the custard filled donut he had been eating in my face. I fall to the ground, wiping away the custard from my eyes. All the while the two sneered down at me. The red jacket boy’s eyes glowed maliciously from the light of the cigarette in his mouth as I glared back at him.

“Hah! You probably can’t do anything right, Clutzershy!”

“Ehhahaha! Look at ‘im! Probably got cooties. Probably got diseases!”

“Yeah! can’t fly, can’t talk. All you got is your stupid animals! What a stupid talent!”

“ ‘Ook at ‘im! You’re nothin’! Smell like garbage too! You got any diseases whoreson?!”

“Well say something Cluttzershy! You just gonna sit there and cry?”

“Watch it Marty he’s got your cigarette!”

"Oh boo-hoo, you just gonna sit there and cry Cluttzershy?"

“What?—eeeaaaaahh! My eye! My eyeeeeaaaahh!!!”

"You're not going to do anything, never could do anything."

“Get ‘im off me! Get ‘im off me!”

"You're just weak."

“Break it up you two! God he’s like a mad animal! Hold his arms, hold his arms!”

I let a breath in. I’m back in the forest. And the Yellow Pony was beginning to weep softly. I growl and take another step forward, to step in where she would not.

“Hey leave Fluttershy alone!” A rainbow blur appeared and floated above the three.

“Rainbow Dash!” Fluttershy exclaimed happily. Rainbow Dash hovered in front of the two bullies and pointed a menacing hoof at them, “Why don’t you too leave, or do you want to pick on someone your own size?! Bunch of bullies you are, picking on other ponies! You call yourselves colts?!”

The bullies growled but stepped back away from Fluttershy and the new Cyan Pegasus, the brown one waved a hoof dismissively, “Whatever! This was getting boring anyway. We’re out of here!” The two flew up in the air and quickly fled into the sky. I stepped back into the forest and let my fist go limp.

“You okay Fluttershy?” The rainbow maned Pegasus asked, worry shining in her eyes.

“I am now. Thank you Rainbow Dash.” Fluttershy said, shaken and teary eyed but better.

Meanwhile I look down at the ground. Felt hollow. Felt numb. Echoes of a young Walter Kovacs' voice still sound in my mind. It seemed Yellow Pegasus, Fluttershy, had something Walter Kovacs did not. Didn’t want to be here anymore. I turn and follow the forest’s line back the way towards Ponyville. I walked away just as the two friends hugged each other.

When I went into town before I stuck to the rooftops and the shadows, always careful how I moved. So far I have not slipped up badly. Ponies notice a passing shadow or sudden movement but I disappear quickly. Due to yesterday my left hand now was useless for climbing. Was for now grounded, have to rely on stairs if wanted to get higher. Will have to be extra careful.

No sooner had the thought of being extra careful came to mind I felt something was wrong. Walking along back of the building I turned a corner that I knew led to an obscured location from where I could observe town center. Instead of emptiness I saw a Pink pony turn and look my way. I quickly dodged back around the building. Hooves hit ground, rushing down the street towards where I am. I look up and spot an extended ledge where a garden securely hung. Would have to do. Backing up I got a quick step up the wall and grabbed it with my good hand. It ached but managed to pull myself up and hang there just as the pony turned the corner. She looked around, scrutinizing any possible hiding spots in the bushes or behind trashcans, luckily she did not bother to look up and see me. Could see her though. Pink, a bright pink as well, her mane was… cannot put this any other way, fluffy. Her mark was three balloons. A balloon maker? Perhaps a clown? Was it even a mare? Had to assume so, body structure matched female proportions of ponies I’d seen, and a Pink stallion with balloons as mark could never be taken seriously.

She stood underneath me for a while, thought for sure my grip would give out before she moved on. Finally though she went around the building to check the other side. I drop down, thankful that I did not lose my grip. Strange how air smelled of cotton candy where she once was. This was a tricky pony.

Suddenly the pink pony darted back around the corner and shouted, “Ah ha!”

All she saw though was an empty space of air. I held my breath just around the corner, wondering what she would do next. Instead of following up and discovering me though she slowly turned back around, took a double take, then continued on back around the building. I sighed in relief but my apprehension grew.

Worse. She knew I was there.

The rest of the afternoon continued this way, a game of cat and mouse. It was a game I was familiar with on the end of the cat, never as the mouse. This pink pony somehow proved to be a shrewder adversary than I cared to deal with. Every time I stopped she found me, every time I moved she was somewhere nearby. I was sure she noticed my presence by now but I always managed to remain just out of her reach and she seemed to notice this as well, she looked irritated whenever she was but a second too late to catch me. Desperate to get away I used a flight of stairs to get up onto the roof of a building. I was obvious to any Pegasus flying by but at this point was more worried with getting away from strange Pink Pony that stalked my every move.

I crouched against the roof in search of signs of pink but luckily found none. Would of breathed a sigh of relief had I not noticed the pink balloon rise up in the air right before me. I was shocked, I couldn’t move or react to what I was seeing. Pony. Hot air balloon. Flying. Pink. I watched the balloon rise and felt a part of me groan in frustration. In all of this shock I let go of the building and let myself slide off the roof. A hedge broke my fall and hid me from the balloon as it went by the roof where I had been.

I stumbled out of the brush, hat in hand and out of breathe. Had wind knocked out of me on fall, least I got away from pink menace. There would be no wandering around town today, not with that pink pony following me. Quickly made my way to the forest again, at least she would not follow me in here. I grumble in agitation as I nursed my strained wrist.

From up above Pinkie Pie leaned on her hooves as she watched the bipedal figure retreat back in the forest. She giggled and spoke aloud, “It’s been fun playing with you Mr. Faceless Pony!” She waved down at the oblivious biped just as he disappeared. Quietly she wondered, “I wonder if he likes parties.”

It was night when I return to my cave. Exhausted. Weary from the day’s venture. I start a fire and sit down on rock. I remove my jacket and take out my journal. Poising my pencil I begin writing.

Rorschach’s Journal

Day 3

Went by rural cottage outside Ponyville by chance. Expected nothing of interest. Instead found Yellow Pegasus, believe her name to be Fluttershy, tormented by two other Pegasi, males, classic bullies. Strange accent that sounded New Jersey? Would have stepped in, but something stopped me. Flashback to memory as child. Don’t have memories of time often. Was naïve, refused to see the cruel sick world that surrounded me. Looking back seemed obvious. The perversion. The filth. The pain. Yet didn’t see it through Rorschach’s eyes. Couldn’t see it through Rorschach’s eyes. Just a child’s. Why have it now? Why did that pony remind me of it? Perhaps it has to do with afterlife? Some philosophers thought afterlife was made up of memories, living out old memories again. Sounds like own personal hell for each humans. Never believed my own would be anything like this place. Every day more questions fill the gaps of where answers should be. Begin to wonder if any answers are to be found....

Believe to have met match today. Pink Pony. Curly(?) mane. Smelled like cotton candy. She knew I was in Ponyville. Knew I was there. Perhaps used magic? Saw no horn. Couldn’t explain otherwise uncanny ability to find me. Was I becoming obvious in my movements? Getting harder to keep my presence hidden. In forest I was at least safe from

I stop my writing and look up. Sound came from outside the mouth of the cave, the vicious growl and snarl of some creature. I stand up and glare out the maw of the cave. From the darkness I spotted yellow eyes watching me by my fire. A wolf’s distinctive threatening snarl and growl came from the leading pair of malicious amber eyes as it led the mass of glaring and glowing eyes closer to the cave’s entrance….

(4) Wolf Hunter

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Chapter 4: Wolf Hunter

“Fluttershy! Are you okay? Rainbow Dash just told me what happened!” Twilight exclaimed as she burst through the cottage door. She looked like she had been running and was sweating profusely. Spike had been hanging on for dear life by her tail. He breathed a sigh of relief and let go of Twilight’s tail and slumped to the floor the moment she stopped.

In the room Fluttershy was sitting on her sofa, she looked like had been recently crying and was about to burst into more. Rarity sat next to her with a handkerchief at the ready though if her yellow friend started up again. “Oh Twilight, what are you doing here so late? I don’t want you worrying over me, really I’m fine.” The soft spoken Yellow Pegasus said.

“Well I came here as soon as I heard from Rainbow. I’m glad she was there to help you.” Twilight said as she closed the cottage door and trotted to the sofa.

“I’d say so!” Rarity exclaimed, “Bunch of ruffians! Who do they think they are picking on our Fluttershy. Why if I ever saw them again…”

“Really you two I’m fine now. They said some hurtful things but I know they weren’t true.” Fluttershy said with a smile.

“That’s right! Just know though that we’re always there for you.” Twilight said.

“That’s right we’re your friends after all, dear.” Rarity said as she hugged the now smiling Fluttershy.

“Oh I know!” Twilight jumped up, “We can have a sleep over with you!”

“Oh really? That sound’s wonderful.” Fluttershy happily said with a soft smile. The three gathered together for a group hug. Twilight even managed to drag Spike into the hug with her magic. The little dragon couldn’t complain though to find himself so close to Rarity.

Love filled hearts replaced his pupils as he dreamily smiled and sighed.

My fist smashed into the side of the wolf’s face. I heard one of my finger bones pop out of place, then back in, from impact. The wolf gave a sharp yelp from the strike, its own attack sent off course, it landed with a thud just outside the ring of circling wolves, strangely made of timber. Another wolf took the opportunity of the distraction by leaping at my back. Had anticipated this. In my other hand I swung the burning stick straight into the wolf. It howled in pain as the burn embers struck its side. It fell hard to the ground. Struggled on the ground and quickly got up, the fire that had struck its side extinguished into a charcoal black mark. Both defeated wolves returned to the open spots in the circling pack.

These were larger than any dogs I’ve ever seen, their skin made of tough bark that was hard to break. The wooden canines did have the mentality of wolves still. They circled around me just out of my striking reach. Managed to lure me from the cave, pair of wolves somehow got behind me and forced me out of the cave’s protection. Now they surrounded me and probed my defense with random strikes to try and bring me down.

Was in bad predicament.

Tried to keep the lead wolf in front of me, eyed around the circle for signs of strike. They had the advantage of the night and the forest though. When the wolves wanted to make a strike, one would disappear into the forest and another would attack. As I fended off the attacker the one from the forest would reemerged to strike from behind. Hasn’t work so far, eventually will at this rate. They saw I was getting tired, it was part of their plan. Wear down larger prey until it made mistake, then go for throat. Wasn’t about to give them chance.

Next attack came from leader, was expecting a massive tackle but it feinted before it got close to me. I realized the fault in my move too late. Already I felt teeth dig into my exposed heel. I stumble and cry out in pain and before I could strike the wolf that had its grip on me it had let go and was away. Bled profusely, mind imagined splinters digging into the wound. I couldn’t stop from stumbling on my wounded heel, the wolves took this as a sign of weakness. One of the smaller wolves took this chance to charge in straight for me. The space between its eyes met with my elbow, felt satisfied when I heard something snap but the wolf rushed off by me. Already another wolf saw its chance to maul me. It jumped onto me, its claws digging into my flesh, shouldn’t have taken off coat in cave. All I could see was the beast’s jaws snap and snarl before my face before I managed to get my arms around its legs. I lifted the beast off of myself and tossed it into another wolf. Both fell to the ground in a mass of yelps and whines as they struggled to get up.

Another wolf had tried to take my distraction to its advantage and snap at my other heel. Managed to move foot just in time, planted said foot in the wolf’s skull harshly. Didn’t have time to finish off, pack wouldn’t let me. Instead kicked it in its side and away from me and prepared for another assault. Only hoped if I inflicted enough injuries I would get them to go away. A predator wouldn’t risk serious injury on one prey, had to show them I was not prey.

I roared a challenge to the circling wolves, my cry muffled by true face and sounded more animal than human. Some of the injured wolves shied away but those still standing, the largest ones, remained.

They rushed all at once.

A mass of teeth, bark, and claws collided with me. Claws buried itself in my back, teeth clamped down on my calf and nipped at the other, my chest wept blood freely. I let the fire brand in my hand swing into the crowd, striking indiscriminately. My other arm was forced to keep up to block my neck from gnashing teeth, were one to get at my throat there would be nothing I could do. Kicked out when I could but feared losing balance from injured heel. With one swift kick I managed to stun the leader and send him flailing to the ground. Had to show them was not prey.

Swung away the other wolves and ignoring one that dug its teeth into my calf I brandished the burning weapon over my head and brought it down onto the wolf. The strike broke the flaming weapon in two but through the crack of wood I heard the crack of bark and bone. The leader howled in pain causing the other wolves scattered. And with what last vestige of energy I had I brought the sharp broken stick down into the wolf and buried it in its chest. The wolf stopped squirming and the forest fell silent beyond my agonized breathing. The remaining pack fled into the woods at the sight of their dead pack leader.

I limped back into my cave, the walk felt like an eternity. I take one last look at the cave entrance, expecting to find the yellow eyes watching me. Instead I see only darkness. I turn my head to the fire, but I only see darkness as I topple over onto the cold ground…

It was late morning before Twilight Sparkle, Fluttershy, and Rarity woke up. They had stayed up almost all night following what Twilight could remember of her book on sleepovers. Spike though missed out on most of the fun, falling asleep the instant his internal clock told him it was time for slumber.

By morning Fluttershy had forgotten all about the incident yesterday, all she could recall was the good times she had and the close friends she kept. Life felt perfect and as she stepped out into the sunlight and was greeted to a wonderful new day, she knew the feeling would last. Rarity had to leave to open up her boutique after breakfast, leaving only Fluttershy and Twilight Sparkle. The animals though were taken care of for the day so Fluttershy wasn’t needed and at the behests of Spike Twilight decided to spend the day away from her studies, well at least for a few hours away from her beloved books.

They figured a day at Sweet Apple Acres would do them both some good. Applejack was no doubt in need of help both handling the farm and watching the Cutie Mark Crusaders. Everyone else seemed busy anyway. Pinkie Pie had been acting strange ever since the ‘faceless pony’ story started to appear. Twilight rolled her eyes at the mention of the silly story, Pinkie Pie seemed keen on it for some reason though. Rainbow Dash meanwhile was practicing for a race in Cloudsdale. She sometimes liked to practice in secret so she was likely off somewhere in the sky either hard at work or sleeping.

For now it would just be the three ponies for the day it seemed.

From Fluttershy’s cottage it was not a long way to Sweet Apple Acres. Already the two laughing ponies were marching their way past lines of trees laden with bright ripe red apples. No sooner had they spotted the Apple family home did they hear a commotion of shouting.

“Applebloom be careful with that! No, Sweetie Belle git down from there! I told ya once already Scootaloo you can’t jump the barn, it ain’t safe! Hold your horses, little fillies! Slow down!” Applejack cried out, rushing around the barnyard chasing after the three wild ponies.

Fluttershy giggled, “sounds like Applejack really could use some help.”

Twilight nodded, “Yeah! I’m glad we’re able to lend her a hand with the girls, I can’t imagine a tougher time than dealing with those wild three.”

Begrimed, damnable animals. Barely any sleep last night. Passed out for a while, had to wake to patch wounds. Took long time to pull splinters out of me. Can only hope infection won’t set in. No time to make sure, must prepare defenses. Least took some joy in trying to use the dead pack leader’s corpse for firewood. Stopped after first try, wolf’s burning body gave of a foul smell, feared would attract other animals and befoul only living space. Wrist definitely sprained now, pain tremors loosen its grip. Luckily heel was not broken, cannot be crippled out here. Not now at least. Still under siege. Wolves returned early morning, watched me for a while then left. No idea how many there are, not the same ones I fought last night. New pack come to take territory from pack that was scattered? Doesn’t matter, these wolves seemed vicious.

Not sure what happened but noticing more activity in the animals of the forest. Heard lion roar in the distance, unmistakable, worrisome. No metal to work with, few weapons besides fire and sharpened sticks. Predators afraid of twigs and flame as much as falling rain. They do fear me though. The moment they see me they flee, likely to wait until night. Still too risky to gather food with new pack in area. Hate to consider it but Sweet Apple Acres had easily gathered food and noted the wooden wolves never went close to the farm. Felt need to investigate further how farmers kept wolves away, will need that knowledge for peaceful nights.

Before leaving the cave however I make sure to keep my belongings high up near the top of the cave, away from potentially being ruined by wooden teeth. Ideas for traps drifted through mind. Spike pit might keep them at bay. Time consuming though. Alternative pitch trap, fire was easy to make. Potential for problems too high though. Don’t want to set forest on fire, too noticeable as well.

Found myself no longer enjoying the calm of the forest. Was aware now the kinds of predators that inhabit it. See now why the ponies stayed away from the forest. As I walked I periodically looked over my shoulder. The wolves seemed to sleep during the day but in their agitated state I took no chances.

My assumptions proved correct. Nearing Sweet Apple Acres I stumbled into a grove very similar to the one I first found myself in. From the brush I spotted movement and a fleeting form. I recognized the burn mark on the creature’s side. It seemed the pack from last night had reformed, or still lived in this part of the forest. Might create conflict with new pack in the area, could work to my advantage. Not while still stalked by both pack though. I left the grove with haste. Noted ugly black tree and strange blue flowers that grew at the grove’s entrance as landmark for later. Their hue’s reminder sent agitation through me.

From afar I could see Sweet Apple Acres. Wondered how to approach the situation. Very few good options came to mind. Loathed the idea of asking for help let alone taking apples from field. Howl from forest reminded me I had little choice. Unnatural to hear wolf’s howl so early in the day.

They were still stalking me.

“The Timber wolves are’a howlin’!” Granny Smith cried from the kitchen window, startling every pony for the second time after they heard howl in the distance. For the Apple family it was one of the first signs of their famous Zap Apples beginning to grow. But Granny Smith frowned instead of going quickly for the pots and pans to keep the wolves at bay. “Well that don’t seem right… it ain’t the right time for them to be’a howlin’…. Sounds different too fur that matter.”

Applejack trotted over to the kitchen’s window, “What does it mean then Granny?”

“I’m not too sure… could be Zap Apple season, I don’t know though… I best get my pots and pans though!” With that Granny Smith disappeared to cause a ruckus in the kitchen.

Applejack casted a worried glance to the forest, a look that did not go unnoticed by her two friends. “What is it Applejack?” Fluttershy asked in her soft voice as she and Twilight came to stand by Applejack at the kitchen window. Nearby the Cutie Mark crusaders were having their own hushed conversation away from them.

“Well the forest been actin’ all strange lately. Last night there was a commotion out there. Not sure where from but it was loud that was sure.” Applejack said, still watching the forest.

“Really? Come to think of it the animals seem more nervous now that I think about it,” Fluttershy said, “a few days ago even, nearly all my animals were startled by something. Even after I calmed them down they seemed agitated.”

Applejack suddenly smiled and nudged Twilight, “Heh maybe it’s that there ‘Faceless Pony.’”

“Ugh, don’t get that started now.” Twilight said with a roll of her eyes.

“I’m sorry but ‘faceless pony’?” Fluttershy asked, her face a mix of worry and confusion.

Twilight explained, “The day before Applebloom, Sweetie Belle, and Scootaloo said they saw a monster in Ponyville that apparently had no face.”

Applejack nodded, “ ‘Parently it tore up a tree and yelled at them. The girls were real spooked but no sign of any faceless pony was found.”

“Oh my, I’ve never heard of any animal or pony without a face before. How would it even see or eat?”

“My thoughts too, apparently it was wearing a fedora too,” Twilight said with a soft laugh. Closing her eyes she smiled and called out, “Isn’t that right Applebloom?” No answer. “Applebloom?”

All three turn to the spot the three fillies had been a moment a go but find no pony there. “Girls? Now where in the world could they’ve gone off to?” Twilight said.

“Well where ever they are we best go find them, ain’t safe with Timber Wolves out and about!” Applejack exclaimed.

“Let’s split up and see where they are.” Fluttershy said as she unfurled her wings and jumped into the sky.

The three went in separate directions in search of the Cutie Mark Crusaders, hopefully before they got into serious trouble.

Moments earlier…

Applebloom, Sweetie Belle, and Scootaloo huddled together just after Granny Smith cried out from the kitchen window.

“You hear that girls? Zap Apple harvest again!” Scootaloo said with a wide smile on her face.

“Well it don’t seem like the right time of the season though.” Applebloom said, placing a hoof to her chin, “then again Zap Apples are magical, I guess they just appear whenever they want.”

“Hey I know! What if we went looking for the other signs of the Zap Apples are coming. Just to be sure!” Sweetie Belle happily said.

“Hey yeah! Good idea Sweetie Belle. What’s the second sign Applebloom?”

“Well the second sign would be the leaves appearing on the Zap Apple trees, but usually they appear in the Everfree forest first before our orchard.”

“Well then let’s just go check the forest!” Scootaloo shouted her whisper.

“Well I do know this one tree that grows in a grove near the farm right by some Poison Joke. Ain’t that far and we could know for sure if the Zap Apples are coming.” Applebloom said and grinned.

Sweetie Belle’s eyes started to shine, “Why we could get Zap Apple Cutie Marks for this!”

“Yay!” they whispered together. With a quick glance at the three older ponies they quickly stole away towards the forest towards the grove that Applebloom described.

Pathetic. Reduced to scavenging apples from farm. Feel like common thief. Must find something to repay apples. What would ponies take? First thought hay, might not work with intelligent ponies. Wonder what currency they used.

Balancing myself on the tree branch I easily picked the apples that lay just before my eyes. Every apple was perfectly shaped, each one shined a different way as the sun’s light struck their glossy red surfaces. Stomach growled at thought of eating. Safer though to eat back in shelter. Still had matter of finding out how farmers kept wolves away. Could have method locked away in home like trade secret. Could sneak in and take it. Could just ask. Deplorable idea. Alternative, hunt wolves out of area. Would take a while, nor effective. Wonder if possible with current injuries.

I take a step down from the tree, my other leg hanging to prepare to fall to the ground. I stop short when I hear voices from afar. I knew those voices. Standing back up into the tree I pull away the leaves that obscured my vision. From across the field I saw three of foals running. What were they doing? My own question was soon answered when I looked ahead of where they ran.

They were going towards the grove in the Everfree forest. The same grove where the Timber Wolves waited.

“No.” I muttered, “Nononononono! “ I drop down from the tree, some apples slipping away and striking the ground near me. I stumble a bit on impact but the danger the foals were in made me ignore the pain in my heel. “Stupid foals. Trying to get killed?” I say as I try my best to sprint towards the grove, hoping to catch up with the three little ponies.

The innocent were in danger.

Little did I know that someone else had spotted the three ponies as well. An orange pony, far ahead of me, followed the foals into danger.

“Wow, even in the day time this place feels creepy, “ Sweetie Belle said as she eyed the canopy above them.

Applebloom, who was used to the forest with her ventures to Zecora’s hut, confidently led the way to the grove. Though she too felt something in the forest was wrong. “I-it ain’t so bad, I ain’t scared.” She hesitantly said.

“Y-yeah, just a forest is all. Nothin’ scary about that.” Scootaloo cautious said as she nervously glanced at the forest around them.

“Look there’s the grove!” Applebloom cried out as she rushed ahead. Her two friends quickly caught up and rushed into the quiet grassy cove. Just in front of them stood the Zap Apple tree that stood out against any other with its ugly colored bark and gnarled branches.

Its arms were bare, the tree for all accounts looked like it was dead.

The three little ponies groaned in disappointment upon seeing that not even a spark had been made by the tree.

“Ah shucks, maybe we’re still too early?” Applebloom sighed and kicked at the short grass at her feet.

“Applebloom! What in tarnation are y’all three doing out here!” A cry from behind them shocked the three into the air.

The three turned to see Applejack run into the grove, a very unhappy look was on her face. Applebloom tried to speak but her sister was quick to cut her off. “Now come on girls, we’ll talk about this back at the farm, it ain’t safe out here!”

Applebloom shrank away and Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo found a strong interest in the dirt in front of their hooves, “We’re sorry Applejack,” Applebloom said, “We just wanted to see if the Zap Apples were really coming but the tree-“

She was cut off by a snarl that came from the forest. The three little ponies huddled together at the terrifying sound while Applejack sprang into action. She turned to face the source of the sound and saw the fleeting form of a wolf. Her eyes narrowed as she scanned the rest of the grove. The sight of movement caused her to look at the grove’s entrance. Materializing out of the dark forest to stand on the path was a savage Timber Wolf, yellow eyes glowing with malevolent intent. Applejack stared right back but she felt a growing sense of unease as she heard the brush around them move with the motion of other wolves standing on the grove’s edge.

“Girls, back up against the tree and behind me.” The cowpony said, the three little foals behind her complied and huddled their backs against the tree. Applejack backed up with them and the wolf on the path followed her pace. Two other wolves sprang from the grove’s edges on either side of her. One looked like it had its nose smashed in and could barely keep its mouth from drooling. The other had a distinct burn mark on its side. The battle hardened forms caused a shiver to run down her spine but she merely returned the wolves’ glares with one of her own. She hoped to Celestia that Twilight and Fluttershy found her soon though.

The wolf with the burn mark didn’t wait any longer and charged her, but she was ready. Turning around she bucked the wolf in its snarling face. It jumped back from the strike and stumbled from the stunningly strong blow. The other two took this chance to rush the orange pony. They too received a swift kick to their snouts. Applejack was strong and quick in her legs from years bucking trees and these wooden wolves were treated no different than those Apple Trees.

Applejack hoped to scare the off but her fighting only seemed to spur them on. They stood their ground and growled with savagery as they glared at the pony both with hate and hunger. Applejack was prepared to buck out again when she heard a sound from her side. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted the leaping form of a timber wolf rush down upon her. She barely had enough time to turn around and kick the ambushing wolf in its face.

The lead wolf from the path charged forward towards Applejack’s exposed back. It leapt into the air and dugs its sharp teeth into her.

Applejack cried out in pain and tried to get the clawing wolf of before it could adjust its bite into her neck. “Applejack!” Applebloom cried out in terror as the three little ones looked on in horror.

Finally the cowpony managed to get the wolf to lose its grip on her. Her back wept openly from the wound but she refused to think about the pain. She instead bucked away the wolf but with significantly less strength than before. She felt woozy from the bite and she stumbled a bit from the pain she felt from the wound.

Not like this, she thought.

The wolves saw their prey stumble and took this as a sign that the game was over. The crept forward, almost smiling with their massive teeth. Applejack backed up but bumped into the three ponies that clung to her back legs in fear.

This was it, her mind went.

The lead leap forward, murderous intent in its eyes as it fell with open jaws upon Applejack’s neck. The orange pony closed her eyes and prepared to rear up to punch her front hooves in the wolf’s face even though she knew that wouldn’t do much against the huge wolf, she wasn’t about to go down with a fight. Tears fell freely from her eyes, both out of fear and the feeling of failure to protect her little sister.

The wolf, though, never got to her.

The grove itself seemed to jump as a large form crashed through the underbrush of the grove and smashed itself into the leaping wolf, sending it toppling to the ground. The four wolves cried out, one whined as they backed up by feet from the menacing monster that now stood before them.

Applejack opened her eyes and found herself staring at the leathery clothed back of a strange bipedal creature. Confusion and fear came to her mind, she wasn’t sure if she had just been saved or been put into even more danger.

“It’s that monster again!” Scootaloo cried out in surprise.

Applejack looked at Scootaloo then back at the monster. In response the monster turned its stark white head towards them for a moment. To Applejack’s surprise it had no eyes, or nose, or mouth for that matter. All that looked back at them was this blot of black ink that never stopped moving. The first thought in everypony’s mind was it had a butterfly for a face.

Arrived far too late. Orange pony wounded. Wolf had blood filled mouth. Break its neck. Smell or not, it would burn in a pit of fire for that. From behind my face my eyes were ablaze with hatred and anger, I found myself growling with every breathe. The wolves snarled back at me with their own growls but their malevolent intent was squashed by the sheer rage I felt.

No one. No animal. Would harm the innocent. Anywhere, afterlife or not.

The new lead wolf had recovered by now and joined the standoff with me. I recognize it as one of the wolves that held back and let its pack mates rush in first. The other two, by their injuries, I recognized quite quickly. They recognized me too.

The wolf with a smashed face rushed for my neck, hoping to repay the damage done to itself. I threw up my arm just as it nearly reached my face, its snout knocked my fedora off just as I managed to catch it by the neck. With my other hand I hefted the wolf by its chest so that I was the only thing holding it up from the ground.

With a heave I slammed the wolf into the ground with a force that shook the trees that surround the grove.

I snarled at the other wolves in challenge. Didn’t have time to finish off the wolf as it scampered away with an injured leg. Other wolves were just waiting for me to slip up. They seemed to see that the ponies were easier prey than I, and they circled around to try and get them. Couldn’t allow.

I stood still and watched their movements, the moment one snapped at me I managed a quick jab to its snout. Not strong enough to do damage but made them think twice of attempting to scare me.

Another leapt up, a knee cracked its sternum, and by then the wolves began to back off once they saw their chance at prey was gone. I took a few quick step forwards and their resolve was broken. The four wolves fled into the forest with their strange brush like tails between their legs. I give a hard frown, will have to hunt the lone wolves down. If they started attacking ponies. No, wouldn’t give them chance.

For a while I just stand there, listening to the sounds of the forest and the grove return. Not even the ponies behind me moved. Had nearly forgotten they were there they were so quiet. I turn around again to face them and the orange pony despite her wound stood protectively over the three little foals. Brave thing.

I take a few steps forward.

“Don’t come any closer y’hear?! I-I’m not afraid of you!” she cried out.

I stand just before her and reach down.

“I-I-I’m warning ya! I mean it! I don’t want to hurt you but I will!” Her eyes were filled with resolve to fight me off but I could hear the fear in her voice.

I reach all the way down, and retrieve my fallen hat.

At this she seemed to become less tense. She watched my face carefully as I place my hat back to its rightful place. I looked her in the eye but she didn’t shrink away. She stared right back at me, watching the ever moving Rorschach upon my face. Her green eyes were large and bore with them a look of resolve and strength that I only saw in other masked vigilantes of my time. None had such large eyes though.

It was the red maned foal that broke the tense silence, “Your face looks like a butterfly!”

I look to her and tilt my head, even the orange pony did the same to look at the nervously smiling pony.

“Um,” the orange pony began as she looked back to me, “thank you kindly. Whatever you are to saving us.”

“Hurt.” I hoarsely monotone.

The pony seems shocked to hear me speak, I heard the orange foal whisper, “I told you!” to her.

She recovered quickly though. Strong willed thing she was. “Wh-wha?”

I decide not to explain but instead removed the white cotton scarf that I wore around neck. It was loosely tied and fell back into shape in my hands. I reach for her but she moved back into her protective state. I stop and wait for her to calm down, I hoped she could somehow tell I meant to help. In any case she calmed down finally and returned to her normal stance.

I fell to my knees to better be at her height and checked her wound for splinters. Pulled one mean looking canine out of her back. She cringed but amazingly did not fuss. She was hardier than she looked. Taking the last water in my canteen I soaked away any of the dirt that was there. The scarf was long enough to cross her midsection twice and covered the wound completely, the spot turned a light pink as the cotton quickly soaked up the blood. I tied a knot into the scarf though made sure it wasn’t too tight to remove or agitate the wound.

Neck felt exposed to elements but felt also good. Never realized was sweating profusely. I stand back up and allowed her space to move around with her bandage. Would last her trip to home where she could get better treatment. Would still hurt but not once had she complained. Instead she looked up at me and nodded, “Thank ya kindly.” Noticing the tilt in my head I guess she took that as a sign of a question, she spoke, “ It ain’t too bad though, got worse on the rodeo I reckon. Still… thank you.”

I don’t respond, don’t nod. Turned to leave.

“Hey wait up!” the little white foal’s voice stops me. I turn around and look at her. Strange she didn’t shy away.

“You’re not that mean after all, are you? We just caught you at a bad time, right?” She continued. Her intuition… astonished me. I simply nod at her. She gave me a wider smile in return. Made me feel uncomfortable. Felt unnatural to receive smile.

The orange foal took perhaps two bounds and stood right at my feet. I look down at her, expect to see her filled with fear. Like on Earth, no one smiled at my passing, likely would be the same here. To my surprise though she smiles but then wrinkles her nose. Waving one of her hooves in front of her nose she exclaimed, “Pee-you! I’m sorry mister but you smell awful.”

In all my years. I have not once felt so dumbfounded. Never before has a child so blatantly said a remote insult to me. I was overwhelmed.

“Scootaloo! That isn’t nice!” The red maned one said to the orange one, still hanging on to one of the orange pony’s front legs.

“Just sayin’” the purple maned one muttered and walked back to her group.

“Thanks again for savin’ my sister and us… umm whatever you are!” the red maned one said to me, a smile on her lips too.

I merely nod at her and turn back around, walking back into the forest to my shelter.

From behind I hear the orange pony call out to me, “Wait! Where you goin’!” I don’t bother to stop or say anything. Work was done. For now.

Applejack stood there still stunned over what happened. She watched the bipedal thing retreat into the forest and watched it turn into a shadow until it was no more. Her back ached in pain but the warm scarf that she was wrapped in made the pain hurt less as it seemed to block any bleeding she had.

She wasn’t sure though what left her more stunned. The fact that the ‘faceless pony’ existed, that it had helped them, patched her up with its own scarf, the fact it wore clothes? No, most of all she believed what stunned her was the ferocity with which the thing with the butterfly face had protected them with.

It was strong, being able to lift a full grown wolf bigger than her up without a problem. It was fast too, she could barely keep up with those short jabs it made with its glossy dark leathery hands. The hands especially caught her eye, they were like Spike’s but had an extra finger and seemed longer and spidery.

What she noticed as well was it probably wasn’t faceless at all. When it had stopped to take off its own scarf she noticed underneath the peach colored skin of its chest and the clear lining where the white mask ended. So it wasn’t faceless, just wore a mask and could somehow could still see, hear, smell, and breathe past the moving black blobs on its face. The form of its face too seemed so wrong, it was flat with something jutting from the center. When it talked its lower jawed moved accordingly but overall its face just seemed too flat for any pony’s face.

Worst of all was the sounds it made. It could talk but before during the fight it sounded more like an animal. It growled, snarled, and at one time roared at the wolves just like some predatory animal. The way it sounded was vicious, even more savage than the wolves. It would have been terrifying to her had it not had its back to them.

Why did it protect them though?

“Applejack! Girls!” a pair of voices called from the grove’s entrance. Twilight Sparkle and Fluttershy rushed full speed into the grove. They gasped when they saw their friend’s back.

“Oh my gosh! Applejack are you okay?!” Twilight cried as she approached her friend.

Applejack put on a brave face, “It hurts but I’m fine now.”

“What happened?” Fluttershy gasped from where she floated slightly above the ground.

“Timber Wolves attacked us-“ Applejack began but was interrupted by the combined voices of the three foals.

“But we got saved!”

“Yeah that faceless pony from before came and rescued us!”

“It was amazing, he beat those wolves in the blink of an eye! And he isn’t that scary like we thought!”

“Yeah couldn’t be! Why else would he save us like that!”

“Girls! Slow down!” Twilight said, still worried for her friend but didn’t understand what was being said, “Now one at a time please tell me what happened. What Faceless Pony? Who saved you?”

With clarification from Applejack the three foals exclaimed in detail what happened right down to reenacting the fight scene.

“Oh dear, that sounds awful,” the peaceful Fluttershy said, “Applejack we should get you to Ponyville to make sure you’re alright.”

“I’m fine… but I guessin’ your right.” She followed close behind Fluttershy with the three foals in front of them. She stopped though when the purple unicorn didn’t move with them, “You comin’ Twi?”

Twilight frowned at the forest then looked at the ground at the strange footprints left in the ground. She turned and spoke seriously, “You go and get help Applejack, I’m going to investigate this so called ‘masked monster’ once and for all.”

“But Twilight!” Fluttershy called out but was too late.

Already Twilight was in the forest, hot on the trail of the masked monster that had for some reason saved her friends and the foals. Twilight wanted to know why, what this thing was, and most importantly was it dangerous.

[Gooood evening everyone, this is your host 'Out of Nothing' here with some little notes. You've probably notice I've cut back some on the fragmented way Rorschach speaks or perhaps even sound a little less like Rorschach. As I've explained some times before this is more to help the reader read things easier. I know some of you have mentioned that you prefer the fragmented sentences but overall I feel it would be best to be clear, not just sound like the ever so talkative Rorschach. You'll also notice I go into third person mode for the ponies since Rorschach isn't really there to see it but it has relevance enough to be mention, expect more of those occasions in the future but honestly I hope to cut back on that in the future if at all possible. Don't want my notorious third person mind going haywire again.

In some other news: things for me will be getting busy next week so don't be expecting my usual frequency of a chapter every other day (or somewhat), rather more expect every two days. Don't take this as a sign that I suddenly dropped off the grid, merely that my free time has been struck by a crowbar but with some rehabilitation will make an eventual recovery.

Finally two things in regards of what commentors have said. First off I want to thank everyone for taking the time to read the story and enjoy it, it gives me endless pleasure to hear people enjoy what they read and comment about it. I also like how people are able to point out mistakes I sometimes make, you have no idea how sore your eyes can get reading over pages of stuff you've already written or how annoying it is when things slip by you.

Okay turns out its actually three things instead of two, so third thing now! One of my earlier commentors to the story suggested Rorschach accidentally eat the Poison Joke. I love the idea but for the life of me I can't find a reason for Rorschach to stick some foreign flower into his mouth. Now then there might be a moment in the future where he falls into say a large patch of the stuff but ingestion isn't probably going to happen. Obviously if I do go with the idea I will thank the commentor who passed this idea along, sorry for the life of me I can't remember the username but rest assured I know who you are.

And that's about it. I think I'll mainly be putting my messages at the end of chapter. Not really much of a blogger. On another note I keep asking myself what the f___ I got myself into and why my chapters keep getting bigger. Luckily my sanity is of little importance to you my deary little readers.

Yours truly!

Ex-Nihilos, "Out of Nothing"]

(5) An Awkward First Encounter

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Chapter 5: An Awkward First Encounter

[First off I want to give a big thank you to AnonyMouse who was kind enough to take the time to edit this chapter, I’m glad to have someone finally point out all my flaws to me and who isn’t my mother! Jokes aside AnonyMouse I can't thank you enough!]

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Twigs, branches, and leaves lashed at her as the purple unicorn ran through the thick forest. She wasn’t sure anymore if she was still on the right track or even going the direction the monster had taken. Only a few signs of disturbed forest gave her any hint that something tall had just been through here.

It never occurred to her how far out she was from Ponyville or even how she was going to find her way back. The only times she had ever been this far into the Everfree forest had been when she and her friends ventured to find the Elements of Harmony and stop Nightmare Moon, and then again to confront a sleeping dragon whose snoring threatened to fill Equestria’s skies with smoke and ash. Even then there had been paths to follow. Out here in the remote wilderness there was no obvious path, the whole forest was untamed and wild.

Twilight was starting to think that running after this monster had been a bad idea.

Still, the urge to understand what this thing was pressed her forward. She hated not knowing, and what Applejack described, the aggression and strength it possessed, sent shivers down her spine thinking about the potential harm it could cause if it turned its sights on Ponyville. Yet things didn’t add up; this monster was to her an enigma wrapped in mystery.

She had to find out what it was.

Hands shoved into coat pockets I walked, mind abuzz with implication of what I’ve just done. No doubt I did right thing. Always been my purpose to safeguard the weak or innocent. Hasn’t changed whether I was in my dimension or not. Dead or alive. Troubled still over the ponies’ reactions to me.

I was foreign. Strange. Disturbing. Grotesque. Would be different if they realized where I came from, my reputation. Was feared by criminal underworld, merciless justice followed my wake in the form of shattered bodies and corpses. Sinners looked on in horror when I passed them, fearful that I might pass judgment upon their perverse lifestyles and wrongdoings. Yet just moments ago, I was offered a smile.

Never received a smile before, even when saving victims all I saw was fear in their eyes. They shunned away from me, like I was a mad dog that frothed at the mouth. Smiles weren’t genuine, disguises of terror or good nature. Flimsy like paper, guises only half finished. It angered me that they would try, insulting even. That smile those foals gave me, though. I knew people, those ponies were not human but their emotions were written on their face plain as day.

The smile those foals gave me was genuine thanks, genuine wonder of my presence.

Didn’t even agitate over comment of smell. Clothes were not in the best of conditions, body likely reeked of sweat and blood. Still no one has dared mention it to my face, no one currently living that is. Yet the way this Scootaloo (What other awful names did these ponies have?) spoke to me, it was teasing but was not malicious. Good natured joking.

Reminded me of partnership with Nite Owl.

Good times. Toppled mob bosses together. Accomplished more together than alone. Was a good friend. Shame I wasn’t. Still wonder how we became partners in the first place, knew he likely needed me for skills. Dan was never good at investigating, not like me, failed to see the scheme in things. Blind to overarching conspiracies. Too naïve, too good natured. Tough fighter though, genius with mechanics, money from inheritance helped with that.

Only true friend I ever had.

Shame he was weak and quit. Was easily influenced by Veidt. Blame Laurie for that. Temptress whore like her mother.

I stepped out of the forest into the clearing just in front of my shelter. I could already see my belongings, unmoved, from their high position. Nothing looked out of the ordinary. Wasn’t sure if I should worry about traps waiting for me; were wolves that smart? Didn't seem so, give wild animals too much credit. Will have to spend the day preparing for potential attacks during night. Must make plans to go hunt wolves the next day.

For now I'll tend to my wounds, stress of the fight reopened bite on heel and aggravated lacerations. Hopefully aloe grows nearby.

Twilight Sparkle slowed herself to a stop when she saw the bright light that shined through the trees before her. It was a clearing, a place of sandy silt and rock where the forest had refused to grow. From nearby she could hear the sounds of a river rushing by and above through the tree tops she could see the mountain slope, looking like a pillar of jutting grey rock that pierced the light blue sky.

Slowly she approached the edge of the clearing to get a better view of what lay ahead. Clinging against a tree, she gazed beyond the forest line into the clearing and was surprised to see the entrance of a well-lit cave. There, sitting near the campfire that lay just inside the cave, was the monster. Just as Applejack described, it was a strange thing that clad itself entirely in clothes. It sat in a way that would make anypony uncomfortable, its back bent forward so its elbows lay upon its knees. It rested its head upon the backs of its long spidery hands that vaguely reminded her of Spike’s little ones. Just like Applejack had said, it didn’t seem to be faceless at all. Without its scarf she could see a thin line of peach colored skin that separated the mask that served as its face from the rest of itself.

She found its mask strange. The black blots on its face seemed to ever be in motion, always moving to form new ambiguous shapes. The blots never moved beyond where its face should be, the sides and back of its head remaining stark white. She could even see the faint patterns of stitched fabric. Besides its fascinating mask its attire seemed foreign. Its two long thin legs, clothed in dirty leggings colored a dark navy with white pinstripes that covered the legs entirely, bent forward in the middle by pronounced knees. Its feet were large, pointed in tarnished shoes with large soles that at one time might have been fanciful. The tan coat it wore and its dark brown gloves were made of the same strange material, the coat long and tied at the waist by a long belt.

It sat there staring into the fire for a while, seemingly deep in thought. It sat so still it startled Twilight when she finally saw it move. It went outside and took a log from a pile of cut wood and tossed it into the flames. She thought at first it would go back to sitting but instead it left the cave to go to the river. It disappeared into the brush and the rocky cove became silent again.

She thought about following it to the river, but she feared any movement would alert the thing to her presence. She didn't have to wait long for it to return. In its hands it carried two lines that dangled fish and in the other he cradled a pile of green plants that she recognized as aloe. So it must have been an omnivore, Twilight felt almost sick at the thought of eating fish but it wasn’t unusual, when Fluttershy took care of animals that only ate meat she usually substituted actual red meat with fish. The unicorn supposed it would be better than observing this monster eat another land walking creature. She had the sudden fear that it might even eat ponies. She gulped at that and suddenly realized she had lost her focus. Glancing into the cave, she was glad she hadn’t focused as it seemed it had taken the time to descale and gut the fish. She was thankful she couldn’t see where it had disposed of the rest of it, it was bad enough to see the actual fish.

It placed the fish on sticks and put them over the flame. Once done with that it took a slab of rock and placed the aloe upon it. With another smoothed rock it began to mash the green leaves into a mush upon the rock. Twilight could only guess that it wasn’t planning to eat the aloe but rather make a salve of it. That was the only reason she could see for it to mash them into an inedible mix. Once satisfied it stopped and placed the slab on an adjacent rock.

It took its coat off and then the beige sweater it wore underneath, Twilight couldn’t help but gasp.

Underneath the coat and sweater it wore a dirty white shirt that covered only its torso but that was not what made her gasp. Its long arms were mostly devoid of hair and she could actually see the definition of its muscles. On nearly every inch of arm there was a scar somewhere. Some were fresh and still even bled while others were discolored, likely made years ago. It stood up and took off the last of shirt it wore and Twilight found that its torso was just the same. Every inch held some scar, old and fresh, and showed some signs of the beginnings of advanced age. It was grotesque, ugly to look at. It was also strangely fascinating. Like his arms she could see the shadows of its muscles underneath its skin move with every motion. She had the strong impression that it was strong and had lived a long, rough life.

It began to apply the aloe to its fresh wounds, the distinct cuts and bites of Timber Wolves. Yet it was strange, Applejack had never mentioned it was injured during its fight to protect her. She did mention that the wolves that attacked them looked like they had been in a battle recently? Perhaps it was with this thing?

The purple unicorn moved forward to get a better view of the scene, and immediately she regretted it.

A loud snap echoed through the rocky cove as a twig underneath her hooves broke the moment she placed her weight down upon it.

She held her breathe and stood tense as she watched the creature in the cove. It didn’t seem to react beyond pausing for a moment. It continued to apply the aloe to its wound and Twilight breathed a sigh of relief. That was until it called out.

“You can stop hiding now. Obvious presence.”

Its voice was deep, hoarse and harsh to be exact, and it spoke in short phrases rather than full sentences. She gulped and summed up what bravery she had. Slowly and hesitantly she stepped out into the light and into the cove. Trotting over to the cave, she felt her breath quicken the closer she got to the strange thing. It had its sightless mask on but she had the feeling it was watching her the whole time. She stood on the cave’s threshold, mere feet away from the monster. She hoped it couldn’t see her shaking.

More familiar reaction to me. Fear. For a bright purple pony she hid herself well. I only saw her when coming back from gathering fish and herbs. Purple coloring stood out among my memorized surroundings. Let her play her game. Hoped she would go away with curiosity sated. Should have known better.

Now here she was, the pony whose home I had broken into and who moments ago spied upon me. Hard to feel coarse with her, seeing the shiver of fear crawl down her spine each time I made a sudden move. Seemed like forever before she even started breathing again. Was about to tell her to go away when she spoke up.

“I-I-I’m sorry for spying on you, it wasn’t right for me to be watching you without your knowing,” she shakily said.

I turn momentarily to face her. These ponies had such huge eyes. Wondered how evolution could create such a thing, alternate dimension or not. I merely grunted as I roughly shoved more aloe salve into the three long cuts of a wolf’s claw that had sliced into my shoulder.

“Doesn’t that hurt?” She inquired curiously, even going as far as to lean to the side to get a better view of what I was doing.

“Used to pain.” I told her flatly.

“Oh… I guess I can see that… you know the place where I live, Ponyville, has a hospital you could go to. I mean you aren’t a pony… I don’t think… but they’d still help out anyone in need.”

“Not necessary.”

I could tell I was making her nervous with more coarse answers. Hopefully she’d go away soon, but instead she pressed on with her incessant talking.

“So… thank you for saving my friends back there. I don’t want to think what could of happened if you weren’t there.”

“Hurm,” I grunted as a reply.

The purple unicorn hesitated for a moment and pressed on, “Um… if you mind me asking though… what are you? I don’t think you’re a pony.”

“Human.” I said.

“I’ve never heard of a h-ew-man before... Can you tell me about yourself?”

“No.”

“Oh… well that’s okay you don’t need to tell me… so… where you from?”

“Not here.”

“Well I figured that but… uh nevermind... where’d you learn to speak Equestrian?”

“Just knew it.”

“What? How? It doesn’t work that way!”

“Don’t know.”

“Well if you would just talk to me maybe we could figure it out.”

“Don’t care.”

She was getting frustrated. Took guilty pleasure in it. Huffing a sigh she asked sarcastically, “You’re not much for talking are you?”

“No.”

“Well would you at least tell me what you’re doing living in the forest.”

“Surviving.”

“Would you be willing to come back to me with Ponyville to talk some more or maybe see to your wounds, or even just let Applejack thank you? You know, the pony you just saved?”

“Not a good idea.”

“Why do you say that?”

I finished applying the last of the aloe into the bite mark on my side and turn fully around. To her credit the purple unicorn didn’t shy away. She seemed far too cross with me to feel fear. My face shifts again as I speak.

“Bipedal. Menacing. Stories of a ‘Faceless Pony’. It'll cause panic. Won’t end well.”

She seemed to think on this, or at least her annoyance faded a little after getting more than just four words out of me.

“I… guess you’re right but how’d you know about that rumor… in fact,” She took a strong stance and gave me a hard look, “I recall that you got that name for terrorizing three little foals who meant you no harm.

I turn the sticks holding the fish over the flames as I reply, “Regret that. Caught me at... bad moment.”

“So it was you who was screaming?” Her voice grew soft and kind, “It sounded like you were in a lot of pain.”

“Used to pain,” I repeat flatly.

She frowned sadly at me but must of figured out that I wasn’t about to go into detail over it for she changed the subject.

“Oh I almost forgot to mention, my name is Twilight Sparkle!” She said happily.

I turned to look at her, she merely smiled back. Had assumed Scootaloo was the worst but this topped it. I sigh loudly, my misfortune to be in a place with names sounding more like they belong in cartoonist’s wet dreams. She tilted her head but didn’t say anything. Instead she spoke, “So are you going to tell me your name?”

“No.” I say.

“Well that isn’t very nice.”

“Not a nice person.”

“But you saved my friends just now, how could you say you’re not a nice person?”

“Doing the right thing, and being nice,two different things. I do the right thing, doesn’t mean I’m nice.”

She groaned and muttered to herself, “This isn’t going like I hoped it would.”

Getting cross again she looked at me, “Alright blunt questions it is. Are you dangerous?”

“Depends to what you’re referring to.”

“To ponies.”

“No.”

“Do you eat meat?”

“Yes.”

“Do you eat ponies?”

“No.”

“Do you plan to stay here in the forest for long.”

“Likely so.”

“Don’t you want to go home?”

“Yes.”

“Then why don’t you?”

“Not possible.”

Realization dawned on her and her questions became less heated, more sympathetic.

“Are you lost?”

“No.”

“But you can’t go back home, right?”

“Yes.”

“Why not?”

I took a moment to think of an answer that would satisfy her. Wasn’t about to tell her where I was from. She didn’t need to know.

“Impossibility.”

“What do you mean?”

“The way I came, not my choice, was one way. Can’t go back.”

“Oh. So what will you do now?”

“Survive for now.”

“I could explain the situation to the ponies down in Ponyville you know, they can be reasonable. You could…. Well at least be tolerated to be honest.”

“Town like yours, not the place for me.”

I move over to the fire and remove the cooked fish before they burnt. Placing them on same slate that I had mashed the aloe on I let them cool, besides did not want to eat in front of pony. She already looked sick enough seeing cooked fish. Looking outside I notice the dip of the sun.

She follows my gaze as I speak, “Getting late. Should go home. See that your friend is okay. Forest isn't safe at night.”

She sighed, she knew I was right but her curiosity wasn’t being satisfied by my blunt answers and uncooperative attitude. “Fine… can I come back tomorrow?”

“Rather you didn’t, but I can’t stop you.”

She seemed to take this as an acceptable answer, “Well would it at least be acceptable for me to tell my friend Applejack where you are so she can come thank you herself and give back your scarf?”

I merely grunted in response as I walked over to put on sweater and coat again, didn’t really care about the scarf nor cared for company. I sit back down to stare into the fire and listen to Twilight walk out of the cave. She stopped though. I turned and looked at her.

She had her back to me but she turned her head to look back. “One more question. You aren’t really faceless are you?”

I don’t answer.

“So why do you wear that mask?”

“Only face I have left.”

This seemed to give her more questions than answers but she seemed too worn to press the issue. She trotted off back into the forest as I called out to her, “When you get to the willow tree by the pond, follow the opposite direction of the moss that grows on it. That'll take you back to town.”

With that, she disappeared and I was left to myself again. Lifting my mask up over my mouth I took the slate of cooked fish and began to eat. “Annoying little thing,” I muttered. Probably best I didn’t mention my prior knowledge of her home, or that I still had her book in my possession. Would have to give that back at some point.

Night finally descended upon the forest, which meant its predators would be coming out now. I was prepared for the coming nocturnal siege that might come. Sharpened wooden spears. Plenty of raging fire. And finally, a string laden with bones from Timber wolf to signal a silent approach upon the cave. Curious scavengers came early in the night and feasted the discarded fish innards that I had tossed into a whole I had made far from my camp. Since then it has been quiet. No yellow eyes shined through the night, no growls permeated the air, and no roars struck the calm night.

Came as surprise to me. After previous night’s violent siege. Was expecting another force to come from the forest. Instead there was only the calm that greeted me when I first came here. Was unsettling. Hadn’t realized how tired I was either. Two days without sleep has taken its toll on me. Had to rely upon early warning line, no choice but to sleep.

I lay down upon one of the long rocks that graced my shelter. Cold, hard, somehow comfortable. I drifted off to sleep quickly with plans for the morning for a hunt on the wolves.

Last thought to pass through mind was of a yellow foal with red mane giving me a genuine smile.

That night back on Sweet Apple Acres Applejack lay comfortably in her own bed under the soft glow of the candle by her bed. Around her were her five closest friends and her big brother who had refused to leave her side since Fluttershy told him she had been hurt. He had made quite the scene at Ponyville Hospital where Applejack was being treated. The doctors thankfully let her leave quickly as the wound she got wasn’t very bad, she would have to go back a few more times to take some medicine and vaccines just in case but overall they expected a full recovery quickly. There wouldn’t even be much of a scar left once it healed it.

In her hooves she held the white scarf that doctors said helped save her from serious injury by stopping the bleeding. It was cleaned once by the hospital staff and returned to her but the pink mark of where her blood was still remained. The sight should have caused her stomach to turn but strangely it didn’t. She just felt thankful, for herself and for her little sister and her friends.

But she didn’t even know who to thank.

As she lay there she was vaguely listening to the slightly heated discussion her friends were having over what happened. Twilight Sparkle had come out of the forest during the evening with a strangely mild story to tell. She and this ‘monster’, Applejack’s savior, had had a very blunt discussion. Twilight already let it be known her annoyance with the hew-man, as she called it, and its obvious hostility to her. Once Applejack was out of the hospital and all their friends had joined her in her home Twilight had related the entire conversation she had with the faceless hew-man. There really wasn’t much to tell though.

He, as Twilight described, was an ugly thing with pale skin and almost no hair with scars all over his body. The way the purple unicorn described it, it really sounded like a monster that had only barely tolerated her questions. Then again, the unicorn never had much patience for those who just didn’t want to talk. Most of her friends had to agree.

Rarity found his attire fascinating, even asking Twilight to go into much greater detail over this mask he wore, though without seeing it for herself she didn’t seem all that impressed. She wasn’t about to trek through the forest to go see him either, let alone deal with his "very abrasive and uncivilized ways".

Fluttershy found the idea of him cooking a fish strange, let alone eating it that way. She did feed her carnivorous animals fish, but usually they were caught by other animals for her use and never did she ever cook them. The thought filled them all with a sense of disgust. She too found his personality very unlikable going on what Twilight told her, and that was saying something for the Element of Kindness.

Pinkie Pie, strangely enough, vouched for him with remarks like, "He’s just being evasive is all" and "Maybe it’s his foreign custom". Her favorite questions, though, pertained to what parties he seemed interested in or if he was a fan of streamers and confetti. Twilight couldn’t seem to dissuade her that the faceless hew-man wasn’t all that interested in parties.

Rainbow Dash’s main concern was how tough this monster was. It took a lot of persuading from Twilight for her not go and fight him for scaring the foals. Only once Twilight explained that he apparently was sorry for that did she calm down enough to listen rather than go into action.

Applejack saw it all in a different light though. Her friends weren’t there, they didn’t hear the anger, the pain that it cried out with. She wasn’t sure what to think of it all. Of course she was thankful, but something about this faceless hew-man scared her. She wasn’t sure what it was but what Twilight said confirmed what she had been thinking all day.

Just being around this hew-man made the air seem stale, the light less bright. His very presence seemed to add malevolence into the air. The foals might not have felt it, they were too young to understand, but that monster was like a mad dog.

Just like all mad dogs, you never knew when they were going to snap unless they were helped.

[Hellllllo again readers, this is your neighborhood drunkard slash writer ‘Out of Nothing’ with another little note. This time it will be little and not three paragraphs long. First off thank you all for reading, cannot begin to tell you how good it makes me feel to have readers comment, makes me rethink being half drunk when I write, whether it’s good, bad, ugly, pictures, or whatever on my story and give it the time of day by just reading it (My favorite ones still have to be how surprised everyone is on how I haven’t gone and screwed this all up yet, fingers crossed I don’t go do something stoopid like say turn Rorschach into Pinkie Pie’s sidekick! Or actually Pinkie Pie AS a sidekick would work too, actually I’m writing that down for future stupidity…).

Alright that’s it, I’m done with that, just one last thank you to AnonyMouse for his epic editting skills and willingness to put up with my writing.

Thank you all,
Ex-Nihilos]

(6) The Berserker's Justice

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Chapter 6: The Berserker's Justice

Edited by: AnonyMouse

Rorschach’s Journal
Day 5

I had a dream last night. I was back in the grove where I had fought the wooden wolves but it was different. It was night, a thick forest night where no light from the sky could penetrate the canopy, leaving the forest itself in thick miasmic darkness that hung heavy upon a man’s body. With some effort I break through the darkness and step into the grove not in a crash but a silent rustle.

Just like before there were the cowering ponies, though in my dream they were drabs of grey rather than the pastel colors I remember. Over them stood a familiar and enraging sight. Adrian Veidt. I felt my blood boil beneath my skin at the sight of him. He turns to face me, his look a serious solemn look, I don’t wait, I charged him. It was the same as in Antarctica, I was little match for the world’s fastest and strongest athlete. Every rage filled punch I threw met air when he either dodged or blocked, deftly he would return my aggression with a calm strike of his own, breaking my ribs or my fingers. I could only imagine the pain I would have felt had this been real.

He smashed me against a tree and said something. I don’t know what it was, it was like an echo of a speech he said long ago. It didn’t matter; the sound of his voice was enough to fill me with enough hatred that I forgot the spectral pain and ignore my twisted broken fingers. Just as before He stepped out of the way of each one, he’d strike me back, but I refused to relent.

He grabbed hold of my fist and held it there, giving me a smug smile. For a moment his eyes glowed yellow. My vision turned red. I struck my leg out and broke his shin. He didn’t even register the pain as he fell back. I was upon him, and all he did was give me that smug smile. That conceited smile he used when he admitted to killing millions of lives. That egotistical smile he gave when he accepted the award for the Nobel Peace Prize years before. That pompous smile he used when he gave up fighting crime. That blasted curve of his lips, the slight sheen of his teeth. It sickened me, it enraged me. I screamed but no sound came out as I pummeled his face in to get rid of that self-satisfied grin on his face. He just looked at me and let each punch strike him. I didn’t stop. Even after his eyes rolled up into the back of his bruised head I kept hitting him. I stopped using my hands and struck him with my forehead, blood trickled down into my face and stung my sight but still I did everything I could to get rid of that taunting face.

I stop. Veidt’s face had gone pale, his skin cold. His head leaked of blood and cerebral fluids, his face a grisly contortion of a Picasso artwork. He still had that smile on his lips but I didn’t strike again. Instead I looked up and saw the horror on the ponies faces. They shunned away from me, no genuine smile was given, no heart warmed thanks. Just that abhorrent look they gave me. I look back down at the body but don’t see Veidt’s face. Instead I see my face, I see the Rorschach mask. It was looking right at me, the inside of the mask filling up with blood and spilling out the seams. The black blots move into a familiar shape. I saw a dog with its head split open in that face. I move to take the mask off, to be sure again that it was Veidt underneath it and not some trickery.

The moment I reach out the face jumped up at me, its hands went up and pulled the mask off its mouth. It vomited a black bile into my sight.

I woke up then. Drenched in sweat.

Had to take off my face after that, was hard to breathe. Had to be sure as well I was no longer in the dream. I turn the face around to look at the block blots. All I saw were black blots against a white backdrop.

Sigmund Freud once said dreams were a look into the subconscious. Took little stock in it, never liked intellectuals. All ideas but little action. Yet I think I glimpsed into my own mind just as Freud theorized, the tinkering and motivation of what worked without my knowing.

Not sure what it means.

Twilight heard the high pitched squeal before it crashed through her door. When it did it nearly broke her door off its hinges. The squeal was heightened by a few octaves as it entered the room; all concentration the lavender unicorn had on the report she was writing evaporated. Twilight already had a good idea of who it was, turning around only confirmed it.

“Ohyesyesyesyesyesyesyes!” The white unicorn cheered as she bounced off the tree library’s floor, going in circles. Rarity stopped in front of Twilight but continued to bounce in place as she giggled in her high pitched voice, “Hehehehe! Oh Twilight you are not going to believe who just visited my Boutique! Guessguessguessguessguess!”

Twilight leaned back from the exuberant unicorn and answered hesitantly, “ummm I honestly don’t know Rarity.”

“Guess!” Rarity shouted at her, the volume of her voice blasting her bangs back.

“Okay okay! Was it-“

Twilight didn’t get to finish as Rarity shoved her face right up to hers, “It was Sapphire Shores herself! Can you believe it?!”

Twilight took a step back for breathing room away from the hyperventilating pony, happily she exclaimed, “The Pony of Pop? That’s amazing Rarity! Did she order any of your outfits?”

“She ordered five more jewel encrusted outfits!” Rarity said as she gave one last hop before stopping to catch her breathe. She turned serious but her voice was still elated with the news, “The only thing is I need to go out and get more jewels if I want to get her order done in time! That means I’ll need to find a whole new gem lode and I was hoping I could get Spike’s help!”

“Oh, well he’s in the kitchen right now, let me go-“

The lavender unicorn was cut off again by a clatter of pots and pans in the kitchen. Spike raced of the kitchen and skidded to a halt in front of Rarity, panting like an obedient dog, “I heard everything! Anything for you Rarity!”

Twilight rolled her eyes at her little assistant’s antics but couldn’t help but smile. Rarity patted Spike on the head, “Oh thank you so much Spike! Now then, we’ll need to get a cart to carry the gems. I know the perfect place to go find those little beauties out there! Come along now Spike!”

With the little dragon in tow, the two exited the tree home as quickly as Rarity had come. Using her magic the white unicorn slammed the door behind them, leaving the bewildered Twilight to her reports. Looking out her window at the two leaving she shook her head at the sight of the little dragon following Rarity like a love stricken puppy. Returning to her desk her horn began to glow softly, enveloping her quill in the same violet glow. She began write.

Dear Princess Celestia,

I write to inform you of a strange new creature that I’ve met in the Everfree forest. The creature, a hew-man, as he calls himself, strangely understands full Equestrian and speaks a simple form of it. I’ve never seen anything like him before. He refused to talk to me and although he isn’t hostile, he's not very friendly either. Even so when one of my friends was in danger this hew-man was the one to save her. I am thankful but cautious of him. I hope that you can help enlighten me to this creature’s origin as you know the history of Equestria and its creatures more than anyone else I know. Have these hew-mans been seen anywhere else? Where do they come from? And most importantly what are they like? Anything you can tell me Princess will be of great help. Thank you.

Your student,

Twilight Sparkle

She stared at the finished letter, rereading the wording carefully. A letter to the Princess had to be perfect before it was sent after all. Hopefully by the time Spike and Rarity returned it would be ready to send to Celestia. For now though she had no trouble looking over it just to be sure she had it all just right.

“Oh I just can’t wait to get started on the costumes! One for each type of gem, with sapphires and rubies and garnet! Oh Sapphire Shores is just going to be amazed at my work! Don’t you think so Spike?” Rarity joyfully said. Turning to look at the dragon pulling the red cart behind her she smiled happily to see him nod vigorously.

“For sure! She’ll be amazed by anything you make Rarity!” Spike replied lovingly.

“Why thank you Spike. Once we get the gems we need you can have some for yourself too for all the wonderful help you’ve given me!”

“Really? Ah sweet!” Spike exclaimed as he jumped up. Already his mind was wandering to thoughts of what gems he should have. Sapphire was good but there was also emerald or maybe some amethyst. Chancing a glance up he spotted a familiar pony heading in their direction. Rarity had her eyes closed listing out the different styles of costumes she could make with the gems at the moment so the purple and green dragon called out, “Hey isn’t that Applejack coming our way?”

“Hm?” Rarity looked down at Spike then up to where he was pointing at. To her surprise it was the orange cowpony heading their way. She had already spotted her and Spike and was heading in their direction. She no longer wore the thick white bandages around her midsection anymore and carried a pair of saddlebags.

“Howdy Spike, hey Rarity!” She said, coming to a stop in front of them.

“Applejack, what are you doing out of bed? And where are your bandages?” Rarity asked, looking over the cowpony’s shoulder at her barely noticeable wound and the slightly open saddlebags, “and where are you going with those apples and apple pie?”

“Ah shoot, those bandages were getting’ mighty itchy, too much for my likin’. Besides it don’t hurt no more ‘cept if I strain myself too hard. I was actually on my way into the Everfree Forest to see the hew-man. Ah wanted to thank ‘im properly for saving me ‘n Applebloom and her friends. Twilight gave me the directions last night to where he is.”

Rarity gave Applejack a repulsed looking, “You’re trekking through the muddy forest just to see that barbaric ruffian? And to give him apple pie? I’m thankful he saved you and my Sweetie Belle but I don’t think he’s much of a socialite...”

Applejack nodded, “Ah guess not. But still, I reckon I gotta thank him some way or 'nother. I figure what better way than to offer up some of Granny Smith’s world famous apple pie! Besides, it ain’t like he’s gonna try ‘n eat me or nothin’.”

Rarity still frowned but nodded, “I guess not but do be careful around him. Who knows what sort of… things he gets himself into out in those woods.”

The orange pony should have suspected that Rarity’s concern would be how dirty he was. One didn’t exactly expect to get clean out there in the woods after all. Maybe while she was there she could convince him to come back to Ponyville with her? She doubted it would work, considering how vehemently opposed he was to Twilight offering the same thing, but no harm in trying she supposed.

Noticing the red wagon Spike was pulling, Applejack asked, “So where are you two headed off to anyway?”

Spike gestured to himself and proudly stuck his chest out, “I’m helping Rarity gather some gems for a new line of clothes she’s making!”

Rarity squealed, causing Applejack to cringe, “oh Applejack it’s so wonderful! This morning Sapphire Shores herself came by to order a line of gem encrusted outfits!”

Applejack smiled, “Wow! That’s great Rarity. Well don’t let me hold you up too long, I’ll see y’all later then! Have fun you two!”

“We will!” Spike called out as Applejack passed them both.

“And remember what I said Applejack! Be careful around the hew-man!” Rarity called out as well to the leaving Earth Pony.

With its head caught in my stranglehold I gave the wolf’s neck a jerk. I was rewarded with a satisfying snap of vertebra breaking and the wolf stopped struggling. I breathed a sigh of relief and let go of the bark body. The creature fell hard upon the ground, stumbling down the mossy cliff into the rocky ravine below me.

It had taken a long hunt but I had finally slain one of the wild lone wolves that rampaged through the forest. The distinct burn mark on the now dead wolf’s side made me sure it was the right one. Shame the others got away. Will need to track them down again and continue the hunt. One kill would do for now.

I at least could take comfort that the new pack has not tried anything against me. I’ve seen little sign of them since they first scouted my den. In essence I’m cleaning house for them, might be why they’ve let me continue unimpeded.

Care very little for reasons of wild animals.

Descending the small cliff I go to retrieve the fallen body. Couldn’t eat it, nor burn it but can find some uses for its bones. No sense in wasting. I reached down and hefted the corpse over my shoulder, I get ready to climb the rocky ravine.

I’m stopped by a sudden and strange sound that overcame my senses.

I grit my teeth as a buzzing sound starts to grow from inside my own head. I groan and stumble; the wolf slips off my shoulder and hits the ground with a loud thud. My hands go up to cover my ears but the buzzing in my head persisted into an ear splitting volume.

“Raaaaah!” I cry as I fall to my knees from the agonizing hum that invaded my head. Echoed whispers call to me from beyond the buzzing. My eyes felt like they were going to burst from their place and my heart felt like it had been stabbed, the burning blade digging into my cavity.

As suddenly as it came it was gone. The burning in my chest was gone. I feel a wetness coming from my ears. Lifting my mask I feel them and am surprised to see blood.

“What was that…” I mutter through my ragged breathing, looking around the forest for some sign of where the attack had come from. The forest was just the same, it was only me and at my side the dead wolf. Once I was sure I was okay I stood back up. I wiped away the blood on the sides of my head as my ears slowly stopped ringing. Mind was reeling, trying to think of possible reasons for what happened. First thought was possible stroke, yet didn’t seem right. Dementia setting in? Likely not. Something environmental then, plausible. Strange creatures did lay in wait in this forest, might have been a creature with subsonic calls, but where was it? Final option was it was something entirely different. That worried me.

With my senses cleared I picked up the wolf’s body and continued up the rocky ravine back to my camp. Thoughts still went through my mind over the whispers behind the buzzing. Malicious sounding voices, reminded me of something in my past.

“Hurm,” I mutter, moving in the direction of camp.

Sun had passed its peak when I returned to the camp. The sight of an orange pony sitting near my smoldering fire caused me to stop. Same pony from the grove. Glad to see she looked better, no more bandage. Displeased she was here in my camp.

“Annoyance,” I growled and dropped the wolf’s body into the brush, no sense in scaring her with a corpse. The noise seemed to get her attention as she looked right at where I was. Taking my gloves off, I stepped out into the cove.

Shoving them into my pockets I called out, “Dangerous forest to be in. Wanted to see me I assume?”

She smiled nervously and nodded, “Uh yes’m, sir.”

“Hrm,” I say as I approach her. She doesn’t shy away, stays her ground. Passing her I went and grabbed the flint with some fresh firewood. Piling it all into the circle I started a small fire.

She was still standing there nervously, likely thinking of something to say. Perhaps frightened by me. Struck by some sudden insight she exclaimed, “Oh!” and reached into one of the bags at her sides. With her teeth she pulled out my scarf. Looked like it had been washed and cleaned, didn’t even have grime that was on it before I gave it to her. “I uh brought yer scarf back.”

She offered it out to me. Taking it I looked it over, then nodded my thanks. I folded it and placed it at my side. I speak, perhaps more solemnly than I intended, “Thank you. Didn’t need to bring it back.”

“Well’n it was yours in the first place so might as well give it back see’n as I don’t need it. Oh and ah brought you this,” she reached into the other bag and to my surprise pulled out a pie. Smelled like apples. She held out a hoof and balanced the pie pan on it. One of my eyebrows raise in surprise over the strangeness of this all. She offered me a smile and continued, “ah don’t know if you eat apple pie ‘er not but this ‘ere is my Granny Smith’s famous pie, the best pie in all of Equestria!”

She places the pie in my hands and for a while I just stare at it. Visions of white picket fences and green glassed soda cross my mind, the kind one only sees in colored television anymore. I can’t recall the last time I’ve had pie let alone offered one. Seems like an eternity ago that I even thought about green glassed cola. Heavenly smell of cooked crumbly bread and sweet apples. Perfect crust. Before I realize what I was doing I was smirking beneath my true face, “hrm, American love…”

“Uh, pardon?” The orange pony asked, giving me a curious look.

“Nothing.” I say, would be too hard to explain nor did I have the care to begin so. “Why give this to me?” I asked after a pause.

She simply grinned at me as she answered, “Well to thank you of course.” She then frowned and went on, “Don’t they thank you fer helpin’ another pony… err hew-man out back where you come from?”

I recall last thank you I got, prostitute was being mugged and robbed. She spat in my face and ran screaming when I took a step toward her. Thought brings sickening feeling to mind. People never offered help to one another, not without cause. Greedy. Selfish. Thankless. They’d rather wallow alone in their misery and speak woes of their conditions, like fat pigs that complain of the filth they crawl in yet refuse to get out of it.

“Not exactly,” I finally say.

“Well then they should, it was mighty brave what you did back there!” She said. I look at her strangely. I’m not sure what to say. Never had such thanks before. Smell of pie again captures my attention. “Nothing to give to you,” I say.

She immediately waves it off with her hoof, “think nothing of it, it’s my pleasure and it’s a gift after all, no need to repay a gift.” For a while we are both silent, both of us awkwardly looking at each other. I never got the chance to see a victim again after saving them. They never wanted to see me again, didn’t care to see them either.

She was the one to break the silence, “So my name is Applejack. I know you met Twilight already but didn’t seem keen on givin’ yer name. Would you be willing to tell me? So I know who I’m thankin’?”

I hesitate for a moment. Would have to give a name eventually, saw no harm in telling her. I reply, “Rorschach.” This pony didn’t annoy me as much, not like the lavender one with her persistent, endless questions.

“Well that’s an interesting name, I like it though.” She said with a smile.

I feel another strange pang of shock from the comment but I refuse to let her see my reaction. Wouldn’t get used to this idea of being thanked any time soon. I watch the fire grow into a full fire, back into life. Comforting to watch fire burn. All things put into perspective before its flames. A soft giggle next to me breaks my attention. I turn to look at her and see she’s holding back a laugh. “What?” I asked darkly.

“Hehe, nothing sorry. Just your face looks like two rabbits fightin’ over an apple right now.” She said gesturing to my face with her hoof.

I blink, then turn back to the fire, placing the pie to my side on top of the scarf I speak, “Is there something else you want to ask me? No other reason why you remain.”

Applejack frowned, “Well… there is one thing I wanted to ask.”

Should have known there was an ulterior motive, “Out with it,” I say harshly.

She gulps nervously then speaks, “Well… I was hoping you could tell me…. I was hoping you could teach me to fight the way you did.” I tilt my head as I turn my attention from the fire to look at her. She shakes her head and frowns sadly, “I couldn’t hold my own against those wolves… and if I didn’t get the help then I’m scared ta think what woulda happened. If I could just fight better maybe I could ‘ave held my own by myself.”

One of my eyebrows raise in surprise. Was not expecting this. She goes on; expecting to convince me, but my mind was already made up before she even began to explain. “Maybe I’m askin’ too much, I don’t know, but I’m a fast learner and can hold my own just as well. I just need someone who knows what fightin’ is like to teach me, the way you handled those wolves like they were nothing. I want to be able to protect other ponies….”

“Hurm…you’re too soft. Don’t have what it takes to fight like me,” I say.

She growled angrily, “What’s that suppose ta mean? I ain’t weak, tougher than most ponies ah know and that ain’t boastin’.”

Resting my elbows onto my knees I looked at her and into her eyes. She was strong willed, tough, sounded honest enough, but she lacked a quality fighters like me had.

“Do you wake up in the morning looking to cause someone else harm?” I ask coolly.

She frowns and answers slightly confused, “well no but-“

“Think you could stomach the sound of bones breaking and shattering? Hear cries of misery and agony of pain? Take joy in watching them bleed?”

She was getting nervous over my description, “No... but-“

I interrupt her quickly, “Given the chance would you have killed those wolves in the grove to protect the foals behind you rather than let them get away?”

“Of course not!” Applejack cried, “Ah don’t want to learn ta fight to go hurtin’ other ponies, I just want to be able to defend myself with discipline …. I just want to be strong, especially against things that mean me and my family harm.”

I think on what she says and speak slowly at first, “Will always be someone stronger than you. Way the world works. It is what you do when confronted with stronger force that matters. I'm not as strong as you think. To those who thrive on terrorizing the innocent ,I’m a merciless avenger, but I have been beaten before by fighters more discipline than myself. What keeps me strong is that I don't give up, and neither do you. Your tenacity is your strength; that's obvious enough from your wish to better defend your friends.” She gave me a surprised look, not expecting the praise I gave her. She should know that it was true already.

I continue, staring intently into her green eyes, “You're too soft. Fighting the way I do isn't your answer. Not filled with rage for injustice. A hatred for sinners. A merciless punishment upon the wicked. You have no thirst for violence. Cannot fight like me. Fighters like me seek violence. Driven by hate. I can't help with what you seek.”

She shrunk back and looked to kick at the dirt on the ground, frightened by what I was saying. Perhaps it was fear of me, or perhaps at the thought of fighting. Her heart was in the right place, wouldn’t be a good teacher for her teaching her to fight. I cannot be imitated; she’d only get herself hurt. Recall newspaper article years ago. Private investigator tried to imitate my style of investigation and fighting criminals, nearly got killed. Idiot. Went by some punctuation mark as handle.

“I will tell you this,” she looked up at the sound of my voice and returned to her calm stance again, “fighting is being in control of your motions and preparing for actions against you. Never watch your opponent’s limbs, always watch their eyes and chest. They will tell you when they are going to strike and where if you see where they look. From their chest you can see their limbs from the corners of your eyes. Instinct takes over.”

She sat down on the ground and listened to me like the student to the sage. I continue on, ignoring my own allusion, “Second, watch your surroundings. Use it to your advantage but never let it hinder you. Keep the high ground. Finally, strike with finality. Do not draw out fights, end it fast and decisively.”

Applejack tilted her head, “Is that all it really takes? I mean besides the…. Hurting part, I thought there would be more to it.”

“Hm, depends on who you ask. Some will say a calm heart makes a fighter, others say violent spirit. Basics remain the same, all about motion and control. Hurting others is easy. Avoiding getting hurt is harder.”

Applejack seemed to think on this before speaking, “And this’ll help me the next time I get in a fight?”

I nod, "For you, best avoid a fight. But yes, that should help."

Applejack sighed, “It must come naturally to you, fightin’ I mean, the way you go an’ talk about it so casually.”

I grunted. She had no idea how true her statement was. Silence reigned again with both I and the pony staring into the fire. For the first time it was I who broke the silence, “If there’s nothing more. You should be going.”

Applejack chuckled, “Is that yer way of tellin’ others to go away?”

I look up and blink, feel like I had misspoken. “Not… my intention-“

“S’okay, I understand you’d rather be on yer own fer a bit now.” She said as she got up again. She turned around and looked at me as she said, “Don’t worry; I know the way back to town. Thanks for the talk and thank you again, Rorschach, for what you’ve done for us ponies.”

I watch her as she trots off into the forest and out of sight. I’m left to my thoughts again. Next to me the apple pie still gave off steam. Still smelled fresh. I pick it up and hold it in my hands. Generosity. It's a funny thing. Have thoughts of Manhattan in my mind. Recall the colored television and its ideals of a perfect suburban America. Small towns with fresh smell of pie and cut grass in the air, green glass of soda. Reality was much darker. Grime, filth, and blood tainted streets of concrete and asphalt. Immigrants. I’m reminded of the Comedian, his purpose and ideals. A parody of the American dream, a joke on American love. “American love….” I find myself saying,”Hurm, more like comes from the barrel of a gun.”

Applejack’s hooves hit the soft floor of the forest as she walked. She was feeling better with herself now, better since the incident at the grove. The hew-man Rorschach spoke harshly at times and always seemed to have an edge to his voice that could cut, but he wasn’t bad; at least not when speaking to her. Perhaps Twilight had inadvertently insulted him when she had met him? She did have the tendency to do that without knowing and Rorschach seemed to be the type to take offense very quickly. It could also very much just be he was not in the mood to be talking with anypony.

Some things about their conversations still stuck in the Earth pony’s mind, words that worried her. The way he talked about hurting others, the way he spoke of it, it seemed like he reveled in the act of fighting. Asking him to teach her how to fight had turned out to be a bad idea. His words only served to remind her of the savagery that she saw in him when he fought off the wolves. Yet she couldn’t lie to herself, half the reason she went to see him was so he could tell her how she could keep something like the wolves from happening again. At least she didn’t have to leave empty hooved.

Applejack was headstrong, determined to do things on her own. She knew that sometimes she needed help after last Apple bucking season, when she had ended up needing her friends to help her out in place of Big Macintosh. Still, she preferred her independence by handling things by herself. The incident in the grove shook her to the core when she realized she couldn’t protect Applebloom on her own.

Rorschach was right about her peaceful nature. The thought of hurting others didn’t sit well with her. She wasn’t a fighter, nor did she think she wanted to be after talking to someone who was more than comfortable badly injuring others. Even so, that didn’t mean she got nothing from their talk. What the hew-man said still rang in her head. Walking through the forest she whispered to herself, “Watch the eyes and chest. Be mindful of your surroundings. Be decisive. Three simple little tips. Could that really be all there is to it?”

Reaching the old Willow Tree, she took the direction to Ponyville, still lost in thought. Before she even realized it she was back in Ponyville walking along its smooth cobbled roads. Crossing the town square to get to the road that led to Sweet Apple Acres she stopped when she noticed her friends talking nearby. Trotting over she called out, “Howdy girls! What’s going on?”

“Hey Applejack!” Twilight happily greeted her friend, “Pinkie Pie was just telling us about a party she wants to have later.”

On cue Pinkie Pie started hopping up and down in front of Applejack, “It’s gonna be so great Applejack! There’s going to be balloons, candy, cupcakes, and party games!”

“Wow, that sound’s mighty nice Pinkie. I wouldn’t miss one of your parties fer the world,” Applejack smiled.

“Hey, where you been all day anyway?” A voice above them called out. Each of the ponies looked up to see Rainbow Dash hovering over them. She was giving Applejack a harsh, inquisitive look.

Applejack smiled nervously, “Oh me? Uh, I was just in the forest talking to Rorschach.”

Fluttershy looked confused and asked, “um who?”

Applejack shook her head, “Oh sorry, Rorschach is the name of that hew-man Twilight met and saved me.”

“Oh so he wouldn’t give me the time of day but goes right out and tells you his name?” Twilight said, exasperated.

“Well, it did take a while to get him to say it. He ain’t one fer talking.”

Pinkie Pie resumed hopping again, “Oh! Oh! Oh! What’d you two talk about? Did he say anything about parties? Oh would he want to come to my party today? What kind of balloons does he like? Does he like cupcakes and candy? Does he know any party games?!”

Applejack smirked, “Well I uh don’t think he’s much of a party person Pinkie, see-“

She was caught off from a cry in the distance that was steadily getting closer. All five of the ponies turned around to see a frantic Spike rushing towards them, arms raised into the air in panic.

He skidded to a halt right before them and quickly started pointing and gesturing in the direction he had just come from.

“Rarity! Woods! Jewels! Dogs! Taken! Save her!”

The ponies shared a collective look of confusion but the little dragon’s panic made it clear something was wrong. Grabbing Spike with her teeth Twilight tossed the dragon onto her back and rushed off in the direction he had been gesturing to. The other four ponies followed close behind her.

It took them a while to get Spike to stop hyperventilating. After breathing into a paper bag a few times he calmed down enough to explain to them what happened. That morning he and Rarity had been gathering gems when three creeps jumped them. They called themselves the Diamond Dogs and they had found out that Rarity could find pockets of gem stones in the ground. Spike tried his best to fight them off but they managed to steal away Rarity and drag her down a hole.

Applejack figured it would have been easy enough to save her if Spike just showed them where the hole was. They realized quickly that wouldn’t be the case as the barren ground that Spike brought them too was covered in open holes. Each time they tried to get close to the holes a pair of dogs would fill them back up. It was only until Spike sacrificed a gem Rarity gave him that morning were they able to enter the expansive tunnels of the Diamond Dogs.

With the help of a gem seeking spell Twilight had learned from Rarity the group managed to find their way through the most gem laden tunnel to where the dogs were keeping Rarity. They saw no signs of the dogs until they heard Rarity’s cries in the darkened caves.

Stopping just before a large cavern they spotted a rusty cage door at the other end of the chamber. Applejack was the first to step when she felt something heavy hit her back. Before she could cry out a rope was around her face. The same was happening to the other ponies as Diamond Dogs dropped off from above to land on their backs. “More work horses,” one of the large dogs growled and laughed.

Applejack wasn’t about to let that happen.

“Buck ‘em off girls!” She cried as she jumped up and reared, trying her best to get the dog off her back. Her friends did the same to try and get their respective dogs off their back. The Diamond Dogs held on for dear life. Their grips on the ponies finally slipped and they were tossed against the rock wall eventually by each one of the ponies.

They weren’t done though.

The dogs, though stunned, were quick to recover. They grumbled and turned to face the ponies and with a series of barks they charged again. The previously triumphant ponies scattered as the first dog got to them. The first dog’s charge met with no pony and struck the rock wall behind them hard. The other dogs slowed themselves down and started to chase after the scattering ponies.

Applejack stood her ground; one of the dogs had spotted her. It approached her on its hind legs, looking down menacingly at the cowpony. Still the pony stood her ground. Her friends needed her. The Diamond Dog took a step forward and leered down upon her, looking ready to swipe her away. A voice in the back of her head spoke, watch the eyes and chest. She looked at the dog’s beady eyes, they stared intently at her but she noticed how they shifted to her right for a moment. She watched its chest for motion. Out of the peripherals of her sight she spotted the move, from the right just as she predicted. Side stepping out of the way the large claw she quickly countered by turning around and kicking straight in its face. The dog yelped and fell back, dazed and confused.

Applejack smirked as the voice in her head told her to be decisive when you strike. The pony gave one final kick and the dog was out cold. Suddenly the voice in her head interrupted her triumph. Mind your surroundings. Looking to her side she spotted a dog rushing at her. Nearby she saw a loose rock that had come free from the wall when the dogs had charged. Just as the dog was upon her she rolled the large rock in its path and got ready for the coming fall. The dog’s front leg tripped over the rock and the body flipped over on to the cold ground. A kick from Applejack’s strong back legs knocked him out cold.

“Hah!” She cheered looking at the two unconscious dogs. Looking around she saw the others had dealt with the dogs that had been after them. Three dogs covered in confetti were whimpering in a corner in the face of Fluttershy’s stare. With the use of one of the ropes that had been around her mouth Rainbow Dash zipped in and tied the three together. Twilight used her magic to tighten the rope and tied it in a complex knot she had learned from a book about sea sailing. Pinkie Pie smiled and gave a small cheer. She turned around and gave Applejack a mock salute. The cowpony gave a tip of her hat to the crazy pink pony.

Anymore cheering was cut off by another one of Rarity’s cries.

The ponies crashed through the rusty cage door, Spike at the helm riding on Twilight’s back and wielding a stalactite as a sword. To their surprise they did not find a captive Rarity but rather found her pulling a large cart of gems and menacing the three dog leaders.

The cowering dogs begged them to take Rarity away, even offering the gems as well to go with her. Anything to get the loud, annoying pony away from them. The ponies were happy to oblige and quickly left with their loot and their friend. Rarity might have been a lady but it seemed she knew how to change the situation to her advantage; she was not at all helpless. Twilight left the caverns, gems in tow, with her friends and a new idea for a friendship report to send to Princess Celestia along with the note on the hew-man.

Back in the caverns the three dogs lamented at their decisions. “Rrrraagh! What were we thinking?! Letting them leave with gems!” The leader in the red vest, known as Rover, said. The pony had been more trouble than she was worth and it was because of her that they were making these bad decisions.

“Err I thought we needed to get rid of the annoying pony and her annoying sounds?” The smallest, Spot, said. A quick smack from Rover silenced the dog.

“We are Diamond Dogs! Not little girls! We need to get gems back from them, need to get back treasure!” The dog said rubbing his claws together.

The largest, Fido, scratched his head, “Uh… how?”

Rover grabbed Fido’s collar so the larger dog was at his height. He cried out, “We send dogs! Two dogs follow them, get gems back. We leave. Not come back to this place but we’re not leaving with nothing!”

Spot nodded his head rapidly, “Oh that is good plan! Good plan! We get gems back and annoying ponies none the wiser!”

Rover called out, “Dogs! Two come here!” Two of their large hounds dropped down in front of their leaders. After a few times repeating the complex orders of ‘go out’ and ‘get gems’ the two ran out into the tunnels for the surface to do their leader’s bidding. They left in the direction of Ponyville, running on all fours.

“Oh boy you shoulda seen me Rorschach! We taught them dogs a lesson they ain’t gonna forget any time soon!” The cowpony exclaimed as she jumped around dramatically before me, her antics illuminated by the glow of my fire. I lean against the side of the wall, watching her retell her tale of her day. It seemed one of her friends had been kidnapped by things called Diamond Dogs. Sounded like gang name, but the way she described it they were actual dogs.

She had been excited to tell me how my advice had helped her fight off two of the dogs. Even braved the late forest to tell me. Her excitement was infectious. Couldn’t help but recall the first time I brought down my criminals. Two burglars who had beaten an old man near death. The excitement of that first fight couldn’t be replicated. Strong sense of satisfaction. Left the two outside police station unconscious and tied to fire hydrant. I was soft back when first starting out.

She went on with her story, “I had two of them dogs on me. Fer the first one I watched ‘is eyes and chest like you told me. He told me right where he was gonna be attacking, was nothin’ to just duck on out of the way. The other one I used my surroundings, got a rock in ‘is way and tripped him up. Knocked ‘em both out with Bucky McGillycuddy and Kicks McGee.” She stretched out her back legs respectively, curious that she personified them.

“Glad I could help,” I said, crossing my arms together, “And your friend?”

Applejack chuckled, “Turned out she didn’t even need our help. She turned the tables on those dogs so that they were the ones scared of her ‘stead the other way around.”

“Clever.” I say with a slight more emotion than I usually spoke with, was admiration. Rarely ever hearing of a victim getting the upper hand over her captors. Have heard of victims joining captors, different matter. This Rarity seemed to be a force to contend if she was that smart.

“Heh you’re tellin’ me, never knew she had it in her bein’ all lady like as she is.” Applejack said with a nod.

“Where did this all happen?” I ask curiously.

“Just ta the north of Ponyville actually, those dogs had a whole web of tunnels. Probably from them diggin’ ‘round for gems to get. Surprised we never noticed them before.”

“Hurm….” I sit back in thought.

Applejack nodded happily and went to sit by the fire. Fireflies were out tonight. For a while we just watch them in silence. Not an awkward silence as earlier in the day, more comfortable. Watching forest, listening to crickets and chirping frogs. I stand back up and head to the fire. Getting the bucket I have filled with water I douse the flames. “Best get you home. I’ll walk you to the Willow tree.”

Applejack tilted her head, “Really? Mighty generous of you.”

“Forest isn't safe at night. Better if I was there.” I reply.

“Any chance I could get you to come to Sweet Apple Acres? Have a barn you could make yourself comfortable in if’n you refuse to sleep in the same house as ponies.” Applejack lightly laughed.

“No. Have other business to take care of.” I say.

“Other business? In the middle of the night?” Applejack asked with a blink.

“Sleep can wait. Seems I have business that needs finishing.”

“….You’re a strange one Rorschach. Well alright then, maybe I’ll convince you ‘nother time.”

“Hmph. Doubt it.”

I led her back to the Willow tree. It was a short walk back to Ponyville from there. She spent the whole time telling me about her family. Applebloom. Big Macintosh. Granny Smith. Sounded nice. A much closer family than I had. Big extended family. Reminded me of my time in foster care. She said I was good listener, never thought of myself as such. Took her word for it. When we reached the Willow tree she tipped her hat to me and left in Ponyville's direction. Found myself watching to make sure she got out of the forest safely.

Once Applejack was out of sight, I left the Willow tree in the direction she had mentioned.

The three Diamond Dogs huddled around the fire, sharing a cooked chicken. The flames danced shadows across the cavern walls. The three leaders growled to one another, making plans to leave their tunnels once the gems were theirs again.

“Hrrr, dogs best not mess up,” Rover growled, drool dripping down from his open mouth as he chomped down on the meat of the partially raw chicken.

“So… where we go… when we get gems?” Fido asked between bites.

“Could go to Stalliongrad… many mountains,” Spot said, the only one who waited to finish chewing before speaking.

Rover waved one of his claws, “Naw. We go to Canterlot? Many Unicorn ponies, find one less annoying. They find gems for us.”

Fido nodded. “Yeah, that better idea. Less work.”

Spot still seemed unsure of himself, “What about Princess? She might find us, be angry for stealing her ponies!”

Rover responded by hitting Spot in the back of the head. Before the smaller dog could complain a massive commotion down the tunnels caught their attention. Howls of anger and then pain bounced off the cavern halls down to them along with the sounds of fighting and conflict. Rover growled, “Dogs fighting again. Stupid hounds….”

Fido got up to break up the fight that the dogs likely got themselves into. He didn’t get the chance as the sound of the conflict died abruptly with something large falling with a thud. The big dog grunted, “Solved itself. Back to….” His voice trailed off.

The sounds of footsteps from beyond the rust encrusted door caught their sensitive ears. Not the sound one of their dogs walking on soft paws would make; it was sharper, a hard surface striking the floor. Rover and Spot got up to look towards the door. All three growled when the door opened their way.

To their surprise, some strange creature with black blots for a face stepped in.

I had my hand on the door as I entered. The dog in the red vest growled at me, “Strange thing think it can walk in here?”

The largest of the three laughed hoarsely, “Maybe it food? Wonder if it taste like chicken….” The smallest meanwhile gulped nervously, already anxious about my presence.

I tilt my head; slowly I closed the door behind me.

I locked the hatch of the door before I slowly walked into the cave towards the three growling dogs. Something about this world and dogs. Were they a personification of dark intent here? Made sense, never met a nice dog in my line of work. I cracked my knuckles in preparation as I got closer to the dogs and the fire.

“Hurm, only three of you…. Shouldn’t take too long.” I say. Happily.

[I'm just an awful person. First I make you all wait so long for a chapter and second I give the Diamond Dogs the worst possible fate. If you ever see AnonyMouse give him your regards for reading this monster chapter in a rather short amount of time! Well I got no message for everypony (the 'ell I just say?) but in light of Valentine's Day I just want to say something to all my readers:

Dear Internet Reader,

It's Valentine's Day. Some of you have that special someone to share it with and I'm happy for you. To others who feel they have no one to share this special day with just remember this.

I love you.

Don't believe me? Well you don't need to. I'm right outside your window right now, I'm watching you sleep, craving you when you eat. Sssshhh don't be afraid, I'm right there for you. Let me whisper it in your ear, "I will not leave you alone this Valentine's Day, because I love you my reader."

Yours Truly,

Your internet Stalker, 'Out of Nothing'

Thanks for reading, now go to sleep so I can watch you breathe. Oh, and here's your Box of Chocolates]

(7) O' Death, Spare me another Year

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(Editor's Note: Apparently the author is really bad at rhyming. I'm gonna go ahead and take full credit for Zecora's dialogue. Problem, Out of Nothing?)

(Response to Editor’s Note!: Lies and slander! Lies and slander I say! So what if it’s true! I deny it anyway! AnonyMouse you cheeky bloke….)

Rorschach in Equestria: Chapter 7

O’ Death, Spare me another Year

I calm my breathing. Slow my motions to provide more delicate precision. I do not disturb the brush that conceals my form. My hand grips the iron tipped spear tightly. In the clearing the hog does not stir. It sifts through the dirt in search of grub. Its coarse black mane gleamed in the sun, muscles rippling under its sweaty hide. The snout drooled mucus and water, sniffing at the ground.

I breathe out slowly, careful not to disturb the branches just inches from my face. Carefully I raise the spear, moving the brush out of the way. The iron edge of the point shined in a beam of light, begging to be coated in the blood of a fresh kill. My body tenses as I pull back. I imagine my trajectory. Saw the spear pass through the pig’s flesh and fat in my mind. One of its ears twitch but it does not know my presence.

I prepare to throw.

“Hi Rorschach!” A voice shouts into my left ear.

My heart skips a beat at the sudden intrusion into my hunter’s stance and in my crouched position I stumbled. The bush rocked back and forth like a bell to signal where I was. The shocked hog looked up and saw the moving bush. It wasted no time in kicking its dirty hooves to the ground and sprinting away from the commotion.

I regain my footing and rush out of the bush to try and give chase. Already too late. The hog was gone. I grumble and turn to the source of my ire. Hopping out of the bush the pink pony appeared, smiling happily back at me.

If only she could see the pure malice that was stamped on my face.

“Oops? Did I startle you? Sorry!” she says in a bubbly attitude, “I just came by to… hey where you goin’?!”

Already I was climbing through the bushes back to my shelter and away from this tormenting pink pony. To my despair she follows behind, still hopping along the forest floor like a rabbit on amphetamines. She barely seemed to touch the ground with each of her eccentric hops. I'm reminded by the impossibility of how she followed me that day in town. I rush ahead through the trees to get away from her, even for just a mere second.

Crashing through the thicket into my rocky cove home I take a moment to enjoy the tranquility of the morning. I breathe in the crisp air, enjoy the sound of birds singing. Then it was all gone as the pink pony jumped next to me.

“Hi again! Got stuck in a bush back there but I’m here now!” she exclaims with her eyes closed. When she opened them again she found me walking to the cave. Violently I fling the spear into the pile of other scavenged spears I had taken from the so called ‘Diamond Dogs.’

She finally seems to take notice of my abrasion as she says, “Awwww are you upset that I startled you back there?”

“Let my meal get away,” I growl, trying my best to make my venom for her obvious.

“Oh my gosh! Did that hog steal your breakfast? Oh maybe we could go find him and ask for it back?” she pleasantly says back, ignorant of or ignoring my biting tone. She smiles that happy grin that she seemed to always have. I thought about correcting her that it was the hog that was my meal but thought better of it. What logic was there in giving this pony more chance to talk.

“You know my name,” I state instead. I already had a feeling I knew why but confirmation would ease my mind.

“Oh Applejack mentioned it to me! I’m her friend you know, she speaks really really highly of you! Well she at least said you were nice! Okay she said you were nice enough,” She says.

“Doubt it,” I reply. More likely she is boasting that I taught her how to fight or that she managed to get my name from me. Entering my cave, I grab a spool of string to use for fishing the stream. I turn away from the pony to unwind the spool around my arm. Will need to replace the river lines for the day, hopefully will catch something that wasn't mud and debris. “Name?” I roughly ask her.

“Silly me, I didn’t introduce myself! I’m Pinkie Pie!”

“Should have guessed,” I say flatly. Reaching to my side I grab the dull knife I had taken from one of the dog leaders and cut the line at the length I wanted. Without waiting for the pony I start heading to the river. Pinkie Pie followed close behind.

“So what do I call you?” she asked, walking close next to me. Too close for my comfort.

“What do you mean?” I ask, confused.

“Well 'Rorschach' is kinda boring. I was thinking I could give you a nickname and you could just call me Pinkie! I was thinking maybe… Shach! No that’s no good… oh I know I’ll call you Rory! It’s perfect!”

I frown hard but don’t say anything. All I could wonder is why she refused to leave me be. We reach the edge of the river where I had made my enclave of needs. Crafted poles leaned just above the water, the current tugging the strings connected to them. Not the most effective way to fish but better than sitting there and waiting for one. So far moderately successful; would need to make plans in the future for a fish trap. Trial and error will have to suffice in learning how to make one. Nearby are my makeshift water filters with fresh water ready to drink. Will need to replace charcoal later. I crouch down at the river bank to look at the poles and their stringed lines.

I ask her, “So what do you want?”

She took a quick intake of breathe and I regret asking her.

She breaks into a horrid song:

“This is your singing telegram, I hope it finds you well!
You're invited to a party ‘cause we think you're really swell!
Everypony loves to party, so come help us celebrate!
The cake will be delicious, the festivities first-rate!
There will be games and dancing, Bob for apples, cut-a-rug!
And when the party's over we'll gather 'round for a group hug!
No need to bring a gift, being there will be enough!
Parties mean having fun with friends, not getting lots of stuff!
It won't be the same without you so we hope that you say yes!”

For a while I just stare at her as she quickly regained the air in her inexhaustible lungs. The babbling brook dominated my sense as I watch her in mix fascination, anguish, and anger.

After a while trying to decrypt my passive face she asks, “So?”

“No.”

Those two letters caused her exuberantly poofy hair to deflate. Her lower lip quivered from rejection as she attempted to stare into my soul with puppy dog eyes. Safe to say I felt very little sway. I look back to the river. “I don’t do parties.” The last thing I attended that could be remotely considered a party was Captain Metropolis’ attempt at forming The Crimebusters as a successor to the Minutemen. Ended with Comedian setting a map on fire and gave Dr.Manhattan the idea to commit adultery. Fun night.

Suddenly Pinkie Pie smiles at me and her mane re-inflates. “Well Applejack said you might say that so she said to give you this note! I didn’t want to resort to it but you leave me with no choice!” From thin air she produces a folded note and offers it up to me.

Despite my better instincts I take the note and unfold it. The note read,

Dear Rorschach,

Pinkie Pie might come off as a bit eccentric but it would mean a lot to her for you to at least show up to her party. To make it a little more secluded I made sure she’d have it in my barn at Sweet Apple Acres and keep the list down to as few ponies as possible.

You do owe me for the apple pie, remember?

Sincerely,

Applejack

I crush the note in my fist. Should have known better than to talk to ponies, let alone accept so called gifts. Gifts aren’t given without expecting something in return. A favor demanded. Leverage against the conscientious.

“Hurm,” I mutter and shoved the note deep into my pocket. The pink pony was still smiling, expecting my answer. Half hoped the glare I gave her would send her away. She was too busy staring at my mask. Seemed to have strange effect on ponies. Hypnotizing to them.

Strange, part of me wanted to relent. Would be easy to reach relatively unseen. Secluded. Few… ponies. Did owe orange pony for food. Still no.

“Maybe,” I found myself saying instead. She seemed to take this answer as her hair remained as it was.

She hopped twice and spoke, “Yay! You’re coming to my party then!” Moved to correct her, thought better of it. Let her think what she wants. She goes on to talk about ‘all the fun’ they were going to have at the party. To my amazement she simply kept talking as I drew my lines in and replaced them. Her lungs still hadn't given out when we walked back to the cave; she was on the topic of making cupcakes now. Never liked cupcakes.

I sat down in my usual spot before the dead fire and prepared to gather the charcoal made in a ring of loose rocks. I stop when I notice she’s kicking at the spool of spears that lay across from me. Before I can warn her away she speaks, “Hey you know now that I look at these they sort of look like the stuff those Diamond Dogs had the other day!”

Here I thought her skills of perception were minimal at best. “Your friend told me about them yesterday.”

“Oh maybe you guys shop at the same spear store?!” She said.

“Not my first guess.” I said. The obvious thought didn’t seem to be occurring to her. She didn’t bother to question my vague answer.

“Oh well, maybe the next time you go to the store you’ll see them! I mean they did try and kidnap my friend Rarity but they weren’t so bad. They were just twenty eight silly dogs who really liked digging for shiny things.”

Not the impression I received when the pony told me her story….. Wait.

“Did you say twenty eight?” I ask, turning to face her.

She nodded excitedly, “Mhm, I counted them at least twice when we were there rescuing Rarity!” She leaned in and whispered to me as if we were being watched, “That way when I tell the story again I could exaggerate even more!”

Twenty eight. Only got rid of twenty six bodies down in mine shaft. Perhaps the pony made a mistake in counting? Gut instinct said she was sure; she seemed to have a confusing but infallible intuition. Did see signs of more dogs. Thought little of it. A detour was in order to investigate.

I stand up and Pinkie Pie moves back to give me space to leave the cave. Her smile never falters, “Well you should go after that hog and see if you can get your breakfast back! I better get going to prepare for the party. Oh! It starts at six o’ clock sharp! See you there Rory!”

In a blur of pink motion she was gone. I could still hear her humming through the forest thicket as it slowly faded into the distance. Hyperactive with attention deficit. Her presence leaves me feeling exhausted.

I shove my hands into my pockets and take several stops forward. I stop when my hand brushes up against the crumpled up note from before. I take it out and look at the ball of creased and discarded paper. For a while I look at this little piece of paper.

I carefully unraveled and smoothed it out again. Gently folding it into a small square, I placed it back and resumed walking with my hands thrust into my pockets.

I crouch down near the open hole’s entrance. I can see nothing but darkness staring back at me. The sound of ambient wind assaults my ears from the entrance to the catacombs below me.

My fingers trace in the hardened clay the outlines of dog’s prints. Fresher than the rest of the trampled ground. I can still see the lines of their calluses in the dried out mud. Two sets, running on all fours fled the caverns. Still crouched I follow the tracks out farther. Soon they followed one behind the other, heading south. Following the tracks farther I see other tracks start. Carts, hooveprints. Dog path followed in the center of these tracks. Heading in direction of Ponyville. Perhaps revenge seekers? Was sure I let none escape last night. Must have left before I arrived. Or sent out. I stand up and follow the tracks closely.

The dog’s path becomes less clear once it reached the forest. Some reason they chose to stray from the clear path, took to the forest. Perhaps to avoid detection? Didn’t give dogs enough credit to be that smart. Would be harder to follow the tracks. Glad already knew their destination. How far they were was another mattered. Could already have been in town, yet Pinkie Pie did not mention anything about dogs in town. So, where were they now?

I further walk into the deep forest, looking for signs of the dogs. Fur caught on tree trunk, prints in shallow puddles. Anything to go on that could tell me whether vermin hid in forest or not. By now I know this forest well. Even in the short time I have been here (six days now, feels like an eternity) I had made sure to memorize my surroundings. Came natural to me, Dan once said it was paranoia. I prefer to think of it as being prepared. It did help when was hunting the timber wolves. Will need to make time to find the rest of them. For now more important prey to hunt.

Time passed before I reached any sign of civilization. A spot I had not been before. A hut. Another inhabitant of the forest. Round and made of thatch and wood. Reminded me of pictures on television asking for help. Liberal assertion that Africa more important to save than America. Signs of dogs led in this direction. I step through the thicket towards the hut. I can hear a voice inside.

“Ugh, dogs think they can just ruin my home? They come back again and I’ll have them running back to their holes!” she said in a strange rhyming voice. I go around the hut to stand near the doorway. Inside what was once clean home looked ransacked. Spilled, shattered bottles upon the floor laying pools of strange colored liquids. Tipped over cauldron in center. I look around the rafters of this primitive hut. Masks of different expressions line walls, looked to be of African origins. Herbs and various dried plants hung from the ceiling and jars of such lined the shelves. In the center of this a zebra was sweeping at the shattered remains of pottery with a straw broom. She hadn’t noticed my shadow in the doorway.

I cough to get her attention.

She glances up and sees me standing there. Her heart seems to skip a beat as she jumps. By now I'm used to the reaction. Didn’t bother mincing words; gruffly I asked, “Dogs pass through here?”

She seems to be taken aback by my ability to speak. She is quick to recover like most other ponies, “Yes they did. In a manner most rude, they ransacked my home to steal all my food.”

Fools didn't think to pack food. “How long ago?” I ask, stepping carefully to avoid shattered glass. Mirror image of break-ins back in my world, broken belongings and melancholy moods from owners upon discovery.

She seems unnerved by my presence, nods absently as she answers, “Not long ago, mid-morning I think. I had gone to the river to fetch water to drink.” She moves back as I kneel down to get a better look at a broken jar. Spilled leaves looked half chewed on, then spat out. Animals, stuck things in their mouths to see if could be eaten. Like blind rats searching through trash for something to eat. "What manner of creature are you, o two-legged thing? No resemblance to ponies, more like a dog it would seem?" She leans in to look at what I'm observing. A broken jar to her, evidence to me.

“Human. Primate. Not dog. Why break into your home? Who are you?” I ask, going through the role that came as natural as breathing.

She blinked, likely not understanding my short phrases but she seems to understand enough to answer with what I needed, “My name is Zecora, a pleasure to meet you. It seems they had smelled my bubbling brew. When I returned from the river I gave a great shout, and chased those troublesome Diamond Dogs out. ”

I look around at the shelves of jars and herbs. Witch doctor perhaps? Not likely a drug runner; I'm familiar with their setups. “Why make your home in the forest? Not a very safe place.”

“It is safe enough for those who know its ways, and filled with wonders bound to amaze.” She replied, no doubt becoming agitated by my questions without giving answers. Understandable, she was upset. Home in disarray. Strange creature walks in after dogs. I will have to explain later, wouldn’t want to be a bad neighbor.

Standing up I nod to her and ask, “Which way were they headed?”

"They spoke of raiding a boutique at their master's will, and left in the direction of Ponyville,” she promptly replied. Hopefully she understood my need for haste now. I turned and walked out, leaving her home and the mess it was in. Made a thought to come back and help her. For now I had business to finish.

Ponyville was busy this time of day, made getting to Carousel Boutique difficult. Broad daylight. Crowds. Little time spent hiding self. Know for certain I was seen on occasion but was best to get there before dogs did. Found their trail again outside of town, they were circling around to the boutique. Tracks were fresh, still smelled of wet dog.

Hopefully Rarity wasn't at home to face the dogs again.

“So where do you want to have lunch, Bon-bon?” the mint colored pony asked her roommate. The pair walked down the road with little direction, letting their stomachs lead the way.

Bon-bon shrugged and replied, “Well, I was thinking there’s that deli down the road. They have this dandelion sandwich that is just superb! Oh, Lyra, you still have that concert this evening, right? What time does it start again?”

Lyra put a hoof to her chin. “Sometime around seven I think. Good thing too because Pinkie Pie came by this morning telling me I had to be at a party she was having today.”

Bon-bon shook her head. “Another one? I recall she said the same thing just a few days ago at the last party she had.”

“Can you blame her? She does put on the best parties! This time, though, she said I’d get to talk about my favorite subject!” Lyra squealed at the thought of getting her sketches and notes out for the evening.

“Oh please Lyra, not this ‘human’ deal again. How many times do I have to tell you there’s no such thing as-“

Suddenly a large form jumped down from the building they were just passing. It landed in a quick roll as it struck the ground. Standing back up again on its two feet it looked down at the pair of ponies, their mouths agape. The black blots that formed its face shifted; to the two ponies it looked like a goatee with no face to go with it. It tipped its hat at them with one of its blunt digits and spoke hoarsely. “Ladies.”

Starting off again it rushed down the alleyway across the street. It deftly stepped up the wall at the alley’s end. Grabbing the ledge, it pulled itself over the wall and disappeared over the other side.

The two ponies watched the spot where the thing had been only moments ago before Lyre broke the silence by giving a high pitch squeal and excitedly jumping up and down next to the horribly dumbstruck Bon-bon.

“I knew it!” Lyra shouted in delight.

The pair of dogs sniffed the air and looked around their surroundings. Huddled against the wall they finally stared intently towards their target, Carousel Boutique. Taking one final check to make sure no ponies were around, they rushed on all fours to the store’s doors.

The first one to arrive at the door adjusted his iron helmet to read the sign with his primitive understanding of reading. Gone to lunch, be back in an hour. The dog gave a short bark to his companion and gestured to the sign. The other dog simply scratched absently at what was gibberish to him but nodded in blind agreement. The first dog growled at the second and shoved his shoulder against the boutique’s door. The dog met no resistance; the door had been left ajar. Tumbling through the open door he landed head over stifle on the boutique’s floor. His fellow dog followed behind, laughing gruffly over his friend’s cartwheel. A prompt kick from the fallen dog silenced his mirth.

The second dog shook his dazed head while the first walked around him and kicked the open door closed again. Barking, he pointed into the boutique and the two began to search. The two sniffed at the boutique’s displayed dresses and gowns but none carried any gems that they could see. The second gestured upstairs. If no gems were to be found downstairs then obviously up the stairs was the only place they could be.

The first dog was the first to enter by smashing his shoulder into the door, nearly breaking it off its hinges. His eyes twinkled with greed when he saw the chests filled with gems on the other side of the room, beside the pony mannequins and rolls of fabrics. The second followed in and started panting at the sight of the gems.

The two stepped in to the workshop, their eyes fixed upon the gems. The dogs stopped abruptly when they sniffed the air. A foreign, musty smell not their own was in the room. They were not alone. They growled and looked around for its source. A sound behind them caught their attention.

The two fools turned to see a monster with black blots for a face look back.

It tilted its head at the two growling dogs and muttered.

"Stupid dogs."

For what seemed like only a few brief moments the boutique became a scene of chaos that it likely had never seen before. The dogs were just that, dogs. Their ideas of fighting were primitive at best. Almost felt bored, but the old thirst for justice kept my focus.

First dog charged with reckless abandonment, clumsy compared to the timber wolves. I don’t even bother to take my hands out of my pockets, I have only to move out of its path and place my foot forward. My foot strikes the dog’s ribs and sends it tumbling against the workshop door. Jutting my hands out of my pockets I grab the dog’s hide and throw him away from the door towards his companion. The two collide in a heap of limbs. My knuckles crack in anticipation.

The bigger dog is the first to recover. Kicking away his still struggling companion he lashes out against me with his claws. Quick to grab its forearm, bringing the beast down onto its chest with its arm as my leverage. I feel satisfaction when the foreleg’s joint rolls out of place from the motion. More satisfaction when I snap its shoulder joint. It howls in agony and withers upon the floor with his useless foreleg.

Haven’t forgotten about the second dog.

He had recovered yet was hesitant to strike at me after seeing what I did to his friend. The bulldog rushed forward despite this and tried to bite down upon my arm. Wasn’t smart to leave the neck exposed. The dog’s maw caught only air. Had barely a second to register what happened before my hands were on his jaw and the back of his head. Bone was fragile to begin with, dog was in poor health. Ended its suffering quickly this way. Resounding snap as I broke its neck.

Barely have enough time to drop the limp dog and move out of the way of the first dog’s attack. Had forgotten these dogs can stand on two legs. Foaming at the mouth it looked as if it had gone mad. Mad dogs deserve to be put down. It leers down upon me, slightly taller than me but that mattered little. I held back its mashing jaws, spittle dripping down upon my sleeved arm. Disgusting. With my arm still out I adjusted myself to the dog’s side, giving me the chance to bring it down. I step down onto the dog’s stifle and hear its ankle break. Heart skips a beat from resulting howl.

The dog knelt down on its good knee. Moving back in front of the dog it only had time to look up at me with its maddened eyes before my knee smashed into his chin. He fell back on its back and was on him.

Hands pressed down on the familiar spots. Trachea behind the throat. I can practically feel the ribbed organ that kept this savage vermin alive. Exhilaration. Dog gasped for vital breath but found none. What I wouldn’t give for this to be Adrian Veidt. For a split moment I truly believed the dog had given me that smug smile I saw in my dreams. Only spurred me to throttle the life out of the filth. Dog stops moving, I don’t relent on my grip. Can feel its pulse begin to fade away. Heart slows down. Lungs give up the fight. Body shuts down. Brain dies from lack of blood flow. Pulse fades to little more than a low throb.

The sound of the door downstairs opening stops me from finishing the job. I look up and listen carefully. “I’m so glad you could join me for lunch Applejack, I positively despise eating by myself,” a voice said. Sounded civilized, like a well-spoken aristocrat. The second voice was all too familiar to me, “my pleasure Rarity, I’m just glad I got the chance to speak to ya about tonight’s party. Now you promise you ain’t gonna freak out if Rorschach comes around?”

I’m already in motion as Rarity replies, “Yes, yes. I suppose he might not be all that well dressed but that can easily be fixed. Now tell me again about this mask of his…”

Can feel the beginnings of panic as I get up off the dog. I look around for a hiding spot. Chance came when noticed one chest of hers was empty and open. Grabbing the dog I drag him over to the chest. He stirs clumsily in his unconscious stupor. Angry he is still alive. No time to deal with it.

“One moment Applejack, did you hear something?”

“Yeah, sounded like it was comin’ from your workshop….”

True panic sets in. Quickly go back and drag the second dog to the chest. Didn’t look like it would be able to fit both, no choice but to make them fit. Roughly I toss the dead dog into the bottom of the chest. Hefted the second unconscious one upon the dead one. Tried to close the chest’s lid but the two bodies refused to let it close. I can hear hooves climbing stairs. Shoving the lid back open I savagely stomped upon the bodies. Unconscious dog beginning to stir further. Had grip upon chest’s edge with paw. Accidently broke digits when tried to close the lid again, left blood stain on edge.

Just managed to close the lid and kick the chest against the wall again when I saw from the corner of my eyes pastel colors. Shoving hands into pockets I whip around to face them. Applejack was the first one up the stairs.

She blinked when she saw me, “Ror-Rorschach? What in tarnation are you doing here?”

I move to keep her line of sight between the chest and her obscured. I luckily did not need to think of an answer to give her. A white pony appeared next to her. Mane curled and extensively fashioned. Her mark was of three diamonds. First thought was posh. Assumed this was Rarity that Applejack spoke of. Worse than I imagined.

She looks over Applejack and sees me standing there. Expected terror or nervousness. She took an extensive gasp, her eyes locked in my direction. Chest was beginning to fidget, something fiddling with lock. “Oh. My. Goodness!” she exclaims. I feel the urge to move again to keep the chest out of sight.

She darts across the room with an amazing speed and I stumble back. Overtaken by the suddenness of movement, seemed Pinkie Pie was not the only one with strange ability to move quickly. She stares directly into my face, watching as the thermochromic ink of my face moved to form a new shape out of my surprised expression.

“Your mask is simply amazing! How did you ever make it! Why the black and white don't mix at all together and the motion is so fluid and beautiful!” she says excitedly.

I breathe a mental sigh of relief that she did not notice the chest. Need to keep her distracted. “My face. Made from special ink, black and white, between two fabrics.” She was close to my face now. Amazement in her eyes watching the ink move as I speak.

“Fascinating…. Oh I wish I could make this. Why I can only begin to imagine the fashions I could create with something like this!” She said.

“Uh sorry to butt in ‘ere,” Applejack said, walking over to join us, “But why are you in Rarity’s boutique? Don’t seem like your type of place.”

Rarity answers for me, “Oh I know the reason why AJ, obviously he wanted to get a change of attire for the party. Why right now he’s dressed like he is preparing for winter. And that coat with those pants? Absolutely clashes!”

I look down at myself, not exactly sure what she means. Worked as a fabric and clothes maker before but never could understand the point of fashion. Job was to fabricate, not design. Wasn’t about to correct eccentric pony despite abhorrence to changing attire, better reason than anything I could give. Chest behind me has gone still again. I clear my throat and speak, “Suppose cleaner clothes would be better.”

Applejack smirked, “Even though the party is in a barn house ‘nyhow?”

I frown and Rarity comes again to my aid. With a wave of her hoof she replies, “Oh Applejack there’s never a time where you can’t be fashionable. Oh this is so exciting! I’ve never made an outfit for someone who was bipedal before! Now where did I leave my measuring tape…. Oh dear I left it down stair somewhere I remember. Applejack would you be a dear and help me look?”

The white aristocratic pony trotted back down the stairs, giving Applejack barely any time to nod, “Sure thing Rarity.” Looking over to me with suspicion, she smiles and points a hoof at me. “Now don’t go doing anything mischievous, mister.”

I have to speak loudly to cover the guttural whine coming from the chest. “Of course. Go help your friend, I'll be right here.” She regards me with some suspicion but trots down the stairs where Rarity was talking to herself.

I turn around and kick open the chest. The dog weakly reaches for me with bloodshot eyes and sickly complexion. I grab a pair of scissors from a nearby table and viciously finish the job. Scissors were kept sharp, clean, pristine. Rarity took care of them well. Made it easy to puncture sinew and muscle. I give a sigh when the deed is done and turn towards the stairs. They were still looking for the measuring tape, good.

Opening the workshop window I look down to see a set of trashcans and refuse. Will work for now. Grabbing the chest I drag it to the window. Taking the first dog I toss the limp body out the window, I do the same for the second so both lay in filth down below. Hopefully hidden from curious passerbys.

Down below a very traumatized dirty stallion hid in his garbage can from the two bodies that had fallen on top of him.

I manage to close the window in time to turn around and see the two reappear. Rarity had found the tape and was levitating just inches in front of her. Will not get used to this concept of magic any time soon. With my hands shoved in my pockets I simply stand there as she goes on and on about potential fashion choices. She breaks into French at certain points to describe what I assume to be foreign fashions. She takes the usual measurements of my legs and shoulder width. Grudgingly obliged her to raise arms out so she can take their measurements to. All the while Applejack sat there with barely contained mirth over my predicament.

My hands fall back down to my side and she turns around to write down the measurements, “Alright now if you’ll just take that dusty old coat off we can see what fits you.” I hesitate but think best to play along. I give a harsh sigh and start to unbutton my coat. Applejack is paying close attention now to me, no doubt fascinated to see what lay under the thick layers of clothes I wore.

I take off my coat and toss it on the table, looked dustier than I remembered it being this morning. Placed my hat upon the coat but wasn’t about to take off my face for them. Raising my arms I pulled my sweater over my head and heard the shocked expressions from them. Had a long career as hero, wasn’t always good at what I did. Trial and error taught me, my scars remind me of my mistakes. Made many mistakes.

Tossing the sweater upon my hat I look at the two of them. Rarity, if possible, seemed to turn paler and Applejack had a sour look upon her face looking upon the discolored and grey scars and fresh red cuts. All they saw were my shoulders, arms, and neck even. Torso was the worst, not going to have that shown to them. I shrug and look to Rarity, “Now what?”

“Hrm… now I think we should just cover you back up with something.” She whispered.

“My thoughts too,” I return.

Next hour was hell to me. Even put a cape on me, was reminded of the death of Dollar Bill, cape stuck in a revolving door and gunned down. Wasn't about to have same thing happen to me. No capes, no bright colors. Tried to put purple jacket on me to match pants, wasn’t going to dress up as a lowly street pimp. Told her so, but somehow she didn’t understand the term. In the end she luckily gave up with on the few garments that fit me but promised to make something according to my style. Made a deal with her that I would show her how to make similar concept of my face into useable fabric for her to use if she did not. She took the offer excitedly, doubt she will keep her end as she continued to talk concepts of jackets and pants and even shoes.

Clock read five by the time we were done. Couldn’t leave though, Rarity demanded she clean the sweater and coat before I left. Refused.

Applejack and I sat down on the stairs to the workshop, simply talking. Anything was better than having to deal with that posh pony again.

“So you really are comin’ to Pinkie’s party?” She asked me.

“Told her 'maybe'. Suppose now you caught me I will be.”

“I don’t plan to force you to go you know, but it’d be real nice if you could. It’d put my friend’s minds at ease that there ain’t no monster in the forest there to eat them all.”

“They think that?” I ask. Was that worry in my voice?

“No no, course they don’t. Just sayin’ you’re still a mystery to them; and me for that matter, though I don’t mind so much.”

“Why’s that?” I ask.

“Cause I know you’re a good soul.” She said with a smile.

I feel a piece of me break. I think back to the note in my jacket pocket, folded with care. I stare down at the wooden steps before me. “Not a good person, not in the sense you think,” I flatly state. As if talking about weather. I was an avenger of justice, a moral beacon in an otherwise moral-less world that festered like an infected cyst. Safeguarded the helpless and protected the innocent, but wasn’t innocent myself. Broke many commandments.

She frowned sadly and opened her mouth to speak. A voice at the top of the stairs speaks before her, “Alright Mr. Rorschach, I’m all done!”

I stand and walk up the stairs, leaving a saddened Applejack sitting there.

She’s still there when I come back down dressed again in my scarf and coat. Took comfort in it, felt too exposed without them. Smelled of soap instead of musk now. Applejack stands up and follows me to the foot of the steps. Upstairs Rarity was talking to herself about new designs. The orange pony doesn’t bring up what I said earlier but instead asks, “So, you ready to come over to Sweet Apple Acres?”

I think for a moment then reply, “I'll go with you to know best way there, but I have something to take care of before the party.”

“More business? For a hermit you sure got a lot to do,” Applejack laughs.

"More work to be done for a hermit that has nothing. Won’t take long. Will need to borrow a shovel though.”

[I just want everyone to know that if you spent this Valentine's alone or without that special somepony. Just know that you're my special valentine. As a gift, I made the chapter's title a hint for events to come and not just to describe the violence in this chapter

Yours truly,

'Out of Nothing']

(8) Party of the Century

View Online

[ So AnonyMouse my editor pointed out a song to me and I thought it was a great comparison- Figured I'd share it!

~Got a black magic woman~

~Got a black magic woman, got me so blind I can't see~

~That she's a black magic woman, she's tryin' to make a devil outta me~

Alright on to the story!]

Edited by AnonyMouse

Chapter 8: Party of the Century

It was little trouble to go back to Ponyville and get the two dogs. Thought I heard something in a trash can stir when I moved the bodies but figured it to be a rat. Most important matter was getting rid of the bodies. They were beginning to stink. On the edge of town I made two shallow graves and unceremoniously tossed the two imbeciles in. Covered them in leaves and debris, looked like small landfills of compost.

The hour was nearly up when I finished but I didn't care to go to the party yet. There would still be time; I'd already made another commitment to adhere to. I went around Ponyville back into the Everfree Forest to see Zecora. It took time to get used to her strange use of rhymes and for her to understand my blunt way of speaking but I admit the encounter was pleasant. I told her where my cave lay as I helped her clean; she said she was happy to finally have a neighbor. Related to her my experiences with the animals in the forest, surprisingly she seemed passive over my tale of killing the wolves. It seemed she too had trouble with timber wolves when first settling down; she was not a helpless pony who knew nothing of danger. She said loud noises, especially pots and pans clanging together, did well to scare them off. Upon mentioning my hunt for the remaining Timber Wolves she regretfully told me she knew not how to help. The regret in her voice, being unable to help, was a pleasant change from playing niceties.

Was good to have another soul to talk to who knew the forest well; felt like I wasn’t alone in the struggle of survival instead of the peaceful utopia I was led to believe from the unicorn’s books. A fleeting thought of two princesses crossed my mind. I had a theory that I thought of asking the zebra but thought better of it. She wouldn’t understand.

Our talk put things into perspective. This zebra was willing to brave the dangers of the forest to not only scratch out an existence but prosper. She had little to no comforts; she was close to nature yet held on to her culture like any other self-respecting sentient creature. She wasn’t soft, not like other ponies. The ponies in town were ignorant to what dangers lay in the cursed forest, safe in well-lit comfortable homes where luxuries become their necessities. Soft little things that demand their everyday luxury of sweets and feathered beds. They didn’t know what it was like to survive, to be forced to the gutter and wallow in the filth to only barely survive, just barely finding the comforts of staying out of the cold rain or finding foods with enough grease and lard to stave hunger away for just a few hours more.

We traded knowledge of local flora, marked down spots where aloe vera grew and new ways for it to be used; she gave me information on foreign plants that would be of use to me. She expressed interest in the timber wolf bones for herbal medicine, promised to bring it for her as I had little better use for them. In exchange for the company she gave me several salves to help stave off infection in my injuries and checked my sprained wrist for any serious damage. I told her she didn’t need to, yet she insisted she wanted to. Assured now by the witch doctor that my wrist was fine I reluctantly left, now with a new sense of respect for my fellow survivor of this mystical forest.

I also found a new sense of loathing for the softness of these ponies.

Pinnacles of innocence, love and affection, and all it cost them was their self-sufficiency. Couldn’t even rely upon the day to turn to night, they had their monarchs to thank for that. Communists would find this perfect for them. Ultimate control of populace and dependence on singular leadership. I could accuse this Princess of the Sun of such a thing, for being a tyrant that wore the mask of benevolence. After all you can’t look into the Sun for long without being forced to turn away. I wouldn't insinuate that, not yet. Another theory was brewing, more worrying than that.

Shovel in hand I walk the forest path, contemplating even showing up for this party. The very word tastes foul in my mouth. I was not in the most pleasant of moods to be tolerating soft little creatures with the naivete of five-year-olds. My mind went to murky places, muttering dark things that I did not think innocence would deserve. No innocence though, only different kinds of guilt. These creatures, these ‘ponies’, may not look like humans, they may be painted in bright colors and pleasant demeanors, but they held emotions that were human. In essence they were human, and that was enough to regard them with distrust. Humans could not be trusted. Broken. Sinful. Perverted. Human emotions brought with them its depravities. Anger, greed, lust, jealousy, prejudice, and pride. If I looked through the cracks I will see that they are no different than the people I protected. The people I protected from themselves. Soft things lost in the belief of their own innocence. My thoughts grow darker the more I contemplate it.

I hadn’t noticed before but a growing pain in my temples had begun to grow into a buzzing. The same mind wrenching sound that had brought me to my knees before.

It screeched into my thoughts. I felt as though my frontal lobe was about to explode. I drop the shovel and my hands go to my temple, attempting to grip away the pain. My eyes are forced shut from the buzzing behind them; my ears were ready to break as it grew in volume. I hear behind the buzzing the whispers again. I hear them clearer now, like recalling memories that the mind tries to forget. My skull seemed ready to crack, my mind splitting in half. I fall forth and hit the ground with a loud thud.

The sound grows in volume and I feel blood drip from ears and my fast beating heart stung like poison.

The whispers grew stronger, angrier. And from beyond that whispering I hear a voice that was not my own. A voice too baritone and sickly sweet, yet the words were all too familiar as they spoke over the torturous crescendo of the sound.

“Dogs…. Get… put… down…”

With those final, punctuate words the sound died down to a dull hum and finally disappeared. I was left on the ground, still clutching my bleeding ears. I couldn’t process any thought, the ache in my head was too much to keep one line of thought for longer than a fleeting second. All I can hear is the sounds of the forest and my terrorized heart.

My eyes felt dilated. The light that split through the tries felt all too bright, their rays gave me no warmth. I steadied my breathing and my mind became my own again, free from the torturous influence. I begin to think this was no natural thing that plagued me.

Those were my words it spoke.

The second half of a single complete phrase that encompassed my creed: Men go to prison, dogs get put down.

Flashes of Diamond Dogs, brutalized and broken, appear again in my mind as if they were right in front of me. The killings at the boutique, stuffed in a chest that was left bloody. Two dogs gnawing on a bone with child’s shoe limply attached to it. I should feel hate, I should feel my comforting rage and bloodlust. Instead I feel a small inkling of dread creep into my thoughts. It was as if someone had turned my own words against me.

I feel a silent anger build in me now at that thought. Nothing should be able to affect a man's mind like that. Nothing except madness. Not even that could ever shake my resolve, my convictions. The urge to maim something builds; the blissful memory of strangling the diamond dog comes to mind.

And it is all slapped away by the echo of a voice, leagues different from the one that tormented me moments ago.

“Cause I know you’re a good soul.”

My anger quells. I’m left with a hollow silence beyond the ringing in my ear. I pick myself up and brush away the leaves that clung to my coat. I grasp the wooden handle of the shovel again, shakily. I tried to be calm but I felt the unease still clinging to my mind like a parasite to vein. My instincts were screaming that something wasn’t right. But what leads did I have to follow? What unholy power could break into someone's mind? Not even Dr. Manhattan could do such a thing. The thought of magic came to mind then; this place had a science too foreign for me to understand yet. Telekinesis was par for the course here; who could tell but that some magic-wielding prick had busted into my psyche?

But for what purpose?

I think back to the purple unicorn, the librarian. Annoying little thing that refused to stop asking its insolent questions. She knew magic and how it worked. Her library was a source of endless information that could point in the direction I needed. And to top it off I knew where she would be. In a barn attending a party that I was expected to be at. I had previously thought to return the shovel and be on my way but it seemed I had another reason to attend.

Sacrifices had to be made to get the answers I needed.

I sighed again and hefted the dirty shovel over my shoulder. I absently touch at the scabbed over blood that caked the sides of my head, chipping it away into a fine red dust that smelled heavily of copper. At least being partially deaf would make the party quieter. Intuition told me the pink pony’s definition of a ‘few guests’ was vastly different from my own. I could only expect the worst.

Walking the sun tainted path up to Sweet Apple acres I felt a small comfort in baking in the scathing warm rays in the air. New York was cold; always it felt cold to me. A nice change to feel genuine warmth, even if it felt slightly uncomfortable. On either side of me beyond simple wooden fences were rows upon rows of Apple trees. Each one seemed almost heat shaped in their appearance and were the same height. The orange pony must have already harvested the apples for the trees were mostly barren of their fruit besides the bruised apple that lay on the ground around the trees.

I'll admit mood was beginning to brighten at thought of apple pie.

Didn’t last long when I found my mind return to the subject of my mind being invaded, it agonized me that I had no possible leads to follow without consulting Twilight Sparkle (I inwardly cringe again at the awful name). Wouldn’t be able to use normal method of getting information out of her, honestly would rather not resort to that. Another thought crosses my mind. How old were these ponies? They acted naïve, young. Personality wise I saw little difference between them and the three fillies that I seem to keep running into. With the exception of Applejack, she at least had a maturity that was better than barely tolerable.

I finally reach the farm’s gated entrance and begin my walk up to the homely farmhouse in the distance and the barn next to it. It was like looking at a child’s picture book again. Even sounds were that of a classic red barn house. I could hear chickens and cows in the background. I wonder if this was what it was like on a farm in the countryside in America. I find it hard to believe anything so idealistic could exist in my world though. Also doubted cows were led to slaughter, ponies didn’t seem the type to enjoy steak.

Made a mental note to catch that hog another day. I might not be able to have steak but ham was just as good.

Stepping up the path I found myself at the gated fence that led into the farm’s yard. Even now I can hear the sounds of music and excited talking from the barn house. Perhaps if I’m lucky they hadn’t even noticed my absence. Never took much stock in luck but one had the right to hope and be disappointed.

I lift open the lock on the gate and step in. The gate drags against the ground on a well-travelled curve as I pass by it. I look up to push it back into place and I see something red out of the corner of my eye. Coming across the dirt yard of was another pony, much larger than the others I’ve seen, with a red coat and messy sand-colored mane. He wore a yoke about his neck and on its back rested loose reigns, likely for plowing the fields. The very image of a work horse. Had to admit it was much more imposing than any other pony I'd met. That still did not go very far to impress me but it was a step up.

He stops in front of me as I close and lock the gate. With the shovel over my shoulder I turn to look. It chewed on a stock of wheat and regarded me with about the same mild interest. It then spoke slowly, deliberately, and I realize it was male, “You Rorschach?”

He spoke the word with some difficulty, the word foreign to his usual vocabulary I assume. I nod.

“You?” I ask bluntly.

“Big Macintosh, Big Mac fur short. Applejack’s elder brother.” He replied with even more bluntness.

I had the sudden realization I should have known who this was from my absent listening to Applejack’s stories about her family. One of her favorite subjects seemed to be competitions she had with her big brother, a supposedly strong and hard-working stallion. It seemed he knew who I was as well. That explained why he took my appearance like he was regarding a fascinating insect that had landed before his eyes.

I was beginning to like this Big Macintosh.

I glance over at the open barn door and state, “Not at the party.”

“Nnope. Ain't mah thing.” He replied. Now was sure I enjoyed this stallion’s presence.

I nod in recognition. “This about how much you normally talk?”

“Eeeyup.”

“We’ll get along fine then.”

He nods and for a moment we regard each other through stares before he gestures with a flick of his head towards the barn, “Pinkie Pie’s been telling me point ya to the barn when you arrived. She seemed mighty upset you weren’t here yet.”

“Not surprised. Had garbage to get rid of before coming.” I tell him. He joins me as I walked slowly, hesitantly even, towards the barn.

“I’ll put away that shovel for ya. More work to be done anyhow.” He said.

I nod and hand him the shovel. He takes it in his hoof (somehow…) and slides it into the yoke so that it stayed in place; he didn’t seem to mind the mud (very glad shovel did not touch the bodies). We stop in front of the slightly open barn door and I can hear the laughter and talking inside. For a while we find ourselves just listening in like strangers outside the window of a party, neither wishing to join or walk away from. I can’t tell how many might be in there beyond the music and echoes of conversations. I grumble and look to Big Mac for support. He smirks at my misfortune and doesn’t say anything. He gives me another nod in farewell and turns away from me, walking around the barn side to its other side. I give him my own departing nod.

I give one final sigh and shove my hands into my pockets, with my foot I move the barn door open.

The music still plays but the conversations go quiet as I cast my shadow into the barn. I mentally groaned as my eyes quickly scanned and counted the number of occupants. Twenty. Recognize the six ponies, the three foals that I keep encountering, plus another mint colored pony who I had run into before (her grin seemed unnaturally large). Was expecting worse but twenty still felt unbearable. They stare at me with their unnaturally large and bright eyes, some in wonder, others in recognition, and finally those who still had apprehension in their eyes.

The stares were broken quickly by the Pink pony jumping up over the crowd and exclaiming, “Yay you’re finally here!” She somehow navigated the crowd in three leaps and stood in front of me. She kept jumping up to be at eye level with me as she spoke, “I almost thought you weren’t going to be coming to my party!”

“So did I,” I say but she laughs as if I was making a joke.

“Well come on in and join the party! There’s a bunch of ponies I want you to meet!” Before I can react she’s got my arm and is dragging me along with a surprising strength. Letting go of my arm, she gestures to the crowd and calls out names. The ones I already knew: Twilight Sparkle, Applejack, Fluttershy, Rarity. The three fillies, or as they called themselves, the ‘Cutie Mark Crusaders’ (I have no idea what to say to this besides nodding my head). Quickly she lists off the others, and I can’t keep up with them all. I don’t care much to know anyway.

She places a hoof to her chin and looks quizzically around, muttering something about someone missing. She walks around the crowds who have gone back to their conversations and I find myself following next to her. The only other pony to keep focused on me was the strange mint one that walked close behind me, too close for comfort. I try my best to ignore her as we walk by a tall stack of hay blocks when Pinkie speaks to herself, “Now where in the barn is Rainbow Dash?”

As if on cue a war cry from above is heard. The three of us look up to see a cyan body plunge down towards us, a trail of rainbow behind it. Most specifically it was charging at me in like a dive bomber. The mint unicorn and Pinkie Pie duck out of the way leaving me standing there to face the cyan bullet.

I quickly grab out one of the blocks of hay and hold it in front of me as a shield. “Woah!” The cyan bomber cries out and tries to stop her descent. She surprisingly slows down quickly in a short amount of time but not fast enough to stop herself from colliding with the hay block with still an impressive speed.

I find myself face to face with my attacker when her head burst through the hay with the rest of her body minus her back legs stuck in the hay. I tilt my head in surprise; never been attacked like that before. Like the rest of the ponies this one had a bright pastel coat but her mane and tail were an unruly explosion of colors.

So this was Rainbow Dash.

She pouted at me and scowls, “Dang it, I was hoping to catch you by surprise, see how tough everypony thinks you are!”

“I'm not the one stuck in a hay bale,” I scowl back and place the block of hay back on the pile, albeit with her upside down now.

“Hey, get me out of this thing!” She cried out, trying to struggle to get free of her makeshift prison. Behind me I hear ponies laughing, Pinkie Pie especially was rolling on the ground in laughter. Already was getting tired of this party. Stepping upon a block of hay I sat down on the second row of the pyramid of hay blocks. It was comfortable and had a good view of the party, just in case any other ponies decided they wanted to attack me. Even if the attack had the seriousness of being attacked with feathers.

“Don’t just stand there! One of you help me get out!” Rainbow Dash cried, still frantically trying to work her way free of the stuff.

Applejack walked over, wiping a tear of laughter from her eye with the side of her hoof, “Well’n it serves you right for tryin’ to get the jump on our guest here. I’ll get you out just as long as you don’t go trying that stunt again, Rainbow.”

“Fine, just get me out, AJ. This stuff is really itchy,” Rainbow sighed in defeat with a roll of her eyes. Still laughing, Applejack went around the hay block and started pulling on the cyan pony’s back legs. The hay collapsed into itself as the pony was freed and I see now she is a Pegasus. That explained the speed she came at me with. The first thing she does is glare at me like a child in a fit before walking off.

Applejack shakes her head and approaches me, smiling, “Sorry about that, Rainbow Dash wasn’t looking to hurt you or anything. She’s just competitive is all.”

She should be glad I didn’t regard her as a threat. Being trapped in hay would be the least of her concerns. I grunt and look around. Applejack notices my unease and continues, “Trust me, this is a small party for Pinkie Pie. I am glad you’re here though, so ta’ thank ya Granny Smith made you some more apple pie… oh, wait one second.”

She rushes off to a concession stand of sweets and returns with a pie in a few seconds. She places it in my side and smiles. This pony was beginning to understand how to get on my good side. “Thank you,” I say and return to watching the party and ignoring the music.

“Aw, don’t mention it. I’m gonna go talk to Rainbow real quick. You’ll probably sit there and mope but knowin’ these ponies you’ll probably be getting most of them to see you. Just… try to be nice, okay?”

“Mhm.” I say. Thought about mentioning the need to speak to Twilight Sparkle, but knowing her, after just one encounter I think she is more likely to come to me before the party was over. For now I would just have to tolerate these other ponies.

The party went on and I thought my presence would be forgotten but I was left with constant reminders that it wasn’t so. Instead I found myself in a staring contest with the three fillies, the Cutie Mark Crusaders. At first they had bombarded me with a litany of prepared questions about everything about me. My stare was the only answer I gave them and despite this they didn’t deter away from. The three of them just sat in front of me on the hay at my feet, staring at the black blots on my face.

“Now it’s an eagle!” the white one, Sweetie Belle, would exclaim.

“No, no it’s an Apple tree, obviously!” Applebloom would reply.

“Looks more like a volcano to me!” Scootaloo would say.

A short period of arguing would ensue until my face shifted again and formed a new shape and the process would start again with different ideas of what the blots formed.

To add upon their annoyance the mint pony has done nothing but stare at me this entire time. I thought the Pink pony was disturbing but this one brought a whole new level of eeriness to me. She seemed especially interested in looking at my hands and following them every time they moved. She didn’t ask me any questions; she simply sat there next to me smiling widely with a twinkle in her eye, watching my every move. It made me shift uneasily in my seat on the hay.

After a while Pinkie Pie and Rarity wandered over. Pinkie Pie joined in with the three fillies to discuss what they saw in my face, she came up with the weirdest, most obscure exclamations that made even me wonder how she saw what she did. Rarity was more inclined to ask about my face again.

“So tell me dear, how did you ever come up with that intricate design? I mean no offense but your sense of fashion is... well, not very good," she says. I’m inclined to agree.

Turning away from the four ponies in front of me (glad to no longer be looking at them) I look at her and shook my head. I take of my hat and set it at my side, the mint pony watching my fingers carefully. I then answer her, “Not my design. Merely made it. Original was dress idea but didn’t work out. Took it and made my own with modifications.”

“My word, you must be quite skilled to make something like this!” she said in awe.

Never thought that I was that good as clothes maker, was not the best but didn't do a bad job either. Manageable describes it best. I shrug. “Simple work when you know what you’re doing.”

“So where are you from anyway?” An accusing voice asks from above me. I and Rarity turn to look up on the next stack of hay where the voice came from. Rainbow Dash was looking at me with suspicion, hadn’t even known she was there until she spoke.

I figure to give her my vague answer but think differently. The foals asked me the same questions moments ago so perhaps it would good to give a better answer, “Far off city, in a far off country.”

“Really? How far away?” Rarity asks.

Far enough that requires dying to get there. “Far enough where it wouldn’t be on any map,” I say. By now the party was beginning to die down with most of the confections gone. Applejack and Twilight had been saying good bye to the last guest, a stallion with an hourglass on his flank. I noticed because he had taken several tentative glances at me during the party. Now only the nine ponies remained and upon hearing my voice Twilight and Applejack walked over to listen in to what I was saying. Even the weak Fluttershy sat on the hay nearby listening.

“Oh dear,” Rarity said, “That must be very far away then. But why come here to Ponyville?”

“Didn’t have a choice,” I say.

At this Twilight speaks, “You mentioned that in the forest when I first saw you. You said you couldn’t go back either.”

The ponies look to her and then to me, I nod in confirmation and she asks the question I know that has been on her mind, “Why?”

“I refused to compromise,” I state, causing the ponies to look at me curiously, “Was asked to keep a malicious lie to ensure peace. I refused, so they sent me far enough away that I could never go back.”

“And that far enough away was here…” Twilight says.

Applejack spoke her mind next, “Wait. Keep the peace? There some kind of trouble where you come from?”

To their surprise and even my own I smirk hoarsely. Why not humor them, teach them the folly of man? “You are ruled by two princesses, pair of powerful magic users who can shape the environment, right?”

“Right, Princess Celestia raises the sun and Princess Luna brings out the night and the moon,” Twilight responds.

“And they rule together now.” I state.

Again Twilight Sparkle nods, “just recently they began ruling together again, and things have been peaceful ever since.”

“Somewhat similar situation where I’m from; entirely different outcome.”

By now they were even more curious at what I was saying, I continue, “My world is split into halves by two great powers. One was just and right, allowed freedom and justice. The other was tyrannical and amoral, a blight that was obsessed with industry and power. One time they were allies to bring down a great evil. Once the evil was put down there was no one else left to fight; so they turned on one another.”

I had a rapt audience now, they sat before me attentively listening, “Humans aggressive, but scared things. When we feel threatened we turn to others to join us and when they do not we regard them as another threat to fight. This jealousy, this hatred these two powers had for each other grew so strong it engulfed the entire world. But they were too afraid of their own power to come to blows."

“What’dya mean by that?” Applejack asked.

I wave a hand, "Fists don't do enough damage, so we started making weapons. It started simple with sticks and stones but as time went on our entire existence became an arms race against ourselves. Our weapons grew more deadly. Humans don’t have magic; relied on science and ingenuity to progress. Eventually we created a weapon that could destroy the entire world and everything on it. We grew fearful of our own power."

Twilight was taking this the worst, she shivered in fear and said quietly, “Why would anypony build a weapon that can destroy their own world?”

“Thousands.”

“What?” the lavender unicorn asked.

“There wasn't just one. When we figured out we could turn the world to a cinder we built more of them. Thousands of them, poised to obliterate everything at a moment’s notice.” I say flatly.

Every one of the ponies went quiet, even Pinkie Pie seemed to get serious at these implications.

“So who had these weapons?” The question to my surprise came from Applebloom.

“Both sides,” I say, “both scared the other would use their own. When I left, world was on the brink of annihilation.”

“But something happened to make peace between the two… right?” Rainbow Dash tentatively asked.

“Based on a lie. Based on fear,” I snarled. They go quiet again. At least they understood now. Perhaps they would now stop asking questions. Looking at their eyes though I might have said too much, though I do not understand why, it was not their world that was ending. They had no reason to be upset for a thing that happened so far away in a place they’ve never heard of. Peculiar things.

“So what did you do in all of this, I mean what is there left to do when you have… well that happening around you?” the orange Pegasus, Scootaloo asked.

I shrug, “Helped innocent people, dispensed justice.”

“Wait… you mean like a Super Hero or something?” Rainbow Dash asked.

“Guess you could say that. They called us vigilantes.”

“No way! You were a super hero? What’s your super power?” Pinkie asked excitedly.

“Don’t have one. Was just one of the few willing to stand up for justice.” I tell her.

Twilight seemed to catch on to changing the subject and pressed on, “So you must have some stories to tell then? I mean being a Vigilante? Saving people and fighting villains?”

“For twenty-one years. fought bringing down criminals.”

“Now those are stories I’d like to hear!” Rainbow Dash said excitedly.

Couldn’t help but smirk. This was a topic I was happier to give. A time that I was proud of and good times I had dispensing justice. And so into the night I told them stories. I left out my beginnings but told them the highlights of my career. I told them about first fighting criminals and about bringing down the Underboss. I told them then about Nite Owl and our partnership. The fight we brought to bring justice to the streets of our city and our adventures.

I left out our unhappy ending, I stopped when the moon began to rise into the sky.

The three foals had fallen asleep on the hay at my feet, Applejack took them to the farmhouse to tuck them in. The others left with their farewells and I tried to leave as quickly as I could. I found myself though walking with Fluttershy and Twilight. Twilight did not surprise me but the yellow Pegasus was a surprise. I had not seen her reactions during my recounting but knew she had been listening intently. The shy, weak thing was unreadable by being too timid. Reminded me too much of her confrontation days before and the link to my past.

“You don’t like your own kind do you?”

Both I and Twilight turn towards the timid Pegasus. This was the first time she said anything to me and when I looked to her she shied away and tried to hide behind her mane. I look ahead. Her shyness irked me. “No, I don’t.”

“What made you lose hope? The way you put it you make it sound like humans are hopeless.” Twilight says, finally saying humans correctly.

“Never had any hope in people. Immoral. Selfish. Don't concern yourself on their behalf. They had their chance, and blew it.”

“You’re talking in the past tense, but humans aren’t gone are they?” She asks.

For a while I don’t answer. We reach the gate out of Sweet Apple Acres and I can see both of them are still waiting for me to say something. They stop at the gate and watch as I walk away into the night.

I call back, “Not gone. Just beyond redemption.”

Twilight’s mind was abuzz with thoughts of the night. It was longest she ever heard the human speak and though she didn’t get a chance to answer any of her questions the stories he told were information enough. She felt disheartened that he came from such a world in pain but strangely wasn’t bothered by it. It was foreign for her and more importantly it was something that she didn’t understand.

She had only taken a mere glance at a foreign culture and she wasn’t sure what to think of it.

She did draw parallels though. Was his reality so different to what could have been? What could of happen if Princess Celestia and Princess Luna fought? It had happened before with Nightmare Moon, but without the elements of harmony at Celestia’s side what could have happened? She shook those thoughts from her mind. She was going into a dangerous realm of speculation where nothing had any clear answers.

She said her goodbyes to Fluttershy and with a tired mind walked back to her home. She opened the door expecting a sleeping Spike. Instead she found one that was desperately trying to stay awake. “Twilight, where have you been? I’ve been waiting probably all night for you!” He said, stifling a yawn.

“Sorry Spike, I lost track of the time I guess.” She tiredly said.

“Well you got this urgent letter from Princess-“

Twilight had been walking by the dragon towards the stairs when she jumped at the mention of letter. She turned around. Wide awake she looked at the rolled parchment in the dragon’s hand, “The Princess? Why didn’t you tell me she had written to me!”

Before the dragon could answer the parchment was ripped from his hand by the unicorn’s magic. Breaking the seal the unicorn hurriedly read the letter:

Dear Twilight,

Do not speak to this human anymore. Stay away from him and don’t listen to anything he says. I will be there in the morning to explain everything. Keep yourself and your friends away from this dangerous creature. Please stay safe, I will be there soon.

Sincerely,

Princess Celestia

[I.....am an awful scatterbrain..... although I can think of a number of reasons why!

Whiskey: Obviously not me! I help!

Shut up you, you give me horrible horrible ideas.

-That is all, Out of Nothing]

[Bonus Chapter] Off on a Tangent

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Bonus Chapter- Off on a Tangent

[So my roommate will leave me alone- strong cursing to follow, and I'm so sorry if you actually read this]

The author sits in a rickety old chair, its wheels long missing it digs into the carpet rug. It squeaks with every move the author makes, shifting his form for a better position but never once letting his eyes leave the blank screen. He sat there for what felt like hours, pride keeping him rooted to the spot as he had told himself that no matter what he would get at least a thousand words done for the next chapter of his story.

It certainly didn’t help that his roommate had brought home a bottle of butterscotch schnapps. In most cases the author with a resistance to drunkenness could handle such a thing in stride before going off to fulfill all his writing obligations.

Schnapps though, schnapps made everything weird. It turned the little picture on the label into Twilight Sparkle's cutie mark.

His mind felt fuzzy and the thoughts became running images that did not stay long enough to reach his hand to type. Only a few transitory sentences lay upon his screen to fill the white void of the empty word document.

He gave a sigh, an Irish sigh. A sigh that barely could contain some deep seated depression and venom for the world that schnapps brought out. It also made him racist, god damn Krauts.It also made him quite positive Pinkie Pie was somewhere in his room plotting his downfall.

From the doorway of his tiny room he heard the doorknob twist open. A resounding kick was given to the door’s frame that caused it to violently swing inward and hit the dented wall next to it. “Beeeeeeeearrrrrrr!” the whiny voice called out as it entered the room on stocky weak legs, “are you jerking off in here?”

“No!” The author screams, he turns in his seat causing it to squeak, “I have important work to be done Arthur so leave me alone you bastard! And stop kicking my god damn door!”

The scrawny young man drunkenly laughs at the author’s slurred screams, “Oh my god man I think there’s a butterfly in my head. Oh hey! You do that thing with the writing yeah? Well could you like do a piece of me like doing it with Daring Do?”

“Why would I degrade myself by putting you anywhere in my writing you stupid little shithead?!” The angry author rants in his drunken stupor, “Who the hell you think you are giving me orders and trying to get me to write some god-damn fantasy for you involving a character from the world’s most sweetest cartoon in the entire god-damn world, you god-damn stupid ass-frikken-douche.”

The whiny man grabs his heart, “Because I am your biggest fan, and I love you.”

“Oh my god that means absolutely nothing to me!” The author cries out with his hands outstretched to the heavens.

“No Bear you’re not listening to me man. I. Frikken. Love. You. Not in a bromance way either, in a very sexual way… the very very sexual way.” He juts a bony finger at the author as he spoke with the seriousness of death itself.

“No. No sexual favors you douche, I’m tired you never paying me back. Besides you have a girlfriend or something.” The author says and swivels back to the white screen before him.

“She means nothing to me!” The whiny man says as he tosses his wallet into the air. It collides with the floor and is struck open to show a picture of the scrawny man with a gargantuan woman of unhealthy proportions,” She doesn’t have what we have!” he goes on in his annoying, high pitched voice that never seemed to go through puberty, “Which is this strong built up homosexual tension that you put in all your writing, so actually you're the one at fault here.”

“I do not have strong built up homosexual tension in my writing!” the author scoffs and laughs nervously.

“Oh yeah? Right this second read those sentences on your damn screen and tell me how many times the word ‘throbbing’ and ‘excitable’ come up.” The whiny man says with eyes narrowed like an Asian man’s eyes.

The author does as he is told, “I have both words in their twice, so what?”

“No, Bear, no. If you ever use the words ‘throbbing’ and ‘excitable’ more than once in a god damn paragraph you are putting way too much sexual tension in your story.”

“That is bull, there is absolutely nothing sexual at all about it. I never write anything… sexual” the author says with his hands performing a clumsy sweeping motion through the air.

“Well I saw you writing that thing with Applebloom-“

“No-no-no! That was a joke damn it! I wasn’t gonna do anything with it!” The author says quickly, his eyes dart over to under his messy bed where he was sure a pink blur had been moments ago.

“Uh-huh, pervert.” The scrawny man says and suddenly turns into a Pegasus for no reason what so ever.

‘Just…. Shut up and leave me alone.” The author said with barely contained venom just before everything got cartoony.

“Sure thing… oh wait Jane brought some whiskey over.”

“Oh sweet, crack that thing open!” And so they did, and they made a huge mess on the floor because you aren't suppose to literally crack open a bottle.

Arty and Daring Do were walking through the steamy jungle. The air throbbed with the sense of adventure and danger. Excitable macaws flew through the skies like bright colored kites that swept down to the ground again at the carelessness of their owners.

Arty turns to Daring and asks, “So… you want to like go do it?”

Daring responds by kicking him into a suddenly appearing and well placed river where Arty is promptly eaten by a crocodile in a way that would make Animal Planet proud.

THE END

Children, don’t drink schnapps.

(9) Betrayal

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Edited by AnonyMouse

Chapter 9: Betrayal

Once, long ago, there was a time when man did not have the luxuries that kept him comfortably out of reach from the hand of natural selection and adaptation. This so called Stone Age is easily forgotten by the common man, and some don't even believe such a time existed. Man's origins remain shrouded in the mists of time, but archaeological evidence tells a story. Against the trials of nature and the hardships that the environment presented us, man not only survived with its primitive lifestyle but managed to prosper in it as well. The first ever dramatic increase in our survivability came from our understanding of how things grow, and how a little seed could be cultivated into a field of food. Agriculture was soon born, and alongside the traditional practices of hunting man’s chances of survival increased exponentially.

Man was born with the will to survive and conquer; it is in our blood that we not only make do with the card we are given, we make the very best of it.

Despite this proud ancient heritage, my most recent city-dwelling ancestors seemed to have forgotten their humble roots for the sake of survival in a hostile society that bartered with slips of paper for goods. In just the last few centuries, society has lost almost all of its wilderness survival knowledge, our instincts dulled by comfort and convenience. Sometimes I could swear this forest goes out of its way to cause me harm.

I returned late last night to find the last supplies of berries and leeks to be ransacked not by dreaded timber wolves or some other beast but by rabbits of all things. I chased after them, hoping to ring their necks and replace them with my stolen foods. What I figured to be an easy task for one of nature’s most hardened and intuitive of creatures turned out to be impossible. My hands clasped only air and I was reduced to looking like a fool chasing after laughing bunnies. Why couldn’t something more vicious come to kill me and not these mocking white furred vermin that seemed to slip through my grasp like water? I chased them off as they carried what they could of my supplies with them and I was left with very little of my already scarce food supply. Few hours were left in the night and for most of them I found sleep eluding me with my mind running wild with thoughts of rabbit stew.

At first light I awoke with an aching lower back, a subtle reminder of my advancing age. I was forty-five, and despite my peak physical condition the thought of being such an age was enough to agitate my joints and the old wounds that never healed quite properly. Small annoyance, wouldn’t hinder me for today’s tasks. I set about making a better hiding spot for my food supplies. Digging out dirt from underneath one of the larger rocks, I made a hovel to place the food sacks in, using a small layer of smaller rocks and some dirt to secure it. Only concern would be insects or digging vermin getting to it. For now the knap sacks my supplies rested in would have to do for protection against the elements.

Next I tried my hand at constructing a makeshift net out of vines. Some time ago I had discovered the strength the forest’s intertwining series of vines that covered the trees and strung them together like the canopy of a rainforest. They were thick and strong, not very elastic and some covered in a sap or oil that made them difficult to handle. Had no other material to work with though and so sat there trying to knot a diamond patterned net from the vines, mostly without success. Let’s see if those rabbits come again, they’ll be in for a surprise when I break their necks.

It was midday by the time I got any progress done. My net, if it could be called as such, looked more like a tangle of moss green ropes rather than having any discernible purpose. How anyone could grasp the concept of making a net seemed beyond me; skills in textile work were of no help to me here.

I scowl and toss away the tangled mass so I could deal with it later. More likely I’ll toss it into the river out of spite. Giving a rough sigh I sit on the dirt ground watching the clouds in the sky pass by. The heat of the day was strong but the contrasting coolness to the cave made it bearable. In the distance I hear the deep growl of a lion or some other catlike creature. Didn’t fill me with dread as it did when I first heard it. Perhaps one day I will have the chance encounter with the creature, but for now it was part of the background. Just another sound to be heard in the forest, as natural as hearing the birds give their calls.

The peace was all disturbed with the faint sound of movement in the brush just before my grove. I made no move to stand up; animals would not be so blatant in their approach, and by now the Timber Wolves knew that I was not a creature to be tampered with. Most likely it was a pony, at the rate of visitors I seem to get in what I hoped was a remote location I would have to consider making a path from the willow to my home. Was getting tired of being startled when I heard the sounds of the thicket being disturbed.

Just as I thought, from the shadow of the trees I can already make out the pastel lavender colors of the one called Twilight Sparkle. Did not expect to see her again so soon, especially not here in my neck of the woods. She broke through the underbrush with some mild effort and stood for a moment on the grove’s edge. She was sweating and panting as if she had been running to get here. My senses tell me something might have been wrong but I wait for her to catch her breath to confirm my suspicions.

She finally catches her breath and looks around the grove in search of something. She sees me swiftly and trots over rather hurriedly to where I sat against the rocky outcropping of the cave. “Rorschach, I need you to come back with me to Ponyville.” She states with strong authority. She had some nerve to come and order me around in my home I thought but did not voice it.

“Why,” I harshly ask her and I can see her resolve dwindle at my tone. I felt a small hint of guilt. “I’m sorry,” I find myself saying, “What's the problem?”

To my surprise she takes no comfort in my apology, instead she seems even more put at unease as she gnaws on her lower lip. “Well… it’s hard to explain, but I just really need you to come back to the library with me. It’s really important.”

Perhaps she knows I took her book? Still doesn’t entirely explain why she wanted me to go back with her. Her reluctance to explain rings warning bells in my head but I choose to ignore them. I highly doubted this pony could scheme, let alone effectively lie. “Wouldn't be wise to go into town, we discussed this before.” I calmly explain to her.

“I know, but something’s changed that I really need to talk to you about back at home. It concerns you staying here in the forest.” She replies hesitantly, as if she were trying her best to find the right words to a half-truth. It was obvious she was keeping something from me but I still didn’t understand the reason for her to do so, so for now I’d just have to humor her.

I give an annoyed sigh and pick up the discarded tangle of vines next to me so that I had something to work with while this pony tried to explain herself to me. So far she was doing very poorly. “Not about to go live in town,” I say as best I can without sounding blunt or harsh.

“No that isn’t what… What I mean is… I’d really appreciate it…. Something…,” she stutters out of confliction until finally she blurts out, “Applejack and my friends might be in danger!”

The forest itself seems to take in a startled breath as her voice echoes across the rocky side of the mountain and around the grove. The birds seemed to dull their song as I turn to look at her in the eye. She shrinks back at my gaze but doesn’t say anything, instead biting at her lower lip again. The alarms in my head scream that she is lying to my face but I can’t help but feel my protective instincts take over. If there was the remotest chance the orange pony was in danger again… lie or not I will take the risk. I stand up and step into the cave, Twilight begins to protest but I hold out my hand to stop her from speaking any further. Going to my bags I open one up and take out the book I had taken from the library days ago. I shove it into the pocket of my trench coat and turn around to face her. I give her a nod and say, “Lead the way.”

We go to the Willow tree that marked the direction of Ponyville. All the while I watch her as we walk in our awkward silence. Human or pony, I could recognize the walk of a guilty conscience and the lavender unicorn had the gait of someone with a boulder of guilt upon their shoulders. I’m not sure what I would do if I found out she was lying to me about her friends being in danger. A strong chastising likely, perhaps tell her the story of boy who cried wolf. My prime concern still remained on what purpose she had for speaking a lie. The obvious thoughts were usually the same, dark and foreboding, yet I could never match up such things to the bright colored intellectual Twilight Sparkle. I still barely knew her, but from what I could tell none of these ponies held the malice or selfishness that I was accustomed to. In a way it unnerved me as I could no longer predict what move they would make. A lying man you could trust to never tell the truth, but you could never tell when the honest man chose to lie. In this case it was ponies, but the concept was still the same.

We reached the Willow without a word and turned towards Ponyville when I had a sudden realization. Perhaps she or others had found the bodies that I had buried? It might be she gained the wrong conclusion from it, that an unknown danger stalked Ponyville. She was smart though, would she not come to the conclusion that I, a foreign and potentially dangerous entity would likely be to blame for the killings? It seemed the logical result. My sudden appearance, the first killings in who knows how long?

The idea still felt out of place to me though, she didn’t seem scared of me or shy away out of terror in my presence as it should when confronted with a murderer. I saw only guilt in her state and unease of her mind. Even if she still thought it was another stalker amidst them that was to be blamed for the killing it would be fear that drove her, not guilt. What reason could there be for her to feel remorseful? She told me a lie but she didn’t seem the type to tell a falsehood unless it was necessary.

All I could think now was: this better not be another party.

Her party might have been more enjoyable than I had first thought but still I would rather not have to go through the ordeal yet again the very next day. This theory seemed wrong too, since the pink pony made the trip herself to give me her awful musical invitation for her last party and I doubted Twilight would be sent in her place to get me to come. Unless it was a surprise party, in which case I would leave immediately. Yet again the reason didn’t fit; her terminology back in the grove had been vague but rather specific that this was not a pleasant surprise. Something was wrong but I could not figure out what it could be.

She walked some steps ahead of me, her mind still at unease as she glanced around the forest but never at me. It would make sense to simply ask her what it was that bothered her but doubted she would give me a straight answer in the time it took to get to town. Let her wallow in her guilt for now, I’d see soon enough what little fib she was keeping.

We step out of the forest and head straight into town. I move to stop her so as to tell her it was unwise for me to wander straight into town but I find that I don’t need to correct her. Passing by the first building into Ponyville I am surprised to see the place empty of the usual activity. There were no sounds of laughter or talking, just an uneasy silence.

I was immediately alarmed and discomforted at this strange foreboding silence that seemed to encompass the entire town.

Twilight doesn’t seem to notice, or perhaps she instead already knows the reason why this was so. She doesn’t stop or alter her pace for my sake. All the time she was looking at the ground as she walked in the direction of her tree home. I feel my hands clench on instinct inside my pockets, a natural reflex when I felt that trouble was about. Perhaps her lie had some basis after all? Maybe something else was afoot in this normally happy town? I’d get my answers soon enough.

We get to her door and I can see the ornate door was already left slightly open. Inside I could see only darkness. She stops short of the threshold and turns to watch my approach. She forces an awkward smile and says nervously with a slight laugh, “Well here we are.” She pushes the door open with a shaky hoof and I take a few steps forward to enter.

I abruptly stop just before the door’s threshold; something wasn’t right here.

I look down at her and she tries her best to act like everything is fine, I know by now that wasn’t so. From beyond the open door I could see the inside was dark, pitch black to be exact. My eyes flick towards the windows and my suspicions are confirmed that all the curtains were drawn so that no light could enter. It was unnaturally silent in there. This was not the moment just before a surprise was sprung. My instincts told me there was no joyful amazement waiting for me inside. One of the window curtains flutter slightly, brushed by someone waiting behind it. My suspicions feel confirmed.

I slowly turn my gaze upon the lavender unicorn, she’s terrified now of me. She couldn’t see it but she could feel the pure malicious expression I was giving her. My face contorted, my nose twitches with a barely contained rage that was slowly building in me.

“You tricked me,” I say with all my malevolent spite.

She shrinks away and stutters out syllables in an attempt to explain but I do not want to hear it. I have been betrayed.

No sooner had I taken two threatening steps towards the cowering unicorn did I see something white appear from one of the thick branches of Twilight’s home and race down. I move to defend myself but already the attacking thing had collided with me and we were both sent tumbling into the dim tree home. The door was shut and we were plunged into darkness.

I could hear Twilight banging on the wooden door trying to get in but it seemed someone else had closed it upon her. My concern remained the thing that was upon me. I could feel through the darkness that it wore armor, it was definitely a pony. I felt wings, correction, it was a Pegasus. We struggle upon the ground and I can hear someone telling us to stop, a feminine and regal voice that was not Twilight Sparkle’s. Neither of us listens. The Pegasus tries to pin me down but he obviously has never had to deal with someone my size and with the advantage of thumbs before.

Through our struggling I grab hold of one of the Pegasus’ wings at the joint and twisted until I heard the popping of cartilage and bone. The Pegasus gives a shout of pain and momentarily his strength is weakened. I take the chance by plowing my forehead against his exposed snout and kneed him in his abdomen. I pitch him off of me and managed to stand up again. I can see him in the darkness try to recover as he fluttered his damaged wing, I don’t want to give him the chance and with a swift kick to his side I send him crashing against a wall and ripped away one of the curtains that blocked the light out of the room. I was placed back into the light and had the chance to see another white Pegasus appear from the shadows. He turned around and tried to buck back into my chest. I take a step back and let his back legs strike the air just before my face.

I grab one of its back legs and use it as leverage as I use my knee to strike his side so that I may bring him down on his side. He is quick to recover thanks to the golden armor he wore and I’m forced back as he kicked out again. With the help of his wings he gets back up and rears his front legs forward to strike me. I feel the air in my lungs knocked out as the hooves strike me but I was willing to take the hit and let his front hooves continue to try and pummel my ribcage. Bringing my hands up, I slapped my palms against the pony’s ears. The stunning blow causes the Pegasus to shake his head from the resounding strike while stopping his own attacks. Sweeping my legs under the pony I pushed him off and let him fall onto his back.

I was upon him, smashing my fists against his snarling snout as the regal voice behind me shouted for me to stop. The second Pegasus appears to aid his companion. Knocking me to the ground he tries to stomp upon my face with his front hooves. I’m able to counter by delivering a sharp elbow to the pony’s face. A following punch forced him off of me.

He fell upon the ground, dazed and bleeding as I stand up. I prepare to plant my foot upon his exposed neck, intent on snapping it.

“Stop this at once!” the noble voice cries out and light fills the room. The curtains fall from their places from the windows and I turn and see a familiar princess rise from the floor, light emanating from her glorious white form. My foot poised to stomp down on the Pegasus’ neck began to descend but I feel my body in motion before I could finish him. My sight is a blur as I smash into a bookcase.

My hat falls from my head and fall to my knees but I barely notice its loss as I turned to glare at the princess. I move to stand back up but feel my body struck hard by an invisible force again. It felt like I had been struck by a car as I’m crushed once more against the book case. I fall back to my knees and plant my palms against the wooden floor as books fell upon my prone form, prostrated before the princess that had flung me like a rag doll against the bookcase. I cough and feel blood stain the interior of my face but I find myself softly laughing at the situation.

To think, twice in a lifetime I find myself faced against a godlike creature.

The princess walks over to me, her voice grave and calm, “I don’t want to hurt you but I won’t allow you to harm anymore of my ponies.”

I push myself forward hoping to catch her by surprise but I find myself flattened against the bookcase and flung hard against the ground yet again. I try to stand back up but it feels as though gravity itself is working against me. Still I try to stand up, still I choose to fight. Never compromise, especially in the face of death.

“Please… don’t try to get back up…. Don’t make me hurt you,” she now sounds on the verge of tears but somehow maintains that regal authority. Perhaps she was truly contemplating putting me down for good.

“Kill me now then! You think I'll just lay down and take a beating?” I harshly said as I glare back up to her, spitting blood until the sanguine stain could be seen from the outside of my mask.

She seems taken aback by my words and prepares to speak when the door to Twilight’s home is forced open. I see a familiar orange pony rush in, crying out “Wait!”

I take this chance distraction to try and reach the princess. I had no plan in mind; I had no reason to keep fighting anymore. I just wanted a good way to die. To go down fighting against the insurmountable as I always should have. Just as I expected the Princess forced me back, likely with more force than she intended as my charge seemed to startle her.

The back of my head smashes against the wooden shelves of the bookcase and my sight starts to darken. I feel a warm dampness envelop the back of my hair. The block blots of my face move to cover my eyes to help speed me along to the comforting darkness. I topple to the ground before me.

I’m satisfied to see the horrified expression on Princess Celestia’s face just as darkness claims me. At least it was more satisfying than seeing the passive gaze of Dr. Manhattan.

A bright white light fills my eyes, I should be blinded but I don’t look away. All I can see is that comforting light that envelops everything in its soothing glow. In the distance I can hear the soft falling of peaceful rain as it strikes upon the ground. I can smell the rain but could not see it; there was only the white peaceful light that seemed to cover everything.

I breathe a content sigh and the brilliance of the white light falters enough so that I may see. I am standing on lush grass, a small circular patch of greenery in an otherwise pure white light. In front of me stands a swing set, freshly painted a fire truck red. I can see stickers of rainbows, dinosaurs, and smiling yellow faces dot the painted steel piping. One smiley face looks straight at me, a drop of red paint falling across its surface and over one of its black eyes. I realize I don’t have my face on when a distant breeze from the rain caught my tangle mess of red hair. I don’t feel concerned by it, I don’t feel exposed. Somehow it all feels right.

I close my eyes to listen to the sound of the rain falling; a calmness I haven’t felt in such a long time permeates through me. I open them again when I hear someone humming. A young girl sat on one of the swing set’s seats with her back to me, her long brown hair brushed by the phantom wind of the rain gently. She wore a white and blue plaid dress; reminded me of the dress Dorothy wore in the Wizard of Oz in a happier time, in a happier place. Her black shoes shined in the white light that surrounded us, waxed and rubbed to perfection. Her hands were busy arranging the stems of white daisies into a crown as she hummed a song that had no rhyme or reason. It was a child’s song, hummed just for the sake of happiness and to pass the time.

I already know who it is and I want to run and hide in my shame. Instead I find myself stepping forward, towards the swing set and to the girl that has haunted my conscience for such a long time. She turns her head to me and gives me a warm smile. My nose burns, my eyes well up with tears as I return her innocent smile with my own sad one. Her eyes were blue, just like the picture. Freckles dotted her dimples; defining and complimenting her smile, nowhere near the amount of ugly freckles that dotted my own face. She looked just like she did from my dreams.

She would have been so beautiful if she had been given the chance.

“Hi there Mr. Rory,” she says happily and widens her smile to show her missing front tooth. She had lost it weeks before, her mother said, she had been so happy that she kept it from the tooth fairy just for safe keeping, citing she didn’t need any silver dollar in exchange for her trophy.

“Hi there Blair,” I say, nearly choking on my own words. I could feel the first of my tears crawl down my face and drip down upon the grass before me.

She’s still smiling at me, never faulting in her happiness to see me. I want to break down now, to fall to my knees and beg her to forgive me. I want to plead for her to be alright even though I know in my heart it isn’t true, I want to implore God himself she hadn’t been murdered. I don’t give in to my weakness, not yet. I stand there smiling back at her until she turns around to put the finishing touches on her crown of daisies. Going around the swing set I sit down in the seat next to her, the seat swings under my weight and I feel the urge to let go of my place on the ground; to let myself swing freely and not be tethered down to the ground.

I feel content to simply sit there and watch her patiently weave the stems through each other into a beautiful lace. “You got rid of your pigtails,” I say finally. She wore pigtails in the picture but her father had said she was waiting for the chance to grow her hair out like her mother. This is how she looked in my dreams, the way she wanted to look like.

“Mhm,” she says, letting herself swing slightly in the breeze of the rain, “I didn’t want to get my hair cut so I just let it grow.” She looks up at me and smiles again, “I think it looks nice, don’t you?”

“I-I think it looks beautiful,” I say, holding back the sob that tried to escape from my lips. My tears fell freely from their springs, working their way through my stubble and down to my jaw where they were dripping down into my lap.

She doesn’t notice, she continues her weaving and gentle swinging. “Do you ever dream Mr. Rory?” she suddenly asks me.

I nod, “Sometimes.”

“What do you dream about?” She asks, her voice is sweet and vibrant; she should have been a singer.

“Sometimes I have nightmares,” I reply honestly, “most of the times I dream of you.”

“What about me?” she asks curiously.

It’s hard now to contain the sobs, I have to pause to keep myself from falling apart in front of her, “I dream about what could have…. What could have been if I had just been faster…. I dream about saving you, telling you truthfully that…. everything was going to be alright… that there was nothing to be scared of. I wanted to imagine you would have grown up to be beautiful, to have a chance to live your life and not be tainted by the cruelty of the world…. I dream of you being happy…. I dream that men like Grice never existed….”

She stops her weaving to look at me with those blue eyes, they seemed to look into my very soul to carefully scrutinize every little fear and trouble I have ever had with innocent and loving care. “You think you failed me… don’t you?” she gently asks me.

I cry, a quick sound of despair and emotion, the tears won’t stop falling even after I close my eyes tightly shut, I nod slowly, “I should have saved you, I should have been better. You were taken and I let it happen…”

I shudder when I feel her soft small hand rest on my arm to comfort me. “You tried your best Mr. Rory.” She said.

It was too much for me, my armor was broken and I felt exposed to the world as I wept. I buried my face in my hands; I couldn’t let her see me like this but not once did that comforting hand on my shoulder leave my side. She let me weep quietly, the only other sound to be heard was the soft patter of distant rain.

I could feel her eyes upon me and I feel compelled to look back into them. I turn away from my tear stained hands to see her smiling sadly to me. “I’m glad I finally got a chance to meet you,” she said sweetly, like an angel comforting a dying man, “I think you’ve spent a really long time feeling sorry for yourself and everything else, haven’t you?”

I couldn’t lie to her; I nodded dumbly and tried to wipe away the tears upon my sleeve.

“You feel like you should be the one that’s dead.” She says.

I can only continue to nod, I know for certain my voice would break if I tried to speak.

“But you never thought about what I wanted for you,” she says sadly.

I turn and looked at her dumbly. I feel my heart shatter from those blue eyes, how selfish I have been all these years that even in my dreams I had never asked her what she wanted from me. I never even took the time to wonder what she would have liked to see me as because I had spent so long in my misery and rage. I took for granted that her single wish would have been to go on living and nothing more, never before had I given thought to what else the murdered little girl could have wanted. How selfish I have been to hide in behind my rage like a child.

She smiles at me, a pleasant and comforting smile that seemed to tell me everything was going to be alright. She looks down at the completed tiara of daisies she had made. It looked perfect, not one stem out of place. I wanted to tell her so but my voice wouldn’t work. I could only watch as she took the ring of daisies and reached over to me. She placed them on my head and adjusted just so I could barely see one of the daisies on top of my ginger locks. She sits back down into her seat on the swings and offers me another warm smile.

“I’d like to see you forgive yourself, even just once. I think you’d be a lot happier if you’d just try,” She said.

Her words cut deep and I felt myself laugh sadly, I look down and see the shining white reflections of my fallen tears upon the grass. “I’m… not dead yet am I?”I ask her.

She smiles and shakes her head, “No… I just thought we should talk Mr. Rory, before you went back to where you belong.”

“I don’t belong there,” I tell her and immediately regret it. I feel shame for contradicting anything she could every tell me. For Blair, this young girl I never rightly knew, I was ready to truly believe it if she had told me the sky was purple instead of blue, for her I would have embraced such an obvious flaw with open arms.

She doesn’t get upset, she doesn’t seem at all sad that I had disputed her. She offers me a comforting smile and I accept it with every fiber of my being, “It doesn’t look like it now, but I think you’ll understand in time.”

We’re stopped by the sound of distant thunder booming across the sky. We both look up towards the whiteness but see only the shining light, “I think it’s time for me to go,” she says with a frown.

I want to beg her to stay. I want to fall to my knees and plead her to remain with me for just a while longer. I don’t think it was possible though, it wasn’t time yet.

“Will I see you again?” I ask.

I grin when she mocks me by humming and pretending to think hard, “Mmmmm I think so, maybe if you keep dreaming you’ll keep seeing me?”

I laugh happily and nod. She goes on and asks me, “Will you give it a try Mr. Rory, I mean to take my advice that is?”

I nod, the tears finally dried upon my face, “For you, anything.”

She grins happily, the gap in her teeth showing proudly, “I’m glad.” She says as another roll of closer thunder is heard.

With that I’m torn away from my simple paradise.

I drowsily open my eyes, half hoping I was back on that swing set but already I could feel the wooden ground of the tree library. I take my first breathes back into the world and wish I had died. The ringing in my ears from that distant thunder still persists into my consciousness; beyond it I can hear talking. My memory comes back to me, of being tricked and ambushed, but I don’t feel angry. All I can feel still is that ethereal calmness that I held in my stupor.

I can hear Twilight Sparkle telling someone “He’s going to be alright, please calm down.” Another regal voice chimes in, “I hadn’t meant to use such force on him but he left me no choice.”

I’m apathetic to what they were saying. I can only mutter her haunting name, “Blair”. Going back to that spot again was all that mattered in my mind at the moment. Not my rage, not my earthly responsibility. Just the calmness of death and the crown of daisies I wore.

A frantic voice and form rushes to me. It was orange. “Did he just say somethin’?! Rorschach are you okay? Please, answer me!” she asks me worriedly.

I try my best to focus on her but my eyes refused to correct themselves, instead of tears staining my face I felt the dried blood cling to my scalp and cheeks. My face was gone, I should be panicking but I’m only calm as I quietly searched for it. I give a sigh of relief when my hands grip into the soft fabric of my face. Inelegantly I place it back where it belonged before answering the orange pony’s still frantic questioning of if I was alright or not.

“Would be better if you weren’t standing on my knee,” I finally say, glad to have the comfort of my face on again, uncaring that my identity had been seen by things that had never seen any human before.

Applejack looks down at her right forehoof and gingerly moves it. “Oh, sorry… you gave us quite a scare there, fella.”

I look around her and see now the others in the room. Princess Celestia and Twilight stood close together, watching my every movement. Nearby the two badly beaten guards I had fought earlier were being treated by a white pony with a red cross on her flank. Hadn’t realized the damage I inflicted, one of the Pegasus’ wings was still jutting at an unnatural angle, he wouldn’t be flying anytime soon.

The princess approaches me; she’s frowning but didn’t seem coarse or disapproving. She stops short of nearly reaching my extended leg and looks at me. “I’m sorry I had to use such force but I couldn’t let you harm my guards. Before you got here I informed them of the potential danger you represented; they were doing only what they felt was right.”

“Hurm, and you?” I ask her harshly. I don’t bother to see her reaction, I look over to Twilight, “I don’t like being deceived.”

She shifts uneasily and looks at the ground sadly. “This wasn't her fault; I told her to bring you here, but instructed her not to tell you for what purpose.” the princess says as she steps in the way of my accusing gaze.

I look to her, my eyes still refuse to focus themselves but I can see her form clearer now, “And what purpose is that?”

“Believe it or not I simply wanted to talk. I was afraid you wouldn’t come if you felt threatened.” She says in her regal and authoritative voice.

I can’t help but look down at my disheveled form and note again the blood caked to my head. “Really now?” I say with more than a hint of sarcasm, as much as I can muster.

Now it is her turn to look embarrassed as she says, “Things did not go as I hoped they would.”

“I heard there was a commotion down in town, that the mayor had asked everyone to stay indoors by the princess’ wish. I came down as quick as I could, had a feelin’ it had something to do with you.” Applejack says, getting my attention. “I found Twilight banging on ‘er own door and I ‘eard the commotion goin’ on inside. I kicked the door in just when you went and hit your head against the shelves tryin’ to get at the princess. What in tarnation were you thinkin’ doin’ something like that?” she angrily asks.

I don’t answer her. I bow my head to her because I can give no right answer. What would I say? That I was hoping to get killed? The sudden image of a young girl’s smiling face assaults my mind. I turn towards the Princess again and speak, “So now I’m subdued. What is it you want to talk about?”

She gives a hard frown and looks around to the ponies assembled, “Everypony, I’d like to speak to the human in private please.” The white Pegasus guards move to protest but she holds out a hoof and stops them, “I will be fine. Please, I would rather this be discussed in private.” She then casts her regal gaze upon Applejack and Twilight, “I promise I will explain everything later.”

Twilight, the nurse, and the two guards file out as they are told and after some hesitation and a nod from me Applejack leaves as well. Now it was only me, a broken man, and the Princess of Equestria.

“So what now,” I asked her.

“First, are you really alright? I hadn’t expected you to charge me so suddenly. I used too much force in trying to restrain you, and for that I am deeply sorry.” I can’t tell if her concern is feigned or not, sounded honest enough but monarchs could be masters of lying.

“I’ll be fine,” I say, slightly annoyed she was asking and also still bothered that I was torn away from Blair Roche.

She ignores my biting attitude and goes on with her questions, “You came a long way just to live in a forest. Why are you here, human?”

“So you know what I am then,” I say instead of answering her question. She doesn’t answer me but waits upon my own. We were both headstrong it seemed; this was going to take a while. “I didn’t have a choice in coming here. In essence I was killed and brought here instead of some afterlife.” I say after the stalemate of silence.

I wasn’t sure if I was expecting the casualness with which she accepted this but when she does I don’t feel the urge to question it. With the authority of a wise monarch she asks “What are your intentions here?”

I shrug like I had been asked if I’d rather have soup or salad before dinner, “I have none. Was expecting you to kill me so that I didn't need to worry about it.”

She looks horrified, the same look she gave when she thought I had been seriously hurt by her, “You…. Wanted me to kill you?”

I smirk at her reaction, “Monarch for thousands of years, and you've never executed someone? Your options were banishment, imprisonment, or atonement. I was hoping to see how far your resolve would go. I’m disappointed, but not surprised.”

Her eyes narrow in suspicion, “So it seems you know about Equestrian history, or more exact my ruling of Equestria.”

“Hurm, wasn’t lying around and lamenting turn of events in life. I have a rough idea of events. Seems I have a slight advantage in my knowledge over you.” I conceitedly say.

“Not as much as an advantage as you might think, human. I am aware of your kind though I haven’t kept my eye on your barbaric race in a long time. It has been many centuries since I last saw one of your kind, back when I first became aware of humans and their ways.”

I tilt my head at this revelation, “So I am not the first to appear am I?” I ask her.

She shakes her head, “No you are not.” Before I can ask about this she continues, “But that is a private matter I will not discuss with you.”

“I wonder what other secrets you keep from your subjects… your majesty.” I scowl. Thoughts of tyranny and conceited rules come to mind, how else does one keep such a harmonic rule over so many citizens? I begin to wonder if Thomas More was right in saying utopia could not exist.

“I only wish to keep them safe, they do not need to know about humans or to know there are places in existence that do not live in harmony.” She replies calmly, ignoring my subtle accusation.

“We share a familiar attitude toward humans then,” I say, “but I think you know more than you let on.”

She looks at me confused, an interesting look with her flowing mane that seemed to be caught by a mysterious wind. “What do you mean?”

I give her my theory but I don’t expect her to understand it but it was for my own sake that I say, “I think it isn’t a coincidence that I ended up here… nor do I think it an accident that I was forced here by an all-powerful being to a place ruled by two similarly powerful beings.”

“I don’t understand what you’re saying-“ she begins but stops when I continue with my rant.

“I once wondered how John is able to perceive all things at once,” I say harshly, “He explained to me that time wasn’t linear and in some cases time went backwards instead of forwards. I thought then, was it so farfetched then that he would wish to play god by creating his own little world someplace?” I scowl as I continue, “He so did enjoy his experiments; I would not be surprised to know he treats his subjects like rats thrown into hot water just to see what they did. I doubt he can hear me though, busy fixing atoms into new elements or changing energy particles into matter. Doesn’t bother to even check on his experiment until the times comes to see its results. Arrogant.”

Princess Celestia looks confused and more than a little bewildered, “You’re insinuating that this all isn’t real?” She shakes her head in pity, “You must be more far gone than I had first suspected...”

“No,” I tell her, “I know this is real. As real as anything can truly be.” I look at the ceiling and continue, “What does it matter though to convince you what I think, that this world is all a recent fabrication working backwards against everything I’ve come to realize as reality. I think you would rather not understand what I know, in this world’s greater existence its origins matter so very little who or what first created.” I can only imagine what the thoroughly confused princess looked like; she no doubt thinks I’ve gone mad. In a way I think I have, but at least I have someone to blame for it. Still looking at the ceiling I call out, “If you can hear me John, where ever you are, I hope you’re satisfied with yourself. You finally became God, finally made use of what little humanity you had left to make your own little harmonic world where no one has any other choice but to live together happily.”

I look back down and smile under my face to see the pity she was looking at me with, “I’m sorry, but you must have truly lost your mind at some point in time to believe something so farfetched. We in Equestria don’t live in harmony because we have to but because we want to, and we know in the end our harmony makes us stronger as a whole. To live any other way seems like madness to me. I could never choose to not love my little ponies no matter any differences we might have. I know where you come from things aren’t the same and for that I pity you, for you are insane.”

The reaction I was expecting from her. When I first learned of Princess Celestia I had suspected her a potential dictator, I realize now I don’t think that was true. I believe now she was compelled to have faith in harmony. She didn’t seem to question it but why would she? Anything other than that seemed insane to her. To her harmony was a fact of nature, like knowing creatures needed to breathe oxygen to live. Let Jon be damned to hell with screwing with free will if he was to blame for this world.

I change the subject, satisfied now that I had stated my theory and had gauged her reaction, “Hopefully that makes me less of a threat to you. That was what you were worried about wasn’t it?”

She notices how I suddenly changed the subject but perhaps she accounted that to my ‘insanity’. She speaks, “It wasn’t myself I was worried about. I was more worried about the potential harm you posed to my little ponies.”

I give a curt laugh, “So Twilight wasn’t entirely lying that her friends were in danger. She just failed to mention I was the danger.”

“I’m afraid so,” the Princess says, failing to catch on to my humor, “but now actually talking to you I still think you are a threat. So far you’ve shown a ferocious aggressiveness, insane beliefs, and an irrational tenacity.”

“Just like any other human I suppose.” I retort.

There is a pause as she thinks about what to say next, finally she goes on, “Yet somehow you’ve come to befriend my little ponies. Applejack especially was worried for your sake. I understand you saved her some days ago.”

“I did.” I say with a confirming nod.

“Then for that I thank you,” and to my surprise she bows before me.

I let the shock fade away for a few seconds before I reply, “I’ll be the first to agree with you that I’m violent. That my beliefs border on the insane, my best quality would be this irrational and dangerous tenacity I cling to. Believe me when I tell you I would never harm any of those ponies. They aren’t human, I couldn’t begin to compare them to humans, but they are more than that. Their protection I think is the only thing keeping me relatively sane instead of convincing myself that I've fallen into disuse. They’re too….”

“Innocent.” She finishes for me with a knowing smile.

I nod. For a moment we are silent until I ask the inevitable question, “So what happens now?”

She smiles and the tension in the room finally begins to dissolve even after my insanity and her smashing me against a wall. “I think that is partly up to you.” She says, “Despite what I have seen and at the request of Twilight and her friend I’m inclined to give you a chance to go about your business without Luna and me watching you.” So it seemed it was not my imagination that the moon was watching me. She continues, “I hope I don’t come to regret this. If I hear even one pony was hurt by you I won’t regret sending you to the sun.” She’s still smiling but I don’t know if she was being serious or joking, probably both.

I can’t help but give a short fit of laughter at the thought of being sent to the sun, I wonder if my head would explode before I burnt up. “Not the death I would hope for.” I say. I laugh again and to my surprise she joins me in the tension relieving laughter. I stop laughing and look to the windows, I smile and say, “It seems we have an audience.”

She looks to the windows to see more than just a few ponies peaking in from the small circular windows of the tree library. I recognize the faces as ponies that lived in Ponyville, I even spotted some of the ponies I’m more familiar with, most specifically Twilight and Applejack but from another higher window I saw Rainbow Dash’s face and ear against one of the higher windows, in another lower window Pinkie Pie was doing the same. Each one was looking in at wonder at us, trying their best to listen in to what was being said. I doubt any of them could hear anything we were saying but the sight alone of their Princess talking to an alien thing was attention grabbing enough.

“So it seems,” she says with one of her trademark regal and knowing smiles, “Shame they won’t hear anything though.”

“So now that I know I’m not about to be banished what is it that you wish to ask of me?” I ask her, pulling my legs up. I rub the back of my head and am surprised to feel no obvious wound. Perhaps the Princess used her magic to stop the bleeding? Did she have that power? How ironic that she could do so where the indestructible man would not. I wonder, what else could these ethereal alicorn beings do that John could not? Besides of course the raising of the sun and the moon, although perhaps the indestructible man could do that as well. No doubt he would cite the illogicality of doing so.

Part of me took comfort in knowing that Dr. Manhattan wasn’t the most powerful being in the universe. No single entity should ever hold that much power besides God himself.

She sits down onto the wooden floor, crossing her forelegs and regarding me with scholarly interest, “Well the last time I heard of human history your kind were in the Renaissance. I’d like to hear what has happened since then. Don’t be afraid to skip any of the darker details, after hearing of the Crusades I doubt anything you say can make me cringe.”

I had to wonder where exactly she got such extensive knowledge. Being the ruler of a faraway dimension she shouldn’t even know that humans exist. She had said she had met humans before but she refused to elaborate. Something personal perhaps? Or the encounter was less than pleasant, my instincts told me that seemed to find this most believable. Where ever man goes he seems to have the tendency to disrupt the previous natural order of things. After all how could they not? It was in man’s blood to survive and conquer.

“Very well. Knowledge is a bit rusty on the topic of world history but will try my best to relate what I remember. After the Renaissance, Europe was placed into a new age of intellectual understanding and science. Eventually lead to second largest advancement in human history, the Industrial Revolution….”

[And here it is, props go out again to AnonyMouse who found the time and a place in his heart to put up with my missing words and my misunderstanding of the difference between breathe and breath (Honest to the lord I had no idea what the difference was until he explained it to me, apparently primary school screwed me over).

He also mentioned something that I thought I'd just address here. Between the book and the movie Rorschach has a difference in age. In the book he is 45 but in the movie he's 32, that's a pretty big difference and I had to decide which I felt was better for the story since I had a choice. In the end I went with the book for his age (though don't expect events to entirely adhere to the book as I take some elements from the movie that I felt was better than the novel). The reason for this is both for the story and an ulterior motive.

For the story I'm sorry to say I don't really see Rorschach... well shipping with any pony and I wanted his age to reflect this, I just don't see it happening.. at all, I know this might dishearten some readers but that doesn't mean he isn't going to have no emotional attachments to anyone else. The point of the story after all is attempting to redeem his broken personality.Now between 32 and 45 physically he is still just as capable as he is albeit with a few kinks in his joints, he didn't suddenly loose all his edge just because the years got to him. Mentally his age reflects also his wisdom, how over the years he's learned more than his share of knowledge from the cold world he lived in.

Now for the ulterior motive.... I'm tired of these young, college aged guys suddenly finding themselves in Equestria.

DON'T GET ME WRONG, just because the protagonist is young is absolutely no reason to discredit the story and most often the sort of cliche is a safe haven to go to so that the author can go on straight to the story rather than dwell too much on the character. Most of the HiE I read and love is still young, college guys ending up in Equestria because I can sort of relate to the guy as I'm in university too and love Little Ponies (still trying to decide if I would actually be okay ending up in Equestria... no idea how strong the Apple Cider is if you understand my meaning.)

Now enough trying to make an excuse for myself, I wanted a new take on the popular human in Equestria deal. Instead of someone who is fit, young, and willing to learn new things about his new world I thought what would the difference be to an older man? Someone who has already concretely formed his impression of what the world is like and how cruel life is, someone who is stubborn in these beliefs and refuses to adjust them even when finding himself in a foreign environment. There are other reasons as well but this is the strongest reason to be had for me.

And in final news I punched my roommate Arthur in the face and I'm worried about the retribution. I think he order a taser off the internet...

Well I don't want to leave on that note so I want to give some thanks to the musical composition that helped me in writing some parts.

The scene with Blair Roche: Rain Excerpt composed by Marty O'Donnell

Put it on a loop and read the scene, that's about what it was written to with a background of rain to it.

- That is all,

'Out of Nothing']

(10) Never Trust the Color Azure

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Chapter 10: Never Trust the Color Azure

Best wishes to my former editor AnonyMouse, his critical eye shall be missed and I hope everything turns out better for him

“What do you think it is they’re talking about?” Rainbow Dash asked the lavender unicorn next to her.

Neither turned their eyes away from the surreal scene that was taking place in what was in essence Twilight Sparkle’s living room. The feelings of guilt and fear that had plagued the unicorn earlier were gone since she started watching the two figures inside converse. “I wish I knew,” Twilight said quietly. It had taken her some time to figure out the human Rorschach and Princess Celestia were talking. At first glanced it seemed like the two were sitting on the ground staring at each other until Twilight spotted the subtle motions of Rorschach’s jaw moving. It was difficult to tell with a man who always hid his face behind an impenetrable wall of white canvas and black blots.

For hours they’ve been sitting like this, Rorschach unmoving and unfaltering in his position. The princess was the only emotive one as she reacted to a silent story. The story though did not seem to be very pleasant as most often or not the Princess looked at the human with a mixture of disgust, disdain, and sometimes horror. All the while Rorschach never did anything more than roll his neck or shoulders after being still for so long. The princess would sometimes pace around as he spoke, absorbing the information given to her until inevitably she was brought back down to the ground again by some startling twist to an otherwise grotesque and abhorrent story. Other times, when she did speak what Twilight assumed were questions it was brief with the exception of one occurrence when the Princess suddenly seemed saddened by something Rorschach had said, but her answer to him was lost upon her student. For Twilight and the others watching the curiosity of what was being said was maddening. What could ever be said that could bring their Princess down to her knees in shock or awe?

The crowd had mostly dispersed from her windows to the unicorn’s relief but most remained nearby; quietly talking to each other about what they thought was going on. For them this was as of yet another strange event to happen to Ponyville, yet to develop into any crisis like the event with Nightmare Moon. A chance to see the Princess was rare, to involve herself in Ponyville affairs even more, none of them were inclined to miss out upon such a drama no matter how boring it seemed.

Hours continued to pass until the sun began to fall from its crescent and neither occupant showed any signs of stopping their talk for water or food. They just talked, and talked, and talked. It got to the point where even the four friends turned away their sore eyes from the windows to sit down on the warm ground to discuss among themselves what was going on inside.

It came as a sudden shock to all of them when the door finally opened and Princess Celestia trotted out. The four little ponies caught the tail end of what the Princess was saying as she exited the library, “I still don’t understand your apprehension with a group that sings about peace, love, and harmony. What possible harm could the Beatle’s ever cause with music?”

They heard Rorschach scowl as he followed the princess out, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, “Hippy propaganda corrupting American youth with communist ideals to make them weak and empathetic to Red Cause. Subliminal messages under façade of colorful tunes and catchy beats. American youth notoriously weak willed, easily influenced.”

Celestia shook her head and gave an aggravated sigh, “Reasoning with you is like attempting to talk a dragon into giving up his trove.”

“And talking to you gives me a headache. Has been since getting through first half of twentieth century, don’t understand apprehension had with incinerating Hiroshima and Nagasaki.” The gruff human said as the Ponyville residents started to stir and approach their princess and the foreign thing speaking to her without finesse. Twilight, Rainbow, Pinkie, and Applejack were center and foremost in trying to understand what exactly they were talking about. No doubt they had gotten the tail end of some ongoing discussion that seemed to be going for a while, neither one in their tone seemed very fond of the other much to the four’s disappointment.

“Oh and you can just justify the…” she takes a furtive glance at the ponies and reforms her retort into a gentler remark, “Well can your leaders actually justify doing such a thing to so many innocent lives that had nothing to do with your war?”

Much to her aggravation Rorschach shrugged nonchalantly and answered, “Japanese menace had to be put down quickly. Bomb was best way to show their aggression wouldn’t be tolerated. Sacrifice had to be taken, if it was choice between foreign lives and American ones let it be the foreign. They brought it upon themselves in the end.”

She gave an exasperate sigh before she responded, “Humans haven’t change a bit… I suppose this is a topic for another time.”

“So what did you two talk about? Is Rorschach in trouble?” Applejack asked, trying her best to keep the worry out of her voice.

The Princess seemed to think upon the question for a moment, regarding the human with a cold gaze, “I haven’t fully made my decision yet,” Applejack felt her heart sink until the Princess finished speaking, “but for now, no.”

The four exhaled a sigh of relief that was quickly replaced with shock from Rorschach’s attitude towards the situation. Gesturing with his shoulder to the Princess he flatly spoke in regards to her highness, “Still thinks should spend rest of days in dungeon. Starving on moon or incinerated by sun too easy to end by.”

“Please do not tempt me,” The Princess shot back, “for now I have my own reasons to give you some leeway on this and for potentially badly injuring my guards.”

“Should train them better then.” Rorschach snapped back much to the chagrin of the four ponies in front of him.

He ignored the venomous glare the Princess fixed upon him and turned to look at the four, “Will continue to reside in forest, see no reason to change that. Unless detained, possible future. For now, Princess is satisfied with feeling surviving in hostile forest is punishment enough.”

“I never said anything of the sorts!” Celestia scoffed, she looked around at the ponies that had gathered and quickly returned to her regal demeanor, ignoring her own outburst.

“Didn’t need to. Too emotional, too easy to read at end,” The human said. He turned back to face her, “So then, are we done here?”

Maintaining her royal visage she answered, “Far from it, but for now I need to time to think about what you have told me, and to inform my sister she’d need not worry over your presence.”

“Hrm, telling someone to stop worrying is telling someone to turn off sense of reasoning. She can do as she please for all I care, have been hounded before.” Rorschach harshly responded and started to walk away towards the crowd. The ponies immediately took a cautious step back from the strange, frightening creature that was before them. Some even gasped at the sudden movement towards them that the bipedal had made.

Celestia quickly stepped in and spoke loudly in a calm and regal voice, trying to ignore the subtle doubt in her own mind, “It’s alright my ponies, no need for alarm. This creature is of no danger to you all and if you leave him be he shall not trouble any of you. You have nothing to fear from him.”

“Still telling lies are you?” Rorschach scoffed from over his shoulder, “What was saying? Ah yes, c’est la vie. Never cared much for French but term fits better in their language for something that seems to transpire in any and all walks of existence. I assume you know what it means from your little remark.”

He didn’t bother to turn to see the frown the princess fixed upon him, the crowd of ponies parted to let him pass; whispers dominated the crowd as they all looked to the departing human and their Princess.

She didn’t bother to grace the human with an answer, for the time she had spent talking to him she doubted he would really care. Rorschach didn’t seem to care about anything really. The way he talked about horrors, the nightmares of world wars, the holocaust, the atomic bomb, and the hopelessness humans have found themselves in. The insane man talked about them like it was the weather, just another thing in the natural life of man. It was easy to see he had a loathing for humans that even she didn’t have.

She pitied man and their follies, she couldn’t help but be empathetic to the suffering of others, and she could see with her empathy that for some reason Rorschach was bearing man’s evil burdens upon his shoulders. It was an attitude she was familiar with, she had seen it before over a millennium ago. Her heart ached to think of that time again.

She quietly watched the four ponies bow to her and rush off to follow the leaving man. Her mind was already thinking back to a wholly different time where harmony and happiness was still just a sought after ideal. A time where she and her beloved sister were just students to wise mentors that bore the weight of a thousand sins upon their own shoulders.

“Such is life,” she whispered, watching the four best friends, four of the six elements of harmony, rush off to see to a broken man.

Foolish. Naïve. Egotistical. Was like talking to treasonous liberal with erroneous socialist ideals. A little foal pretending to be a princess, that’s what it was. Even with all her power, even if she has lived for a thousand years I could not help but feel eons older than her. She knew nothing of what made the world real. Hatred. Prejudice. death. Sin. Sin is what makes the world real, it is what separates simply existing in a wondrous dream or heaven to living, not this fantasy world of bright colors, it was physical but far from real. To humans real is conflict, to know that discord existed, or else they feel their lives are but an illusion.

Man despises peace, he might convince himself he wants tranquility but what he wants is to contend with death, to cry out against some force to say that ‘I prosper, despite you’. When there is not enough conflict and man feels life is not enough he will create conflict with his hatred. He will form borders with his fellow man on the simple basis of his skin color, his ethnicity. For a time we said this manta, “We will prosper, despite you”, to pestilence and famine, when that became obsolete the only two that man remained in the clutches of was the inescapable shadow of death and the raging inferno of war.

And to think we crave, fear, and use war with so little regard. To fear war now seemed redundant. As long as man existed war was as inescapable as death itself.

Hopelessness, so much hopelessness. What a joke. A sick joke that people would feel hopelessness for a situation they created, that they allowed to happen. Like teens who start a fire for the sake of it, but find it has grown all around them. And they’re locked in handcuffs attached to a furnace, unable to escape it all.

Let them all burn instead of existing in their superfluously fake peace. All deserve to burn. Let the dead watch from the afterlife the flames scorch bright in the darkness of space. Let man burn alive in the waste they let built around them.

Hell would seem cold in comparison.

Hell can’t compare to the hopelessness of man’s folly.

We make our own hell and hold it dear to us...

“Rorschach! Wait!”

I stop; the familiar voice breaks my flow of thoughts. I shake my head as if I had been in a daze even though I was thinking quite clearly. I turn to see Twilight Sparkle and her friends reach me before I could reach the edge of the Everfree forest, my one haven where conflict still existed.

I spot the lavender pony. I should feel angry that she tricked me, enraged that she would dare send me into a trap. Had she been grown human woman I may have hurt her badly, without regret. Such a person would deserve punishment, a human that would betray the trust of another, to nearly cause their death would be grounds for any human to exact harmful intent upon that betrayer.

She was not a human though; she was an awkward pony who loved to read anything and everything. I take no satisfaction in realizing even these ponies had the ability to deceive; at least there was comfort that it was not with the ease that man used it with. And so instead of anger, or rage, I feel nothing. Despite my best effort I can’t feel the reassuring grip of rage blind my sight and guide my hand.

I simply watch as she and her friends stop before me, I try to not look at Twilight, instead choosing to focus on what my face would look like to them. All I can surmount from it were restless shifting black blots and nothing more.

Twilight tries to speak but shrinks away under what she assumes is my unrelenting gaze. Her mind fills in the blanks of what she cannot see. She expects that I am regarding her with hate, malevolence, and anger. That’s what she saw in my mask right now. The young unicorn takes a nervous step back. I can’t trust her anymore. Yet I cannot be angry, my rage slips my grasp. All I can see is a yellow smiley face sticker, with a drop of fire truck red paint that had dripped down over its right eye.

“I… just wanted to say I’m sorry… and I… understand if you’re angry with me.” She started quietly, her head bowed to the ground so it was hard to hear. I swore I saw the shimmer of tears in her eyes. I should tell her she knew what she was doing, reprimand her that she knew what the consequences were going to be. What point was there to cry, to show such weakness from lapse of judgment? I don’t speak; I don’t want to chastise her. These ponies were so weak; to correct them as such would be of little sense. And without this correction of their actions what left was there for me to say to them?

“But Twilight, Rory isn’t angry!” Pinkie Pie suddenly says, placing a comforting hoof on the unicorn’s shoulder.

Twilight turns to look at her friend in sad confusion, then to me to see for herself if it was true. Uncertainty was written on her face as she looked back to the pink pony, “Wha-what? He should be furious with me; I betrayed his trust… even if it was at the princess’ request.”

“Well he isn’t. I mean come on! It’s written plain as pancakes on his face that he isn’t angry. He’s just sorta looking at you strangely.”

“Huh?” the other two ponies look at Pinkie in confusion, they look at me in wonder and then back to their friend. Still as utterly confused as I was.

I’m not sure what to think. I feel vulnerable. Someone. No, a pony. saw past my face and beyond the black blots of my features to see the emotion that I bury under my anger. She knew it with such little hesitation as well, I feel taken aback by it all. I look to her in hopes of deciphering how she managed to read let alone register my thoughts and emotions. She simply giggled in that bubbly voice of hers and said casually to me, “You’re face looks like a bird on top of a cat’s head.”

Her friends disregard the… unusual statement and rather look to me for an answer. To be read so easily unsettled me and I felt the compulsive urge to say it was not true, that I truly was furious. But what point was there in lying to her? I shake that memory from my mind.

I sigh and slowly begin to nod, “Friend... is correct. Not angry. Should be, but not.”

She sighs in relief at my answer and I feel annoyed that she thinks she could have the burden lifted from her mind so easily. I turn on my heels and begin to walk away again, “Don’t let it happen again though. Cannot guarantee I will feel the same for second offense.”

“Hold on Rorschach,” Applejack says suddenly, reaching a hoof out to gesture for me to return. For anyone else I would walk away, even Dan could not persuade me, ever, if I had a mind to leave. Yet for the orange pony I feel am compelled to return to my previous spot to at least hear what it was that she had to say. She kicks the dirt before her as she speaks furtively, “I think I can speak fur everypony ‘ere in askin’ what it was that you and the Princess talked about. I was actually hoping you’d come to the farm with me so you can tell us since it seems like quite a long tale.”

I have to keep myself from scoffing at the mention of the fraud princess again, “Ask her then. She’s the one who would take offense from you knowing.”

Applejack angrily huffed, “What’s that supposed to mean? Knowing about what exactly?”

I pause and wait for her anger to disappear from her features. Once I was satisfied that she was better I said quietly, “Things that teh young should never concern yourselves with.”

“So you talked to her about where you’re from?” Twilight asked. I’m not surprised with her intuition by now; she was smarter than her age let on after all.

“Well that doesn’t make sense. I mean we were watching her and she was actin’ like you were telling her the story of the headless pony or something worse from her reactions,” Rainbow Dash countered.

“Oh?” I say, gaining her attention, “what reactions would that be?”

She taps her hoof to her chin, “Well to be honest she looked horrified, sometimes disgusted, and most of the time she looked angry.”

“Exactly why you don’t need to know. If it bothers her as such then how do you think you’d take to it?”

“But-“, the rainbow maned Pegasus begins but is cut off by my abrupt voice.

“I told you stories of time as a hero, left out… more grisly details. I told your Princess story of human history. Stories that don’t have such happy endings.” I look sternly at each of them and even Pinkie shrinks from my severe gaze. “If that’s all.” I start to turn in order to leave but stop when I see the lavender unicorn step forward.

“Please, would you at least talk to us? I want to apologize and explain to you why I did what I did. You might not be angry but that’s no excuse for what I did.” She sadly says to me.

It struck me as odd that she was being persistent in asking for forgiveness. Unnecessary to do so. I turn again to leave, causing the unicorn to turn her downtrodden gaze upon the ground again. That was until Applejack threw me a knowing smile, “Granny Smith’s making another batch of apple pie today, should be fresh out of the oven any time soon if’n you hear Twilight out.”

I can’t help but stop and digest her words. A poor choice as in answer my stomach loudly grumbles from lack of nutrition. A sound that I find to my dismay the ponies have heard. Even Twilight was trying to hide a laughing grin over my plight.

I sigh and turn back around, this time for good. “I… suppose an explanation would do no harm.”

I found myself sitting upon the cool grass that covered the ground beneath the apple trees of Sweet Apple Acres. I’m beginning to get used to these awful names slowly but cannot decide if such a thing is good or bad. Can’t say I cared all too being content to eat a reminder of paradisal version of home. Since arriving here it has been my staple of civilized food that I have eaten. No doubt there were other foods I could safely eat but the thought never interested me. I’d make do with what I had and because of Applejack it happened that apple pie was a frequent choice in what I had.

The young farmer had to finish her chores around the farm, a task she neglected this morning in favor of seeing that I was not banished to the sun or killed by the Princess, so left the four of us to discuss the day’s events. I leaned against one of the many trees in the acre, three pastel colored ponies sitting in front of me. Any other time before my death I would have found this situation a cruel joke, I tried not to think on it. Moments ago there had been three more as it seemed school had gotten out and the self-proclaimed crusaders wanted to see the monster again when they saw I was in Sweet Apple Acres again. To keep them from bothering me for a while I elected for them to take my hat and trench coat for them to do as they please instead. Glad to see foals are like children, easily distracted with alien and unfamiliar objects. From the corner of my eye I could see Sweetie Belle attempting to navigate her way around while wearing the very bulky mass of the coat. Applebloom though had better luck with my hat, it was a good thing her head was big and mine was small as she had no trouble wearing it and pretending to be someone named ‘Daring Do’.

Once I was finished eating and the three ponies were finished with the snacks that Applejack had brought them as well I asked for Twilight to tell me what had sparked the events of this morning.

She started with the letter that she had received last night after she returned from the party. The letter was short, ominously worded against me, so Twilight wasn’t sure what to make of it. Early in the morning the Princess had arrived with her guards, apparently she had come with more than just the two. She was quick to ask very specific questions to the young unicorn. Has he attacked any pony? Has he talked at all about where he was from or why he was here? Did he carry a sword; did he proclaim himself a soldier or warrior? That last two part question threw me off guard; I did not expect such a specific question to be asked from the Princess. Had something to do with the last human visitors she met perhaps?

Twilight Sparkle had answered the questions thrown at her the best she could. She had told the Princess I had not yet hurt anypony, as she guiltily told me that at the time with the message still fresh in her mind she expected me to suddenly snap and start attacking ponies for no reason. She mentioned to the Princess though that I had instead saved Applejack from timber wolves, apparently one of my very few redeeming qualities. She explained I had not spoken much about where I was from except fighting crime and the mentioned threat of total destruction that my home was currently in. And finally she told the Princess I did not carry a sword, nor did I call myself by any title. At least no title she knew of.

With her questions answered the Princess felt she needed to quickly adjust her plans to her approach with me. She had previously planned to escort me back to Canterlot so I could reside in the dungeon until she knew I was not a threat. It was only at her prodigy’s insistence that she decide not to. Had to wonder how many guards she previously had, my guess was not enough.

Twilight told the Princess that I was paranoid and had some knowledge of Equestrian history. Celestia doubted I would come if asked; she at least was right about that. At her request Twilight was asked to get me back to the library without revealing Celestia’s presence so she could talk with me. It seemed though she had already told her guards the potential danger I possessed and they were told to be on edge. It seemed when I was about to potentially harm Twilight Sparkle one of the guards chose to react to get me away from her. Can’t exactly blame him even though I tell myself I would not have harmed her. Sometimes certain regrettable things happen when letting rage take over the senses.

The rest was obviously history.

For a while we are left in relative silence besides Pinkie listing off every change my mask made. An upside-down birthday cake. Two lollipops crossed over each other. Rainbow Dash finally put a stop to it by asking again what it was Celestia and I were talking about. Her tone alone let me know she was not going to let the matter drop any time soon. Why was she so loyal to this Celestia? I tell her again, blunter, that I was not going to tell her. If she wanted the grisly details of a world beside her own she can ask the Princess that demanded it be kept a secret from them. She grumbles irritably but fell silent.

Twilight asks me if it was really that bad.

I tell her it was worse than any nightmare she could ever have.

The morbid statement silenced them and gives me an opening to leave. I stand up and say my farewells to them. In some half-hearted attempt to comfort their disquieted minds I tell them to be thankful for everything they have and again they shouldn’t concern themselves with the mistakes of a cancerous species.

I go to collect my things from the Cutie Mark Crusaders.

To my horror I find they’ve covered my coat in glitter and childish stickers in an attempt to make the coat ‘prettier’.

Rarity gave a hard frown to the offending stain that she had found in one of her less used trunks. The fashion designer was preparing to use it to hold a new shipment of fabrics when she found its interior splattered in a disgusting, awful smelling stain covering the inside. At first she had been horrified as it held the noticeably metallic hint of blood but she managed to convince herself it was not. She would never keep anything in a trunk that could possibly have blood on it and the smell didn’t entirely match.

She could have sworn the stain smelled like wet dog as well as blood.

Dumping cleaning product after cleaning product into it she doused the entire trunk in warm, soapy water, cleaning away the pestilent black stain from the trunk and its edges.

She could concern herself later of the stain’s origins when it was clean and gone from her sight and from existence.

“For a human who claims to survive, you aim very high to die,” Zecora said through clenched teeth as she pulled the thin black cord to close the deep slash on my shoulder, Deltoid muscle I think it was called. I barely registered each poke with the needle, so familiar I was to its feeling. The Zebra’s numbing ointment helped as well to dull the pain.

“What was it this time, human? Wolf with sleek wood teeth or Manticore with claws that cut so deep?” She asked me once she had bitten the needle off of its line to let the thread dangle from where the last knot into my skin was made.

“Neither. Wyvern I came across down near the briar thicket at the river. Wasn’t even hunting it.” I reply.

“Excuse me if I find it hard to believe, you don’t cleave every monster you come to perceive.” She said with a roll of her eyes, finishing the stitching and letting me move my arm again to test out the arm. As always she did a perfect job, much preferred her than to going into town for a doctor. Besides she was much closer, less chance to bleed out.

“Thank you,” I say once I’m sure the stitching would hold and the pain was not substantial. The Zebra was an expert in the healing arts as well as her alchemy. Never thought I would positively regard a practitioner of pagan magic.

“I would say anytime but you may take the term too seriously,” she told me with a joking smile. I smirk and say farewell again as I recover my shirt and coat. I shut the hut’s door gently and step out into the forest and the warm rays of the sun.

It has been some weeks and days since I met the Princess and I have been busy to stave off the boredom of being left to my thoughts. The ponies for the most part respected my privacy and leave me to my humble existence surviving the forest. The one exception was Applejack who worried for my safety. She was a pleasant mare, shouldn’t need to concern herself with my wellbeing. To keep her from trekking through the forest I visit Sweet Apple Acres every two days or so to show I still breathed, relatively.

Besides the needless distraction I have been doing well to conquer the forest as my own. I might not have human adversaries to bring to justice but some creatures in this forest prove to be just as deadly or more frightening and dangerous than any average thug with a gun.

My first encounter of this was late one night when I had wandered too close to the recent kill of a Manticore. Was nearly mauled before I managed to beat the creature back, I should count myself lucky that it was not aiming to kill me but rather to scare me off from its territory. At least I know now what lion roared late at night. Since then I’ve made it a point to cull the numbers of Everfree’s dangerous monsters in a way that I’m sure the Pegasus Fluttershy would be horrified of. Venturing deeper into the forest I’ve found even more dangerous monsters, since then I’ve used my journal to record their characteristics, their weaknesses, and the uses for their corpses.

Zecora has been invaluable help in that last attribute. In bringing her the slain creatures she identifies their uses and takes parts that she has need of, in trade the zebra gives me supplies that I need such as salt with iodine and limes. With her as my guide I give names to the things I kill or find. Manticores, Hydras, Wyverns, Basilisks, Sea Serpents, Chimera, Ursa Majors and Minors, Dragons, and at one time I even observed a Spriggan disappear into the forest brush.

So far I’ve found no sign of the timber wolves I have previously hunted but I have plenty of other prey in the lesser monsters and have observed the major ones in secret. I have yet to fully contend with the Hydra that resides in Froggy Bottom Bog, not prepared yet. Recently though the Hydra had lost one of its head with a fight with some unknown adversary, I’ve found the blood dripping from its severed, withered head was a potent poison for any living thing and have coated spears in the virile ichor.

The Sea serpent I know of that makes its home in the river’s rapids I’ve found not to be a threat but a massive annoyance. He speaks, and I wish he did not, going on and on about his moustache. I should choke him to death with the stupid facial hair but he’s done nothing wrong. Yet.

The Manticore as well I’ve left alone. I’m not stupid enough to fight a lion, let alone a mystical Manticore, on even footing. Like the Hydra I would have to wait for when I held the right conditions and I had iron weapons in my use.

Still my list was thick with potential creatures to hunt. Already have my next mark. Ghastly Gorge, infested with Quarral Eels. Zecora says their eyes are worth much alchemically. More interested in the use their hides could give me. Already have an idea of how to hunt them with the information Zecora had given me of how the eels act when creatures get too close to their nests.

The rest of my day was painfully uneventful. The wyvern’s claw had slashed deep into my muscle; I know I won’t be able to strain it for fear of tearing the stitching and causing more bleeding to my wound.

Zecora would be quite upset to see me back in the same day for a second time.

I try my hand again at crafting a net from the vines; pride keeps me from asking for a properly made one. Managed to get four squares into a manageable pattern before it turned into a tangle mass of uncooperative plant fibers.

I give up quickly and toss it into the pile with the rest of the failed netting. It seemed ever growing.

I move on to practice my archery. Had made a stout bow which I can proudly say turned out acceptable after many failed attempts. Now that I had a bow and a collection of arrows I had to learn how to actually use them. Results so far have been quite disastrous. I stopped once I was sure my hands had enough cuts and splinters on and in them.

And so I was left with my thoughts again.

After a while of sitting on the dirt ground of my cave I write in my journal, looking back to my first entries in this new world. In between each entry I had written down my sporadic thoughts in harsh handwriting. I was surprised to see a gradual change in how I wrote the more time I spent in Equestria. Perhaps lack of human contact was causing a slowly creeping insanity in my mind. Yet… in a way my writing was clearer. It was not dissimilar, I would explain to myself, it was still myself that spoke… only changed.

I wasn’t sure what to make of it. I felt no obvious change in me besides near death experience that led me to see Blair Roche. After seeing her I did feel calmer but that did not account for the changes in my writing, or rather my thought process.

Interesting development. Further introspection into the matter would be needed later. Much later.

Tossing the journal back down onto the rock next to me I stand up. I don’t want to think anymore. Needed to busy myself, not worry about miniscule changes in writing. Standing up I reach down and grab the old axe Big Mac had given me a few days ago to gather wood. The blade was dull, the sheen of the metal tainted with rust. Was glad still to have cold iron in my hand instead of useless rock and sticks.

Chopping wood was tiring and gave me a distraction away from my thoughts. Glad for the activity.

I worked until the sun had fallen and I could feel the Moon’s cold glare upon my back. Such as it was every night it seemed. Perhaps it was my paranoia but I felt sure it was Princess Luna watching me still. I wondered actually if she could see me through the moon, or perhaps she was here right now, watching me from the shadows that the moon’s light did not touch.

I could hardly say I cared.

Stacking the last of the wood into the neat pyramid I had made I gather the few blocks I needed under my arm to take back to my shelter. The soft grass crunched underneath my steps. The calmness of the night was relaxing. In the distance I could hear the soft roar of a Manticore underneath the chirping of frogs. Around me the flickering of fireflies danced around me and through the shrouded forest. I give a content sigh, letting one of the few moments where I felt calmness wash over me.

The feeling died when I reached my cave where an azure glow emanated from within.

A soft blue hue that I was all too familiar to me.

My hand gripped tightly upon the stock of the axe I held in my hand. Carefully I drop the wood I had been carrying onto the gravel dusted ground. If it was him, he already knew I would be here, he already knew I intended to harm him. That foresight of his prevented any surprise, I would be foolish to think a rusted old axe could even hurt the indestructible man.

Like I cared anymore I thought, feeling my rage consume my senses.

Hefting the axe into my grip I slowly and carefully crossed the distance to the cave. I could not see him; the outcrop of rocks that hid me from the south approach was now blocking my view within, to the intruder that was in my haven. My steps make only the slightest of noises, my hand touches the cool rock outcropping. As I approach I can hear the sound of a muttering voice. The bright blue glow falters for a moment and continues again.

I turn the corner sharply, axe in hand.

My grip slackens.

Instead of the indestructible man, I find myself glaring down upon a very frightened azure unicorn wearing a tattered star splattered cape cowering before me.

[Self edited so perhaps not the best of qualities as I'm not very good at editing my own work. Next chapter I'll have a new editor. Before you ask I already have someone in mind who asked me some time ago in a private message.

So yeah, sorry this took so long but one of my dear friends had the tenacity to have his appendix try to explode. I told him to stop being a baby about it but all he did was squirm on the ground when I kicked him. Ah well he's better now, down one less appendix but he's got another one in his little library collection.

Thanks for reading, my lovely readers!

-Ex Nihilos]

(11) A Dead Boar and Slapstick Therapy

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Chapter 11: A Dead Boar and Slapstick Therapy

Special Thanks to my Editors: Imperius, AwesomeSauce57, and Jigoku Luna

There was silence as my aggressive stance gave way to one of bewilderment and confusion. I let the axe’s head rest upon the ground, my hand on the pommel of the stock. The urge to lean on it in support of this turn of events was strong. A pony, a thing I have come to associate with softness and weakness, had invaded my one safe haven from their world in this dark and dangerous forest, my home.

Correction, a unicorn.

The light that I first perceived to be Dr. Manhattan’s in my revenge driven amblings had come from her workings and not of a barely contained fusion reaction in the shape of a man. Her horn was still aglow with a violet color, bathing the walls in its hue. Near her floated two pieces of flint surrounded by the same light, levitating over my fire pit where she had stacked an assortment of debris she found nearby. It was an ugly mess of drenched dead grass and twigs set in the center of shards of wood that I saw unfit to even burn. The wood showed the telltale signs of scorch marks and even a flicker of blue flame still hung onto life. It seemed the pony had attempted to use fireworks in order to start a fire; the blue light had been her tries to keep the fire aflame with strange magic.

How pathetic.

The unicorn in question, now backing up into a corner of the cave, was a bright and familiar hue of azure. Nearby on the rock that most often I sat upon in my ponderings were her scarce belongings, it even included a hat that matched her obnoxiously star splattered cape. Both looked ripped and haggard from the biting lashes of the forest’s branches and thorns.

“How dare you creature,” she called out to me, attempting to be brave, “How dare you try to sneak up upon, the GREAT AND POWERFUL TRIXIE!”

I’m torn from my silent analysis of her at the sudden outburst. She had taken her own defensive stance in the corner of the cave now. Her eyes showed fear but now had a resolve to fight, however meekly that proved to be. Fight or flight response, flight not an option. Response was throaty growl, to me a hum, but to others I’ve found it seemed to infer some primal sound akin to a dog threatening an intruder. Her stance quickly fell back into fear at the sound but her horn was still glowing violet and pointed threateningly at me. Thought crosses my mind to disable her as I had no idea what she could do with magic, I quickly temper the thought with the reminder this was a hapless unicorn pony I was dealing with and not a demi-god who was twisted up in her own hope for harmony and all-encompassing control.

“You’re in my home.” I said bluntly.

The ‘Great and Powerful’ Trixie is taken aback and her guard drops in surprise. She looks around the cave and says quietly, “Oh…”

I grumble and lean the axe against the side of the cave and enter. Trixie shoves herself further into the corner she hoped to gain protection from but tries nothing more, better for her health if the most she did was cower. I take a look around at my disturbed hovel, noticing that she had taken my stored ration of foods that I kept hidden. The glow from her horn dims when she sees what I see. Luckily it still shined for a little light, I’d rather not fumble in the pitch blackness that envelopes the interior of my home where the moon could not reach me and I doubt she wished to be alone in the dark with some horrid monster. I go to the open sack and search inside.

She’d taken and eaten everything inside.

The gathered berries and nuts, the leeks, the mushrooms. I continued to search the damage as the pony spoke with her bravado, “Despite your cave’s barbaric and primitive style your foods did well to sate Trixie’s hunger. Even if it was bland and awful, especially the dried hay bacon which tasted absolutely horrid.”

I looked at her with a mixture of absolute venom and sly amusement. I don’t want to tell her but the supposed hay bacon she ate was actually dried strips of rabbit meat that I kept. Shame, was hoping to enjoy that too. Was still surprised she ate it, must have been starving to resort to eating literally everything that I kept.

I give a harsh sigh and mutter, “You ate everything.”

“Well it was barely anything at all, you’ll just have to go out and get more, creature.” She huffed. Had sudden image of breaking her neck.

She was not making it easy to keep my temper in check. She was a pony but she was not the kind I was familiar with. She was abrasive and annoying, boastful in her speaking. About everything I could possibly hate. Hard to keep telling myself to be calm and not to do anything brash just yet.

I fell to my knees and dug out the ugly stuff she attempted to start a fire with. “Not going to get fire started this way.” I said. She didn’t respond and I didn’t look at her. I felt looking at her would be too much for me to take, would end up outright strangling her to death.

I toss the debris outside, out of the way, and retrieve the firewood I had dropped. Took a momentary glance up at the moon and felt sure that this was going to be a long night. I reentered and the pony went on her guard again. With some peat I kept on my person and my own flint I quickly got a proper fire going.

One that did not glow a disturbing shade of blue.

I sharply turn to look at her and she panics again. “You’re still in my home.” I tell her flatly.

Her guard seems to finally drop and the glow in her horn disappears, leaving the fire our only light. “I have nowhere else to go,” she says. A hint of sadness I hear? Perhaps pompous behavior defense mechanism? Still wanted to break her neck.

I stir the fire to help it burn, took moment to glance up at the ceiling to make sure the smoke flowed outside the cave’s entrance properly. “Then go to the town nearby, bother them,” I reply harshly.

“I’m not welcomed in Ponyville anymore.” she says, disheartened.

The unusual statement makes me stop my tendings to the fire to look at her again. Was a surprise to hear that those ponies had the backbone to banish others, perhaps even into the hostile forest it seemed. Good for them. “Why?” I ask.

A flash of sadness crosses her eyes but is quickly hidden by a determine look, “Because they do not see the power that the GREAT AND POWERFUL TRIXIE commands!”

And it seems I’ve opened up a floodgate.

“That upstart unicorn, Twilight Sparkle, had the nerve to embarrass me! Trixe! In front of the town by stopping the Ursa Minor, seeing as I had performed all day that day I was… too tired to stop it.” Her voice dropped a few pitches and took the tone of sadness, “To add injury to my insult all my worldly belongings were destroyed; My wagon, my clothes, everything. And it’s all that Twilight Sparkle’s fault!”

By now was only half-listening. I highly doubted that annoying librarian could do such a thing. But then again you never thought she could be one to deceive you, a voice in the back of my mind replied. I stop and stare into the fire, it was true. Twilight had tricked me and potentially would have caused my death. Being sorry did not change that fact and in her adoration for her Princess she would have still done it again. Was it such a far leap that she would exile another pony? Even destroy her home in the process?

Hard to tell, would need to look into the matter.

Still left the matter of what to do with Trixie. She was annoying, boastful, and arrogant I could see why she wouldn’t exactly fit in with a town like Ponyville. Her voice gave me a throbbing headache and if she continued to shout her name I would have to hit her over the head to stop that. All reasoning pointed to kicking her out, sending her on her way. Let her contend with the forest on her own again while I repair the damage she had caused.

Yet.

She had nowhere else to go, the woods were dangerous at night and until I could pass judgment, she was a pony, had to assume she was as innocent as any other, even with her more obvious flaws. For a human that meant very little, yet a pony… perhaps right to presume innocence before guilt in this backwards place. She was starving too; I could see the shadow of her ribs from under her coat. As much as I hated the thought I couldn’t turn her away yet.

I scowl and stand back up. She’s startled and looks at me with apprehension. “Deep in forest. How did you find me?” I ask accusingly, as if she had been planning to invade my home. It was hard to tell in this foreign place, she might very well be a shunned pariah or a punished criminal, even so my mind decides to try and irrationalize my thoughts into convincing myself she could stay.

Trixie scrapes at the ground with a hoof, “Well… umm…” she falls silent and I resist the urge to tell her to get out. “I was just searching for food is all. Times have been hard for me since I lost my home. Trixie’s show is not so well received now in towns. I was being chased by a pack of Timberwolves when I stumbled into the grove here. The moment I did the wolves ran away like something had spooked them. I found this cave and thought it was abandoned. I mean what pony would live in a cave?”

I ignore the possible insulting implications of what she meant. More fascinated with mention of Timberwolves, seems even if they were animals they knew enough to keep out of my territory. Worked to this pony’s advantage, if her story was true.

“You’re not going to force me to go back into that forest are you?” she asks me, I could hear the hint of fear in her voice behind her false bluster.

Can’t help but give the idea more thought now. Perhaps more to keep her on edge, I take a wicked satisfaction in seeing her hollow confidence fleet away to make way for begging. Sooner than I first planned the silence to be I shake my head, “No. Not yet.”

Trixie smiled and sticks her nose up to the air, “Good! Then you’ll have the honor of having Trixie’s presence in your cave, monster.” I give a harsh sigh and looked back to my missing food rations. In the morning I’ll have to see about getting more food.

I point to her, “Stay on that end of the cave. Don’t need pestering things bothering my belongings further. Touch nothing.”

“Why in this world would Trixie actually want to touch any of your filthy belongings? Just be glad you had food or else Trixie wouldn’t even tolerate your presence!” She huffed as she started to make herself comfortable. Seems she’s already forgotten who this cave belonged to and who was more willing to kill the other.

I sit down on the dirt ground and growl, “Watch your tone with me girl, only barely will I tolerate your presence. Besides, haven’t decided yet if I’ll just use you as food for replacement of the things you ate.”

The color in her coat drains a bit, giving me a scrutinizing and yet furtive look. She can’t decide if I am being serious or not. Now to see if she’ll take her chance and stay, that is if she is desperate enough for shelter.

Somehow even with her anxiety of me she manages to fall into a fitful slumber. Instinctively she moves closer to the fire, perhaps the only true warmth she has had for a while. I know the difficulties the forest gives in even that most basic of things.

I’ve since kept myself awake, the urge to sleep had long since passed me and I am left with a hollow feeling. I toss more wood into the fire to keep it strong, for her sake rather than mine. From how she looked she needed the small comfort. It is in our dreams where we are most vulnerable. Every little doubt is scrutinized by the subconscious and relayed into hazy visions and confusing scenes. I can hear her whimpers, twitches, and melancholy moans while she slept. I can’t help but wonder if I am the same when I sleep.

I have never slept well, I can never recall a time where I have truly slept without worry or concern. I’ve never slept in a bed that was not moth eaten and infested with bed bugs. Ever since the Keene Act, the law banning all vigilantes, was passed I did not allow myself the luxury of deep sleep. Always have escapes planned out, sleep with one eye open. Vigilance has helped me more than enough times to justify being light sleeper. Even in my childhood I can’t recall any deep slumber, always I was awaked by the filthy moans of my mother gyrating herself against another unlucky bastard who had five dollars to spend and fifteen minutes to spare, most left two minutes. I lost count of the times I laid there in bed wondering if the sounds were all part of a fevered dream and through a moldy plaster wall.

I sat there, watching her sleep, with my mind lost to wandering. What is this weak thing that has found itself in my cave? Why was she here? Her story still echoes in the annals of my memory but lies can come so easily to the desperate. In the morning I will go to confirm her story after I have found food.

I close my eyes, hoping that my own sleep will find me. I am tired of thinking. I am tired of these unanswered questions that plague me. Exhausted of the liars that cross my path and this place of skin deep deceptions, a world where I am lost and without purpose.

My mind slows down and I feel myself slip into slumber. I am only vaguely aware of the familiar ringing in my ears that calls to me.

Kill her and be done with it.

Trixie laid upon the makeshift bed, basking in the early morning calmness, a content smile on her lips. The azure unicorn had woken up to find that she was by herself again. She wandered around the gravel grove and even trekked down to the river to get water, she found no sign of the monster from last night. She was relieved of course but now she was alone again, that loathsome loneliness that had plagued Trixie since she lost her wagon and her home. She gave a sigh and went back to the cave to see where it was that she had walked in to.

The night before was dark and she had been at wit’s end, all she knew at the time was it was dry and safe. Looking at it now she was surprised to find it was comfortable. That monster had taken pains in making the cave more of a home rather than an indention in the mountain. The ground was sandy, kept warm by the well-used center fire pit. On the far wall wooden planks were shaped into shelves that held different assortment of jars, bundles, and bags. She sat down in what could be considered a seat; the monster had taken the time to grind down painful or uncomfortable grooves until the rock was smooth to the touch. The bed was just rock with soft hay over it and a blanket laid over it for comfort, Trixie was still surprised that the monster had allowed her to sleep there while it took the dirt ground. Still to her the monster seemed almost as perturbed by her presence as she was with it.

Lying down on the soft bed she listened to the birds outside and tried to relax. She quickly fell asleep with a smile on her face.

That was until she was rudely awoken by a loud thump on the sandy round before her.

Trixie woke up to find herself staring into the blank clouded eyes of a dead hog. The unicorn screamed and jumped back, she was keenly aware now of her heart pounding in her chest. She looked up to see the monster standing over the hog’s body, tossing one of its spears into the pile, careful to miss several green stained ones. Taking a knife out he dragged the body closer to the smooth rock seat and sat down.

------------------------------------------------

“What in Celestia’s name are you doing?!” Trixie cried out.

I roll my eyes at the statement; obviously I was out getting the food needed to replace the things she had stolen. “Boar needs to be gutted and skinned. Remember I still need food?” I say to her. She’s still too busy eyeing the ugly dead boar at my feet but I believe she heard me. I take the knife and prepared to cut the hide off the hog to get to the flesh underneath.

“Might want to step outside for a bit,” I tell her when I find she still hasn’t moved from where she clung against the wall in sheer terror.

“But the boar is in the way!” she cried out shrilly

“Then step over it. Not dangerous now that it’s dead if that is what you’re worried about.” I reply. I can tell my style of deadpan was lost upon her.

Trixie bites at her lower lip until finally she lets go of the wall. Readying herself she pounces off the hay bed, over the hog, to land at the cave’s entrance. She doesn’t give a backwards glance to the corpse, still too frightened to look at it. She starts to walk away but stops when I toss her a cloth bag. “Barley, berries, and tulips. Not much but better than nothing.” I say. She doesn’t turn around but mumbles a thank you through her gritted teeth. I chuckle at her hostility; at least the rude awakening got her away from me and in a similar mood as mine.

She wasn’t going to be happy when she got back though. I was going to need to hang this body up to drain of blood outside the cave.

Or maybe I’ll just move it out of her view.

The process of cleaning a corpse was time consuming; I had to be careful with how I went about gutting something this size. I’ve eaten rats before and cleaned their corpses, same process for a boar but on a much bigger scale. I’d also be keeping some of the organs, no sense in letting those go to waste if they are safe to eat.

Still slightly upset, this boar was nothing in size compared to the one that Pinkie Pie scared off. One of these days I’ll find that one and drive a knife into its neck. For now would make do with this smaller one, wouldn’t know what to do with anything larger yet.

“I’m done, you can come back in now,” I shout out of the cave as I clean off my hands of the blood. For the pony’s sake I hung the body up out of view though she wouldn’t come near the grove until I got rid of the blood trail and cleaned off the blood from my coat and arms.

“No!” she cried out, “Until you clean out that awful smell Trixie will not step foot in there!”

And yet she refused to go away. I sigh and toss down the ruined rag. Picking up my cleaned coat I put it on and step out of the cave. “Hey? Where are you going?” Trixie asked with a hint of worry in her voice.

“To get mint, you annoying thing,” I say to her. I didn’t turn to see her reaction; I already know my comment likely stung. I cared little for her feelings, she should just be glad I’m doing at least this much for her. Besides, I had to see someone to confirm her story after I got mint to hide the smell of blood. I knew who to turn to as well.

I would go to the yellow pegasus that made her home at the side of the woods. She will know what to do.

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Fluttershy hummed happily to herself as she worked despite the labor of her task at hand. One of the flamingos she took care of had decided to try and stand on top of her cottage’s roof with the rooster that woke her with the morning. The flailing the pink bird made trying to keep its balance on the slippery shingles removed some of them from their place and scratched up the roof. The result was a gaping mark in her roof covered in pink feathers. Now with the pink feathers cleaned away it was still a gaping maw of missing roofing that needed fixing.

After buying some new shingles earlier that morning she has been hard at work fixing it. For now it was just placing each piece back into place, later on she’d have to nail them in to keep them from falling off again but the canary pegasus wanted to get them all on before she went about making their places permanent. That and hammering nails made her nervous, it was loud and tiring to carefully hammer each pointed piece of metal into place. The shy pegasus figured though that she’d ask if Big Macintosh would help her, he always liked helping other ponies by fixing broken things.

With her spirits high and the gaping hole in her roof gone she settled back down to the ground to look up at the finished product. It was like it had never been damaged at all. Maybe she didn’t even need to nail it into place? She beamed at her grand finished work, glad to have the chore done before any trouble could come of it.

“Hey again, Fluttercry!” a voice mockingly called out from behind her.

Fluttershy’s spirits fell, the beaming smile she had turned downward into a frown. She slowly turned around, trying to hide behind her pink mane. There standing behind her were the two bullies that had pestered her since she was a little filly. “Oh… Hello… again…” Fluttershy softly said, “Umm… if it’s… alright with you two… could you leave me alone?… I mean if that’s okay.”

The response she got were two hearty and resounding laughs from the two colts. Fluttershy wanted nothing more than to disappear right this moment. For the longest time these two have taken every moment they could to make fun of her and call her names simply because she was so shy and easily offended. She knew this time would be no different and like every other time she’d end up crying because they wouldn’t stop.

“Oh that’s a good one, Fluttercry!” The brown one said. Leaning in towards her he leered and went on, “But I think we’ll stay, I mean ‘ummm if that’s okay with you’!” He and his wingman instantly burst into a fit of laughter at his own poor impersonation of Fluttershy while the young filly started to tear up. She tried to mentally prepare for the insults and threats to her pets that were soon to come, that was one of their favorites since it got to her so hard. She had thought about fighting back but was afraid of the repercussions or worse, she didn’t want to have to resort to using The Stare to get them away. She was just glad Angel wasn’t here; Fluttershy wasn’t sure what she would do if he got hurt. Or possibly what he’d do to them.

She shrunk away from the two, avoiding their gaze as they laughed it up, until suddenly her demeanor changed entirely. “Oh…. Oh dear. Please you two, please stop… umm if that’s okay… but you’re going to really really regret it if you don’t stop.”

“What’s that? Is Fluttercry actually standing up to us? How pathetic,” the brown one sneered.

“No please, you don’t understand…. I mean you really don’t want to make fun of me right now.” Fluttershy stammered with some urgency.

“No one threatens us, especially not some weak little pegasus like you that’s afraid of heights and can barely fly!” The other pegasus colt angrily said.

Both took a step forward.

They stopped when a shadow was cast over the two of them. Even the forest around them seemed to hold its breath.

Fluttershy backed away and spoke in her soft sweet voice, “Oh dear…umm… please don’t hurt them too badly Rorschach… Please?”

The color drains from the two colts as the sound of cracking knuckles cuts through the silence like a peel of thunder. The sound is soon followed by a voice like the grinding of stones.

“Promise to use an open hand. Had stitching done so will need to hold back.”

I’m sitting in Fluttershy’s cottage, listening to the steady sounds of the two bruised fools fixing the roof. Don’t usually care to discipline teenagers but I take a satisfaction in the fact that I have set them on the right path again. All they really needed was to be slapped around some to get their senses back. Perhaps went a little too far though, the brown one’s eyes still haven’t corrected themselves. I could tell they were still crooked by the amount of times he’s needed to take out a nail and fix it again properly and the number of times someone has cried out after hitting themselves with a hammer. At least this will be a lesson neither one of them would forget anytime soon.

Fluttershy, in her infinite kindness and ability to forgive, gave them both packs of ice to help ease the pain of the bruises they got. Odd but I didn’t question it; I’ve at this point come to expect such strange backward things from these ponies. Only now were we given a chance to talk.

Fluttershy returned from the kitchen, balancing a tray of tea in her mouth with experienced grace. Placing it down on the table before us she sits down in her overstuffed chair. She smiles at me, a heart warming one that makes me shift uneasily in my seat upon her couch. She pours herself some tea and offers some to me, I refuse. I’m already eyeing the cubes of sugar on the tray. She tries to hide behind her pink mane (that annoying thing that I wish she wouldn’t do) and says softly, “Um... thank you for helping me back there. Even though I wish you hadn’t been so rough on them, I mean they were mean but I don’t like seeing anypony in pain.”

“Bruises heal easily. Won’t look pretty and leave you sore but they’ll go away quickly. Sometimes best lessons are through pain. From experience, felt bruises would let them know they were wrong.” I say to her, trying to keep my hands clasped together.

“Oh…. Well… I guess…” she says indecisively. “So what brings you here? I mean… not that I’m unhappy to see you…. Just…. Um… please don’t get upset but you don’t…. seem the type to make friendly visits.”

I tilt my head, here I thought every time I visited was friendly, but then again they did not know what the usual meaning is to seeing me. I do know what she really meant though. I give a strangled sigh, finally giving into my temptation. Reaching down I pluck one of the cubes of sugar from the bowl. Moving my mask I threw it into my waiting mouth and quickly pulled my mask back into place again.

It was Fluttershy’s turn to look at me strangely. I shift uneasily and speak hesitantly, “I… have a weakness for sugar cubes.”

She giggles and says, “Oh, that’s alright. I do the same thing sometimes too.”

I nodded and after a second even smirked. Gaining my composure again I speak, “Reason I came was because I have a visitor. Calls herself the ‘Great and Powerful’ Trixie.”

Fluttershy’s eyes widen, “Oh Trixie? I know her. She isn’t hurt or anything is she?”

“Tired and anxious, but not harmed. Said she was banished from Ponyville.”

Fluttershy frowned, “Banished? She wasn’t banished. I mean there was the incident with the Ursa Minor but nopony blames her for that.”

“She seems to think otherwise.” I reply as I take another cube of sugar, “Cited some conflict she had with Twilight Sparkle.”

Fluttershy thinks for a moment before she answered, “Well if I recall she came into Ponyville with a magical act. She was very boisterous and arrogant which a lot of ponies didn’t really like. Later on with the Ursa Minor Twilight was the one who saved the town and sent it on its way.”

“Hurm, same story she told me. More embellishment on herself though. Doesn’t explain grudge she has.” I say, slightly lost in my own ponderings now.

“Maybe it’s all a misunderstanding? Maybe if Trixie just talked to Twilight she wouldn’t think she isn’t welcome in Ponyville.” The pegasus suggests.

“Doubt it would be that simple. Dealt with kind like her. Arrogant. Feel need to be justified.” I grab another sugar cube, “She doesn’t seem inclined to go back into town any time soon.”

“Oh… that’s a shame,” Fluttershy said, genuine concern and worry in her voice.

“Is she dangerous?” I ask her.

She shakes her head vigorously, “Oh, not at all! She’s just… umm… a little... Well a little loud is all.”

“Thought so. One less thing to worry about.” I say and lean back in the couch, trying my best to ignore the bunny glaring at me. How I wish I could eat that little monster.

“Well I’m at least glad to hear she’s safe and not lost somewhere in the Everfree Forest.” Fluttershy said.

“Safe isn’t best sometimes. Would rather she find another place to go.” I tell her.

“Well it sounds like she’s having trouble trusting other ponies. Just like you not so long ago.” Fluttershy said. I look at her, not liking where this was going. “Maybe if you can convince her she should come back to Ponyville we can help her and get her out of your mane?”

“I…. suppose so.” I say. It was the best idea I’ve gotten so far, better than just leaving her out in the woods. I reach down to take another sugar cube but find my hand strike the bottom of the bowl.

Fluttershy giggles, “Sorry, looks like I’ve run out of sugar cubes. You might want to cut back some on those, those can’t be healthy for… umm… well for your age.”

“Mhm,” I huffed and stood up. Adjusting my coat I nod to her, “I’ll take your advice. Talk to her. Thank you for your time.” I walk over to the door and open it but stop. “If those two bother you again… try to be more assertive, won’t be helping you a second time.”

Gently I close the door and head down the path. I stop when I hear the lull in the hammering upon the roof. I turn sharply on my heels to glare at the two, setting them back into frantic motion.

Feels good to inspire fear again.

[Happy St. Patrick's Day everypony/body/thing! -Ex-Nihilos]

Side Story: Meeting Fate Weaver (By Imperius)

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One of my favorite authors, and my editor, Imperius made this and I just felt the absolute need to share it. For anyone who hasn't read Ravenspire go read it now, it is definitely worth the read for the avid Warhammer fan. Or if you're a fan of witty chaotic fellows, if that's your thing. If you, my dear readers, have your own ideas of Rorschach meeting other OC's or your own interpretation of him reacting to events I haven't touched upon send it to me! If I like it I might post it as a side story here!

Order and Chaos

By Imperius

Walked through forest, idly hoped Applejack was right about directions. Had been walking for better part of day and still did not feel like I was getting closer. I look up through trees, catch brief glimpse of tower in distance, not much further now.

Finally broke through forest into massive clearing of fallow land. In middle of clearing sits the tower, just as Applejack said. Tower is massive, black, pair of wings at top, this was it. Wonder briefly how to get inside. Scale side? No, sides were smooth, as if tower was carved from single piece of rock, no windows either.

Walk around tower for a while, finally find entrance. No idea how to go about opening it though. Remembered Applejack's words, if what she said was true then he already knew I was here. For lack of better idea, I approach the doors. As I draw near a loud rumbling sounds from tower and doors begin to open. Pony was right, he knew I was here.

I enter through front and find six separate staircases leading off throughout the tower. Before I can pick one, a torch flares to life above one. I pick that one. Climb stairs for what feels like hours, no way tower was really this high. Staircase finally ends and leads into a large hall, far too large. Dimly recall pony's words about impossible architecture. Follow hallway to the end, faced with final door. I approach it and hear what sounds like someone counting on the other side. Once again door opens before I reach it, was beginning to irritate me.

Enter room and walk into what can only be some kind of M.C. Escher painting. Impossible maze of books and stairs, doors and what look like telephone booths. Room is lit by hundreds of floating torches, room looks like it goes on for miles. Finally gaze is drawn to a rather unimpressive man leaning against a nearby bookcase. Mid to late twenties, but leans on a staff as though hunched under the weight of years. Messy black hair, midnight blue robe, ice blue eyes, pale skin. In right hand he holds a staff, in left a glass of chocolate milk. Appearance makes me think of a crow or other carrion bird.

"And enter." he says, chuckling to himself. "I still got it."

"You are Fate Weaver?" I ask him.

He chuckles again. "No, I am not. I haven't been for several years. My name is Kairos. And if I'm not mistaken you are Rorschach."

I nod in response.

"So, what brings you to my humble library?" he asks, taking a sip from his drink. "From what I have heard about you I can only assume you're here to enact some manner of punishment upon me for the stories I'm sure you've heard?"

I shake my head. "Not my concern. Heard you opposed tyrannical princess, came to find an ally."

"Ah, you've got something of a bee in your bonnet about her haven't you? Unfortunately you came here in vain, I've long since given up any grudge I've held towards her."

I stay silent. He sighs.

"The likes of us should not meddle in this world. Our time is long past." he says.

"How did you get here?" I ask him. "Did the indestructible man send you here too?"

"Unlike you I am not a foreigner to this world, though these days I certainly do feel like one. No, Equestria is where I was born." he explains.

"So humans do exist here?" I ask him.

"They did, once." he says, wistfully.

"What happened to them?"

"Much the same as what I'm sure will happen to your world." he replies.

"Dead?" I ask.

"Very." he says. I feel a pang of disappointment.

"What were they like? How did they die? Why are you still alive?"

"Well they were just like the humans from your world." he says. "Except we had the courtesy to not proclaim to be virtuous while we took the world to pieces around us."

I nod, he was right.

"All humans are the same, world to world, some just go about it differently. We knew what we were, a pox, a plague, a cancer upon the world, and we reveled in it. We knew our faults and we celebrated them, for why would one not take joy in what defines them? Mankind is orderless anarchy and that is how we lived. Eventually our chaotic nature gave birth to the Gods of Chaos, whom we worshipped as the paragons of our anarchistic ways. But eventually the Gods of Chaos did what they did best and we were consumed in the fire of our own making."

"They deserved it." I state. The man looked at me funny for a moment.

"I agree. And if you'd asked any one of the humans from that time you would be hard pressed to find one who disagreed." he said, taking a draught of his drink.

"If man is dead why do you live?" I ask.

"Oh, well I was an immortal daemon prince of the winning god at the time." he said as though commenting on the weather.

"Ah." I say. "So if your god won why is he dead too?"

"Funny story, that." the librarian replies. "Mine was the god of scheming, betrayal, and deceit. When everyone else was dead there was no one for him to scheme against, deceive, or betray, and he ceased to exist once he was without purpose."

"Fate is not without irony." I say.

"Speaking of which, I'm sure the irony of a utopia born from humanity's destruction is not lost upon you." he remarks.

"Not at all." I reply. "Utopia can exist, so long as there are no humans to ruin it."

"How are you faring in this world?" he inquires.

"I survive. Have a small cave in the forest. Kill the predators in spare time." I explain.

"You hate them." It was not a question.

I nod. "They are soft, weak, naive. They have no idea what hardship is like."

He sighs and shakes his head. "Because they can afford to be. This is a utopia, why should they need to know of hardships. Just because humanity is doomed to death does not mean they should suffer with us."

"It is a dictatorship. They have no free will." I persist.

"Yet they are happy."

"It is not fair."

"An old friend of mine once said 'What does it matter if it's not fair as long as it's fun?' There is some truth to it, they are happy, they are content." the librarian explains.

"It's not real, their lives are lies."

"You hate it because it is order. These creatures crave order, it is their way. We despise it, humanity is inherently chaotic, we cannot stand to be bound in such a manner."

"Why do you allow it?" I ask. "Why do you let her tyranny stand? Has she taken your will too?"

"My will is as free and chaotic as ever. I may be the last son of Chaos, but I will sow my Chaos in service to Harmony. It is by my own choice, I will never be bound."

"So says the slave to the free man." I reply.

He takes a step forward and locks his gaze with mine, eyes easily finding mine, even through my face.

"And what does it mean to be free? Even now, you, an agent of order, are still a slave to the Chaos within your heart. You rebel and lash out against the order of this world simply because there is no other conflict for you to strive against. Is that freedom? To endlessly struggle with no hope of winning?

"There is no release from the Chaos, not for the likes of us. We are humans and as such are doomed to our fate. But while we can never escape it, we can still compromise. To put the Chaos within us in service to Harmony, it is the best we can hope for."

I growl. "Never compromise, even in the face of Armageddon."

"And what will you do?" he asks. "Take it from one who has been down that path before. Do not make an enemy of the princess. Do not spurn her friendship."

"Why would I want to be friends with that false princess?"

"Because there is much she can teach you. There is much they can all teach you. Do not push them away, do not hate them for their softness. Instead envy them for it, for they can live in a world where they can afford to be soft. We had no such luxury, our worlds were grim and dark, and they are both dead. Maybe yours yet lives, but in truth it is dead, it has been dead since it was born. And it is with good reason they died.

"A world built upon the foundations of chaos could never survive, only through Harmony can there be hope. So do not push them away, let them in, let them help you. They will not succeed, but they can at least help."

I think on what he said. I do not respond.

"Go back to your cave, rest and think. Then make your choice. Will you allow the Chaos in your heart to rule you, or will you be its master instead and accept their friendship?"

I nod to him and turn to leave.

"Wait." he says. I turn back to him and he holds out a glass of hot chocolate. I can smell it, it's warm Ovaltine. It smells like a cold winter night, wrapped up in a blanket, sitting comfortably by a roaring fire with family. I take the proffered drink, it's as though everyone in this world knows of weakness for idealistic American staples.

Without another word I take my leave, gingerly sipping the steaming drink all the way back down through the tower. It tastes good.

Kairos stared at the empty doorway for some time. He was soon interrupted by the soft clopping of hooves coming out from the maze of books.

"Hello, Kairos." a familiar voice says.

"Hello Celestia." he replies. "How are you this fine day?"

"Well, anxious, but well. How about you?"

"Very well." he replies. "I just had a very engaging conversation with a very nice young lad."

Celestia stiffens.

"A friend of yours, if I do recall. A nice boy by the name of Rorschach?"

"He was here?" she asked, her voice nervous.

"He was indeed, but I gave him a good talking to. Don't you worry your pretty little head, my dear."

"What was your opinion of him?" she asked.

"Honestly?" he sighed. "He's beyond redemption. He's set in his ways and nothing you do will change it."

Celestia looked worried. "What should I do?"

"Be his friend. He'll never come all the way around, but with a few friends he should change for the better. If you managed to change me then I'm sure he'll be a walk in the park."

Celestia grinned and nuzzled her old teacher's shoulder. "So you're saying I should just hit him with the Elements of Harmony?" she said with a laugh.

"Maybe not that. But a little kindness goes a long way. Even with monsters like us."

"Oh you were never a monster." Celestia insisted.

"Except for that time that I was." Kairos replied. "I think you should go talk to him again. And this time be nice."

"I was never anything but!" she said, indignantly.

"Well then be nicer."

"Yes daddy." Celestia droned.

"You kids play nice now, I don't want to have to come out of this tower," he chuckled.

"Alright, I'll go talk to him." she said. "Goodbye Weaver."

Kairos shook his head at the pet name. "Goodbye Celestia, visit me again soon."

With that, Celestia teleported away and Kairos was once again left to his books.

"I wonder how I'd look with a hat like his." he mused.

(12) Putting Down a Friend

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Chapter 12: Putting Down a Friend

Edited by Imperius

Kindness.

That word feels foreign to me. Know its meaning obviously, yet doesn’t feel like I truly know it. Not many deserve it, very few. Trixie didn’t deserve it, if she did, still wouldn’t give it. Yellow pegasus suggested getting her back to Ponyville, kindness would not be necessary. Lack of kindness would be better. Would make her leave sooner. Walking through the forest calmness helps me think. Wasn’t sure on course of action, something that unsettled me. Had always been sure in deeds and worked with unfaltering certainty. Things always were black and white, right or wrong, righteous or sinful. It wasn’t the same here. Different approach to pastel colored ponies needed. Where to even start, I had no idea.

I took my time getting back to the willow tree that marked the turn back to my home. I felt no rush to be anywhere. Same as it has been for weeks now. Still lost essentially in the mass of green chaos that reminded me very little of the sinful concrete jungle that I stalked. I wonder if they’ve rebuilt yet from the disaster that befell them. It’ll just be the same as before, a new face perhaps but the same sickening soul underneath. They’ve just made more gutters for the blood to refill, and I wasn’t there to stem the tide. New villains would step in to fill the shoes of the old and new scum with form beneath the soles of the city.

I knew if I found a way back to New York City it would be the same as it always was. Why doesn’t that satisfy me as it should? Perhaps it’s the realization that I truly don’t have much time left to my life, or it might have something to do with a girl that sits on a red swing set making flower tiaras.

“-and of course Trixie didn’t even balk at the number of Timber Wolves! Scores of them were sent running by the awesome power of the Great and Powerful Trixie! Tails between their legs and fire at their backs!” the azure unicorn exclaimed loudly, continuing her story to me as I try again to twine rope into a knot. She thinks I’m still listening, that behind my face is an expression of rapt attention. It was getting progressively harder to tune out her loud and obnoxious voice.

I’ve had to deal with the incessant talking of ponies; they were a long winded group of creatures with the tendency to add as much emotion as they could into their stories. Applejack especially liked to talk, in most cases about her family and stories about her closest friends. In honest I found it enjoyable to listen to her, her joy was infectious and I found it interesting to see a different perspective. It was like looking into the other side of life that was as foreign to me as pastel talking ponies. In contrast I’ve found no such joy in listening to the Great and Powerful Trixie speak. On end, since I returned and cleaned out the cave with mint, she’s been talking. I found it easy enough to tune her out at first but I could only do so much. Her voice was like a grating of harsh copper mesh against glass. She went from one embellished story to the next, speaking without pause. Being so long alone has kept her silent, now with company she seems to be taking advantage of the unwilling listening ear. Unfortunate that it was me.

“And now that Trixie has a chance to rest and scheme Twilight Sparkle will rue the day she decided to shame Trixie!” the azure unicorn suddenly declares to the sky. The statement causes me to fumble on twining the rope. The way she said it, hoof risen to the sky like a lamentation to fate and a damnable promise to a unseen god, it reminded me of a distant memory of a younger me, near the beginning where Rorschach had just begun in the place of Walter Kovacs. A flashback to a time before the police strike, before the Keene Act was passed, and when Moloch the Mystic still ran rampant. It was after his hijacking of the Queen Elizabeth II, a luxury ocean liner docked on the East River of Manhattan. A voice cold as ice that I still remember as clear as my own name shouted out from an escaping speedboat, Moloch’s face twisted into malicious sneer to us as we were forced to watch him flee. “I shall return from this defeat and you will rue the day you stood against Moloch the Mystic!” he called out to us, several members of the Watchmen and I, who assembled to stop Moloch and his henchmen from raiding the ship and taking the passengers hostages. Nite Owl retorted in his usual fashion but what he said was lost to me now.

Six years later Moloch reappeared with the bombing of the New York Stock Exchange, killing three dozen people and injuring scores of others. It was the first declared act of terrorism against the United States of that decade and Moloch barely served any time for it. I remembered thinking how flawed our justice system had to be for letting that maniac walk.

I’m paying closer attention now. She had her back to me, hoof to her chin as she schemed. I could only imagine the evil grin upon her face, a malicious sneer like Moloch’s. Unconsciously I find myself coiling the rope around my hands until the thick rope was tight.

“Oh I already have it all planned out, monster! I can see it now, Trixie triumphantly walking through Ponyville. Fireworks across the sky as ponies stare in awe at her approach.” She said, visualizing the scene in front of her and away from me.

I shift now to listen better, I barely notice I haven’t let go of the rope around my hands.

“And when Twilight Sparkle appears I’ll overwhelm her with an attack so devastating that she’ll be brought to the ground. She’ll be helpless before me!” she cackles evilly at the thought of her dastardly deed, one that never actually happened or ever will happen.

I shift forward. Memories of the cruise liner still crawl across my mind and images of the dead at the Stock Exchange flash by like they did on the television screen. I remember scaling side of ship. Used garrote to strangle one of Moloch’s henchmen. I don’t remember if I killed him or not. I hope I did.

“And with her helpless before the Magnificent Trixie-“

My hands are reaching out, her neck looks so inviting. Wouldn’t take long. Kill her and be done with it.

“ -I’ll cover her in glue and feathers so she knows the embarrassment that Trixie has suffered!”

What…

My hands fall back to my side and the rope goes limp again. Trixie is still laughing over her supposedly devious plot. Childish, all of these ponies, to even begin to think they were capable of anything beyond a pillow fight was setting myself up to disappointment. I turn back around and toss the rope down. She hears the sound of the rope striking the ground and cocks her head around to look at me, “What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing,” I grunt. I stand up and shove hands into my pocket, “Voice is giving me a headache.” I can at least take pleasure in the scowl she gives me; at least it was quiet compared to the screeching of her voice. “Still refuse to go back to town?” I ask her.

She turns her chin to the sky insolently, “Not until I’m ready.”

I harshly retort back to her, “Figured, have someplace to be. Will be back later today. Don’t wander off too far.”

She jumps around, “Wait, you’re leaving again?” She catches the worry in her voice and huffs again, “Fine then, Trixie needs time to herself anyway without a monster hanging about.”

I grumble, dislike being called a monster, especially by such an annoying sound, but dislike speaking to her any more than I have to more than correcting her. I would rather there be peace and quiet, and since that wasn’t possible I suppose a different droning sound would be better. I already dislike my options.

“An’ apparently Fluttershy didn’t even want to be a model the entire time; she just wanted to make Rarity happy. Ah sure am glad that got settled, though it’s a shame I gotta get rid of my Fluttershy banners fer the apple stand.” Applejack happily recalled to me as she bucked the tree with her hind legs, sending a torrent of apples into the waiting buckets underneath.

Wordlessly I grabbed the nearest one and moved it onto the cart. It was the usual routine. She’d talk, I’d listen, and most often the task at hand was harvesting apples. Never cared much for attending to farm work but manual labor helped clear my mind. Helped as well to have a different sound to focus on, one that didn’t drive me to kill.

Wasn’t entirely sure even what the story she was telling me was about. Apparently Fluttershy in the span of a few days had become a famous model, not sure how it was possible. The canary colored pegasus was frightened of her own shadow, doubted she’d be able to stand the rigors of modeling. Then again never understood mentality of fashion world. Main problem was keeping secrets from one another not about her short lived fashion career (I’m glad she doesn’t talk about such superfluous things to me). For some it was a natural reaction to confrontation to lie, never turns out right in end though. Secrets always came to light. Disastrous results.

She offers to pull the cart as she usually does but I shake my head as a sign to tell her no, needed to keep myself busy, not idle. “Still ah can’t quite understand why they’d be keeping secrets from one ‘nother. Ah mean it sounds like that whole mess could’a been avoided if’n they’d just told each other what they felt sooner.” She said, thinking aloud, as she walked next to me.

I shrug, can’t pretend I fully understand it either. Gave my opinion anyway, “People pay heed to their appearances, don’t want to lose expectations others have of them. Lying, convenient way of avoiding the problem.”

“Ya sound like you’re talkin’ from experience.” she bantered back to me.

I smile, a feature that should be lost on her yet somehow I think she sees it. My mask is getting thinner each day. “Grew up in city, cities built on secrets and lies, you go digging deep enough, and you’ll find that being honest is just an appearance as well.”

“Ah didn’t get that feeling from the time ah spent in Manehattan.” She replied.

“Hurm, you told me about that, wasn’t too surprised. Was sheltered, upper class, the well-off make good excuses to ignore their fallacies. Good enough to point where even they fail to realize the fibs they tell themselves. Made sense you didn’t feel like you fit in.”

Applejack nods in understanding until she struck fully by what I said. She stopped trotting and watched me pass with a strange look, “Was that a compliment just now ya gave me?”

“An observation is all,” I reply as I pull the cart. I can see from the periphery of my eyes the grin she had. Don’t understand what need she had to be happy. Only said what I saw, should have been obvious to her as well she was inherently good. Not often I could say that in line of work, or perhaps former line of work to be exact.

Applejack goes on ahead to get the barn door open once we’ve cleared the orchards, leaving me alone to pull the cart past the fields where the farm’s cows graze. Still perturbed that cows talk here, was uncomfortable with the urge to eat them yet knowing they were intelligent enough to speak English.

Something wasn’t right in the fields though. I stop the cart and straighten my back to look over the simple wooden fence. There were no obvious signs of trouble but I could feel a certain tenseness about the distant herd that I’d liken to a crowd of onlookers who have just witnessed some horrible accident. Standing there mouths agape, not one to step in to help. I hop over the fence, leaving the cart where it was to investigate.

Instantly the cows shy away from me as I approach. They never talked to me in the rare occasion I saw them or were near them. Somehow they felt something was very off about me, animal intuition perhaps. Something in the middle of the herd though frightened them even more than me. Like human faces I can see the look of silent terror, an aghast look of unease, I expect the worst. The cows parted, not to let me pass but out of a respectful fear.

In the center there lay a cow with a pink hat on, a limp daisy springing from the side of it. A noticeable distance had been taken between the rest of the cows and this one. They seemed to be avoiding her like the plague yet still held close enough out of concern for her well-being. It was that or they were just curious. I knelt down, expecting the cow to shy away from me as they usually do. I feel unease when she doesn’t respond to my movement. Leaning over I put a hand to her forehead to get a better look at her. She struggles weakly but seems too confused to understand what was going on. The daisy cow’s dilated eyes were darting wildly around, unfocused but taking in everything it could in a silent and hysterical manner. As if she was in the grips of a tormenting fever. I take my hand away and remove my glove to be sure; placing my palm down on her damp forehead I can feel an unnaturally high heat. I move my hand down to her chin, she won’t stop trembling and I think now it isn’t because of my touch. Pulling her lip down I can see her mouth was dry with the exception of foamy white saliva that was seeped into the corner of her mouth by gravity. Dehydration, yet there is a full trough of water nearby. Taking my hand away I notice the soaking ground around her, she’s been sweating profusely and it appears the other cows have been dampening her with water and wet cloths in hopes of easing the raging fever she was suffering from.

I put my palm to the side of her chest and feel a fast and irregular heartbeat, it felt like she was in a panic and I could tell she struggled to move her tired form. It hasn’t been long since she collapsed but I assume the symptoms have been steadily getting worse up to this point. Disconcerting, the cows were quick to inform the Apple family of any one of their numbers falling ill, unless they knew something that they were keeping secret. I check the rest of her body but find nothing noteworthy. Then I checked her back hoof and saw the deep brown mark of a healed wound.

I grab her hoof and she instinctively kicks me in my kneeling knee. Painful but far weaker than any hooved animal should put up. The sign of aggression shocks me, these cows were pacifists at worst and never lashed out against anyone for any reason. I examine the old wound, likely a week old; it’s healed correctly as I can see no signs of torn tendons or broken bones yet the wound itself showed signs of being necrotic. Infection perhaps? Why keep that a secret? I trace the lines of the wound with my eyes and notice a familiar pattern to them.

I pull up my sleeve to see the bite mark of one of the timber wolves; it was near identical to the wound on the cow’s leg. Same shape, same puncture marks as my arm had. So she’d been attacked and infection set in, why keep it a secret? My musing is abruptly ended when I hear the sound of choking. I turn to the Daisy cow’s head. Her eyes were still darting madly around and she acted like she was choking. A slow mournful cry and gasp was heard through the herd. Those closest whispered amongst themselves as they took a few steps back.

Slowly my mind was putting the pieces together. A wound on her leg, a bite mark from a predatory animal. She was feverish, delirious, and I realize now what I had taken to be mad motions of her eyes I think was her attempts at pinpointing every little sound and movement that was happening around her, she was hypersensitive to everything around her. Finally she was dehydrated and seemed unable to swallow water. What little saliva she could form was foamy and drooled from the lips of her mouth.

I sigh as I pull my hand away from her hoof, letting it drop to the ground. It didn’t take a veterinarian to realize what she had. I’ve seen it before in rabid dogs that roamed the streets at night for food. I see now why the herd was keeping her a secret. They knew what was going to happen and they were terrified to see it, perhaps by keeping quiet they thought they were helping her. By the time they figured it out she was beyond helping. The inevitable end had to happen, she was suffering.

I stand back up and replace the glove to my hand before shoving them both into my pockets, again the herd parts a path for me to leave. Their attention was more on the agonized moaning of their friend dying of a fatal and frightening pestilence than me. I spot Applejack waiting by the cart looking for my whereabouts, she sees me come from the field and watches me hop the fence before asking what was wrong. I tell her one of the herd was sick and left it at that, didn’t want to tell her anything for certain before I was sure. I ask her to fetch Fluttershy to help. She leaves without question, galloping down the path in the direction of the pegasus’s cottage. I know the distance well; I have time to move the cart into the barn, and to make sure as well that axe blade kept inside was sharp.

After some time Applejack and Fluttershy return to find me at the fence again. “Mr. Rorschach, Applejack said something was wrong with one of the cows! Is one of them hurt or sick?” the pink maned pony asked, clutching a box of first aid in her hooves. I don’t answer her, she’d see for herself soon enough. I tilted my head towards the field to gesture for them to follow me. They shared a perplexed glance before they followed over the fence; they still sometimes had trouble following my cryptic ways.

After some walking on the wide green pasture I spotted the herd again. They hadn’t changed from the way before. Applejack came up beside me; she too could sense the tenseness that was in the herd. They had congregated amongst themselves into small groups of harsh whispered debates. One of them looked up and spotted the farm mare, “Oh Applejack dear, it’s terrible!” she called out. The rest of the cows looked up at the sound, once they spotted Applejack they rushed to her, all talking at once to try and frantically tell her what was wrong.

I took the chance to slip away, dragging Fluttershy with me despite her wish to help calm the cows down. I turn her towards the one cow that hadn’t rushed for Applejack’s aid and she gasped, rushing in a flash of yellow towards the fallen cow with the pink hat. The young orange mare meanwhile was trying her best to understand what was being said, but it was all she could keep them from panicking. “Girls please calm down! Everything’s gonna be alright with Fluttershy here. Now please one at a’ time tell me what the hay is going on!” Slowly the clamor died down and I, standing off to the side, could hear the faint beginnings of a story that I already deduced.

Fluttershy was at the sickly cow’s side when I stepped over, she herself looked in pain at seeing the condition the cow she repeatedly called ‘Daisy’ was in. I watched in silence as she expertly examined the cow’s injury and the symptoms she was having. I was content to let her come to the same conclusion I did until the yellow pegasus reached for the cow’s head. Daisy reacted violently, lunging at Fluttershy’s hoof as I pulled her back. I doubted Daisy could do any damage, she was too far gone, but the spittle she threw around was pure pestilence, it could be dangerous to get it in the eyes or mouth. With tears in her eyes Fluttershy looked up to me, I nod to confirm her thoughts. She stifles a sob with her hooves, the tears were running freely from her as I passively stare at the cow’s struggling form.

Applejack trotted over, away from the herd, “The girls told me what happened, apparently a Timber Wolf got into the pasture and got Daisy by the leg. They ran the wolf off but Daisy has been feeling sick ever…” her voice trails off when she sees Fluttershy silently crying and the collapsed Daisy, croaking a sickening sound trying to breathe. “Oh no…” she whispers, I can see her legs start to tremble. In an instant Fluttershy is with her, embracing her to comfort each other for a fallen friend. I stand by the side watching the cow desperately take in air. I’m focusing on where her carotid artery was and the vertebrae in her neck, not the scene of emotion next to me.

“Rabies…” Big Macintosh said quietly. He’s seated at the table with Applejack and Fluttershy while I’m standing nearby looking out the window towards the field. We’d just gotten back from the them to tell Big McIntosh the news. He was taking it much better, in my opinion, than Applejack or Fluttershy.

Applejack solemnly nodded, “Fluttershy and Rorschach agree, there ain’t anything we can do fer her now… And Daisy always was the most lively one of the herd.”

“She always had a nice thing to say to anypony passing by,” Fluttershy said quietly in response.

“She’s also Applebloom’s favorite cow,” Big Macintosh said in his deep bass voice. The statement cuts through them deep though I feel very unmoved by it.

“Should… should we tell her?” Fluttershy asked meekly, now trying to hide behind her mane after asking the question.

“Daisy is Applebloom’s friend, she should know… but she’s just so young,” Applejack said.

“What are y’all talkin’ about Daisy for?” A tiny voice asks from the kitchen doorway. We all turn to see Applebloom. She still had her school saddlebags on, she must have just now gotten back from school.

“Oh dear,” Fluttershy said teary eyed again. Even Big Macintosh’s composure seems shaken now that Applebloom was here. Applejack said nothing, she opened and closed her mouth several times to say something but each time nothing came out.

“What’s goin’ on? What’s the matter Applejack?” Applebloom asked, I could hear her voice crack at the worry that was growing in her from each of the pony’s reactions. They had weak constitutions for such things as death and pestilence.

“Your cow has rabies.”

Each head turns to me at the sound of my harsh voice. I turn around from the window to look down at Applebloom, “Your cow, Daisy, is suffering. Little help we can offer.”

She takes a shocked step back, “W-w-what?”

“Won’t need to do anything,” I turn to Applejack, “I’ll handle it.”

“Handle it? Applejack what’s he talking about?”

“Move the rest of the herd to another field. Don’t need them panicking. Rest of family as well can stay in, best you don’t see it.”

“See what?! What are you saying, Rory?!” Applebloom cried out.

For a moment I just look at her, I see an innocent child before me confronted with the single, ultimate truth that each living thing must one day come to terms with. The very fact of nature that one day, by one way or another, all life dies. Cruel she has to find out this way but she’d have to deal with the realization after the matter at hand was dealt with. Daisy couldn’t be allowed to spread it to the rest of the herd.

“Better she not suffer more than needed,” I tell her. By now no other pair of eyes is willing to look at the horrified and pained look in Applebloom’s eyes. No one but me. She deserved to know, she should have someone to blame it all upon. I look to Big Mac to see him looking at me, his face is stoic as always but behind it I can see the sadness in his eyes. I jut my head towards the door and we both walk across the kitchen to it.

“Applebloom, Ah’m so sorry,” Applejack began but before she could finish Applebloom raced out after us. Big Macintosh had broken away to gather the herd in another pasture while I went to the barn.

I came out with the axe in hand to find myself being stared down by a resolute and angry Applebloom with the yellow pegasus and orange mare trying to calm her down. She can’t hear them; she’s too focused on me.

“Ah won’t let you hurt her!” Applebloom shouted, tears glistening in her eyes. I don’t answer, it was best if she could vent it all out. “She’s just sick is all! She’ll get better! It isn’t right what you’re thinking of doin’!”

I pass by her, headed towards the fields. Applebloom chases after me while shouting as best she can while keeping up with me, “Stop! You can’t do this! It ain’t right!”

She cuts in front of me and forces me to stop; she shouts at the top of her little lungs, “If you do this Ah’ll never forgive you!” The statement hangs in the air; the other two mares stood nearby, too shocked and saddened to talk to her anymore. Even I feel a pang of something in my chest. Wish I could say I felt something else, some little indecision in what needed to be done. Confronted by this innocent foal who saw me for the monster I was I should have felt shame.

And yet I felt nothing.

Emotionally spent Applebloom sits down on the ground. Softly she begins to cry, a heart wrenching sound to the mares and even to me. It wasn’t the sound of a child denied her favorite toy or the sound of a child who has been scolded, it was deeper than that, a part of her soul crying out in sadness and anguish. Applejack and Fluttershy embrace the crying foal, tears in their eyes as well as they did their best to quell their own sadness to comfort her. I should feel something for this spectacle of sadness and emotion, and yet all I can feel is the heavy weight of the axe in my hand and the mildly uncomfortable heat of the sun.

I walk around the three crying mares and climb over the fence. My shoes hit the green grass with a soft thud with each step I take into the field.

Macintosh has already cleared the field. All around us there was nothing but green pasture and the sounds of birds singing in the nearby trees. It was a peaceful day that would go uninterrupted, heedless of the deed I was about to do.

A group of crows has gathered nearby, sensing the impending event. Watching them land I come to a slow realization that a group of crows was called a murder. A murder of crows to watch the execution.

Daisy’s eyes are no long wild in delirium, they’re focused on me. They’re focused on the axe I had in my hand. I wonder if she could even form coherent thoughts anymore, or if self-preservation was still a clear instinct in her mind. I cannot tell. She can only look at me with pleading eyes as she croaked and mooed in tormented anguish. Does she plead to take the pain away or for me not to do it?

I look up to make sure that no ponies were around; I didn’t want any of the innocent things to see the blood that would be spilt. The murder of crows would bear enough witness to the execution for they were far from innocent. They stare at me in silence, beady, black eyes glinting with expectation. There are a dozen or so of them, sitting in the cool green grass, their impatience was obvious, their message plain; kill her and be done with it.

I look back down to Daisy. She can sense the resolve in my stance and she struggles meekly on the grass. She’s trying to get up but she can’t get her hooves to the ground again. She lifts her head but it falls back to the ground from the exhaustion of dehydration. Her pink hat tumbles off; it lies on the grass by her head with the limp daisy sticking up to the sky. I ready the axe in my hand, one of the crows squawks its impatience at me.

Daisy lifts her head up again and pleadingly moos. I lift the axe head up, my arms poised to spring. She chokes on her own foamy spittle while trying to moo again.

The axe glints silver off the sun, raised to strike down not on a slab of wood but a living thing. Daisy manages to keep her head up to watch me, I can barely see my own face reflected against the gleam of the axe, the black blots formed a smile too wide for my face.

She moos a third time and was cut short as I plunge the axe downwards upon her neck. The murder of crows scatters to the sky as a blue coated figure watches from the tree line.

I made the pyre off of the pasture near the forest line. Couldn’t risk burying her, the chance of an animal feasting on her and catching the disease was too great. All things were cleansed in fire, it felt right this way and there would be a chance to bury her beneath rocks once it was done with.

I sit watching the fire burn, well aware of what lay beneath the pyramid of branches. Daisy’s pink hat is held softly in my hands; absently I feel its fabric while I watched the fire dance before my eyes. A black pillar of smoke thick with the smell of burning death was strong. It marred the sky like a burnt scar, a miasmic blackness against the deep blue of an otherwise seamless and perfect sky.

I think back to Applebloom and look of pained anger she gave. I can understand her grief, it was logical, but I couldn’t feel the same way she could. They all understood what had to be done but they shied away from it. I wonder what they would have done if I wasn’t here, if I wasn’t the one to do it. Did they have what it took to bring mercy in the form of death? Could they live with it? I was beyond such petty thoughts of guilt; it no longer occurred to me anymore what it meant to regret taking a life. Felt nothing from the act anymore. I was numb to it, the lines that defined right and wrong were so clear there couldn’t be any doubt who deserved death and who did not. There was nothing to contemplate, nothing to be guilty about.

It greatly confused me to know that they will grieve. Their friend, Daisy was her name, was dead the moment disease set in. From that point on she was no longer the Daisy they knew. She was just a mad animal. Just like any other mad animal she had to be put down before she could hurt the innocent. There was never any other alternative, no redemption from madness and no full cure for it. Mad animals can’t be helped.

Mad animals deserved to be put down.

[Sorry about the long wait, been rather busy. Hope you enjoyed this chapter and also want to officially welcome readers who came by thanks to EquestriaDaily, hope you like the story as well! -Ex Nihilos

P.S. special thanks to me mate Imperius for helping with editing and bouncing ideas, also a shout out to me mates who worked on that Crossroads project with me!

P.P.S Ghost edit, so I was thinking about asking around to see if I could get some good ole cover art or fan art besides what I got now for Rorschach in Equestria, PM with directions to point me in the right direction to get in touch with some artists or on the off chance you yourself are an artist! (I ask nothing special, no demands to be had, just want to see what creativity there potentially is out there]

(13) Lunar Meeting

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Chapter 13: Lunar Meeting

Edited by Imperius

(You probably thought this was a April fools chapter- well it's not, I'm not that kind of person. It's genuine)

“Rest in peace, Daisy, we’ll miss you.”

Applejack gently spoke to the mound of dirt that now served as a resting place for their friend. Twilight, Macintosh, Fluttershy, Applebloom, and Granny Smith stood nearby to join the small ceremony for Daisy. Behind them all was the rest of the cows waiting with respectful patience for them to finish saying their last words to her. It was a quiet spot that had been chosen, just off the edge of the pastures near the forest where the luscious green grass began to give way to a dirty forest floor. A simple wooden fence was built around the dark mound of dirt where a simple headstone was laid to show its meaning. It was a perfect spot for their friend’s final resting place, and they weren’t even the ones who picked it.

Late into the evening Rorschach returned to the farm. He didn’t say much much, there was little sign that he had done anything. He simply told Big Macintosh where he ‘did away’ with the body. Applejack had been furious at this; she expected to find her dear friend just dumped away like trash. She didn’t get a chance to take out her frustration at him though; he disappeared quickly after replacing the clean axe. When she and her friends went down to Daisy’s final resting place they were surprised at the formality of the grave. A circular fence was arranged around the large mound with the simple headstone, it was fresh cut and still bled sap.

On top of the simple headstone was Daisy’s signature hat, the same limp daisy that was always on bounced in the wind. Any anger Applejack had was replaced with a tranquil sadness at seeing the humble grave of her friend. She ran back to bring down the family to say their goodbyes. Applebloom finally relented, still angry and heart broken, but felt compelled to go to her friend for at least one last time. Not even the comfort from the ever empathetic Fluttershy could deter her mind; she still blamed Rorschach and hated him but now before the peaceful grave she could only weep and lean into the embrace of her sister as Celestia’s sun set over the horizon to cast an orange glow across the sky.

Yet, even the sun’s beauty couldn’t bring the serenity it should have. Thoughts and minds were in turmoil both at Daisy’s funeral and in the conscience of a lone man that quietly walked back into the forest, hands shoved deep into his pockets. A crowd of crows smugly watched with beady black eyes as he passed silently by. They dispersed slowly once he was gone, satisfied with what they had witnessed.

Their wings, a silent cacophony of events to come.

Strange how Trixie has been quiet since yesterday, when I returned last evening she didn’t say word to me but seemed thankful for my presence again. Interesting how she shies away whenever I approach. I’ve been thankful for the silence but now find it to be disturbing. Out of place for her. Perhaps I should just let it be, don’t question a blessing. And yet.

I sit by the fire as I usually do when nothing was left to be done, debating on whether to ask her about her silence. It’s only mid-morning and I have too much time to think. Should give the farm a wide berth for a time, grieving families shouldn’t need to deal with the executioner coming by to check up on them. They’ll recover in time but some pains may stay. Applebloom especially. I glance down at the dirt between my feet, saddens me that she was forced to be exposed to a death. At least in this way she’ll have me to blame, will let the grief go by better.

The extra time gained from not going to the farm will be difficult to fill. I hate the idleness above all else. Could just use the extra time to hunt the eels as I had originally planned, though not sure I see a point anymore to it all. Am I just fulfilling a purpose, or just a bloodlust? In the end what was there left to do? Trixie ghosting through my home, occupying her time with random tasks, especially hasn’t helped my mood or my thoughts. She’s suffering a similar boredom as I do, though her’s was not from the lacking sense of purpose as I feel. I’m not sure what unsettles her now, and oddly enough I seem to care now as she’s bothering me more than usual with her incessant loafing about.

It seemed it was time to get an answer, she was back from gathering firewood, a task she oddly volunteered herself to do. The sound of branches and pieces of wood striking the ground harshly takes my attention away from my ill thoughts. The azure unicorn huffs a sigh as she enters the cave and with her magic deposits her star studded cloak onto a rock. She leaves the new firewood by the entrance for use, though she makes no motion to actually use it yet. Her mood hasn’t changed it seems, she looks downcast and barely acknowledges my presence, usually at this point she calls me a monster or embellishes herself again. There’s a noticeable lack of either.

I sigh, I know I’ll regret asking but I feel compelled to ask, this mysterious air of depression was grating against what little nerve I had left. “What’s bothering you?” I ask her. She jumps a bit at the sound of my voice, it isn’t often I speak and so far it has only been to counter one of her annoying outbursts. Must be odd to her to hear me ask a question of worry.

She turns her nose up and speaks in her casually berating tone, “Nothing is wrong, monster. I don’t know why you would ask.” I’m not about to buy that shell of hers anymore, at this point it’s becoming useless though she seems to not realize it. For a moment there’s only the fire’s snapping between us. She’s expecting one of my quips back at her, but when curiosity gets the better of her and she turns to look at me she finds my head tilted towards her expectantly.

Trixie sighs, sadder than before and she sits by the fire, staring into its flames. Curious now I join her on the ground, watching her gaze into the fire, eyes full of melancholy. The day before I heard a reflection of Moloch the Mystic in her words, but now I see no connection ever really existed. She was proud, that was obvious by how loud she was, but if I were to compare only that trait of hers with Moloch I might as well say all car salesmen had penchants for villainy (subsequent investigation I put into potential connection only found twenty percent of all New York car salesmen took part in fraud or other illegal activities). The reminder of Moloch fades away with the genuine sadness she showed in her eyes, the light of flames dancing in her irises. Even in his final days I don’t think Moloch ever regretted anything. The only sadness he really expressed was for his own fate and not for the people he hurt. This was different. She speaks slowly and quietly to break the silence that fell between us, I have to strain to hear her over the gentle cackle of embers burning in the center of the fire, “I followed you to Sweet Apple Acres.”

“Why?” I ask her. Don’t feel angry that she followed me, an inkling in my mind suggested it was possible she would do such a thing. No, I was curious as to not why she did it but rather what she saw. More importantly if she saw my butchering.

“I didn’t want to be alone…” she quietly replied. I wasn’t sure I understood what she meant. She’d made it very known she didn’t care for my company, it was merely a convenience to her and an annoyance to me. I don’t see how following me would relieve that loneliness, not until she went back to her own kind and made peace with them. She continued on, “I thought you were a monster, something that lived in a cave that stalked out to… I’m not sure what. I saw you though, talking to that farmer.”

“Applejack,” I clarify for her absently. Was she... opening up to me? Why?

“I saw you talking to her and she regarded you as a friend. She looked up to you, I heard her tell you stories about her other friends… she looked really happy to see you....” she says quietly, I’m beginning to fit the pieces together.

I nod and finish the thought for her, “And you want the same…”

She returns the nodding gesture, I can see glimmer with the watery light of building tears. “Later on I watched you go into the field with that cow.” I frown, was afraid that she saw it but clenched my jaw shut to keep myself from speaking. I wanted to see what she had to say about it, to gauge what innocence she had.

“I couldn’t understand what was wrong and when you left I saw her. I had no idea what it was but I could see she was suffering. I didn’t know what to do so I hid in the tree line again and hoped a pony or you would return to help her… and then you came back… with the axe and I understood what you were planning to do, and what you did do. I ran away after that. I was sickened by what you did but when I tried to ask myself what else was there to do… I didn’t have an answer.”

I lean back against the rock, “I see…” my voice trails off as I try to make sense of what she was saying. Her reaction reminded me of Fluttershy’s. A helpless realization that the only choice to be made wasn’t the best one.

“Why did you do it?” she asks me.

“…She was suffering.” I simply answer as I stare into the fire with her.

From the corner of my eye I see a motion and turn to see her shaking her head slowly and solemnly, “No, why did you choose to be the one to do it, even knowing they’ll hate you now.”

I wasn’t sure how to explain to her that I didn’t care what opinion or judgment others held for me. It was likely why it came as a shock for me to know that Applejack considered me a friend. Perhaps for too long I’ve assumed the worst reaction in people, but now I was not dealing with people. Not anymore. “It had to be done.” I tell her. I turn to look at her and ask quietly, “Why not me? As you remind me, I am a monster to things like your kind.”

“That’s just it; I don’t think you’re really a monster. I’m not sure what to call you but a monster isn’t right. I don’t know what you are, I’ve seen you kill two creatures without hesitation, remorse, or even thought like any monster would. Yet moments later you’ll hide yourself entirely in silence and listen patiently as ponies talk to you. And if something like you can make friends with other ponies…”

“Why can’t you as well?” I say to finish her train of thought. She nods to me and I cannot help but sigh, she didn’t understand the harsh truth behind her actions. I can read people better than they can read themselves, every motion or facial expression, no matter how subtle, isn’t lost upon me. I could understand the psychology of any person for the sake of interrogation and how best to press them, seems the skill was going to need to serve a different purpose. If any other pony told Trixie her own faults she wouldn’t listen, they weren’t punitive enough.

“Trixie.” At the sound of her name she turns to me, the first time she’s focused on me and not the fire. She blinked a few times to try and clear the sudden change of light. Probably couldn’t see me very clearly, she only needed to listen. “You are abrasive, arrogant, and egotistical…” with each word she shudders as if she had been struck, a single tear falls from her cheek but I don’t relent. “And you do it because you’re afraid. You’re afraid to show your true self…” I tell her. She tries to look me in the eyes as I speak, the silent shock of hearing me justify her actions slowly fading away. I go on, “You’re afraid that they won’t accept you. From the stories you’ve told me you always embellish, you’re a compulsive liar.

“Yet you don’t have to be.” I say as I reach down to take one of the sticks she gathered, the closest that fell to me, to poke at the flaming embers in the center of the healthy fire. “You all confuse me, greatly. Won’t pretend to understand why but they, your kind, accept others unconditionally. Quick to trust and fast to forgive. If you would give them a chance, go to the town and make things right, they’ll accept you.”

“What if you’re wrong?” she asks me hesitantly.

A wisp of sparks is kicked up as I jab the stick into a bothersome ember that wouldn’t break to pieces. I turn to look at her and try my best to keep the gruffness in my voice down, didn’t work but counted to try. “When it comes to judging others I rarely make mistakes. I have a…. reliable source that believes you would do fine. Better than here at least, I cannot offer what you seek. I do not make friends, I prefer to be by myself than be bothered with others.”

We fall back into silence, staring into the fire. Trixie wipes away the tears that stained her cheek and stifles a sob, “Don’t you ever get bothered by the loneliness?”

I shrug. I can’t reflect the emotional fear she seemed to have of being alone; having no one to cheer for her deeds or applaud her performance. “I’ve been alone all my life, don’t see how that’s different here.” I said to her in all confidence. One of the reasons adjusting to the forest so well might be lacking the need for human interaction. Actually more calming now I had no need to deal with them.

She turns from looking at the fire to cast a scrutinizing glance in my direction, “You’ve been alone your entire life?” I nod. She grimaces, the idea of being all alone seemed to horrify her. Makes sense, being a showpony she must thrive on attention. To be left alone in the trash and in the gutter must seem an awful way to live to her. “You learn to deal with it, or some learn to deal with it,” I tell her but she doesn’t seem very convinced by it, didn’t expect her to be.

“Finally decide to go to the town yet?” I ask her as I stand up to grab my journal. It’s been ages since I’ve written any entry of worth, mostly notes and thoughts, I keep it out of habit if anything else.

Trixie shuffles out of the way, watching as I pick up the journal, “Not yet, but I suppose I’ll have to sometime soon... is that your diary?” she asks me.

“No just a journal. A record of events and thoughts… not a diary.” I say. I’m a little on edge that she’s interested in it now. Curiosity was not something I liked much. I shook my head and took up my pencil and added notes under my day’s entry.

“So does that mean I can read it?” Trixie asks me, perking up at the prospect of something interesting to read.

“No.”

“Oh… well Trixie wasn’t interested in reading it anyway, especially when you’re the one that wrote it,” she huffs. She still watches intently as I write, curious to the way I moved my hand to form letters and words onto paper without the use of magic.

“Mhm. Planning to leave yet?” I ask her.

Her bravado deflates again and she looks to the ground, “I... Trixie hadn’t really thought about what she’d even do or say. I... she doesn’t feel ready just yet to talk to anypony there.”

She turns to see me shrug, her eyes widen in surprise as what I say next, “Do so when you’re ready. Just don’t get on my nerves.”

Finding her mouth still agape she quickly shakes her head and looks at me again incredulously, “So… so I can stay? Even after calling you a monster and insulting you?”

“Hurm, reminding me why you annoy me doesn’t do well for your case. But yes, for now. Your… safety… is an extension of my duty.” Hadn’t really thought about it, but it was true that part of the reason I was killing monsters was for the safety of the nearby town and its inhabitants. Trixie was annoying, but the more I thought upon it I couldn’t see any reasons against counting her as one of the innocents I want to protect. She wasn’t the most likable… thing… but she hasn’t stolen, never killed, and most likely never broke any other laws that I know of. She didn’t warrant judgment, should be watched perhaps, but not judged.

She smiles at me, strangely enough it feels sincere and thankful. So long in the forest and homeless, to finally have someone come to offer her kindness and protection, to show that they cared. I should probably explain to her that I do not in fact care about her existence and that I found her very presence aggravating to my health. I stopped myself from saying such but I noticed I’ve been writing it down in my journal. I quickly scratch it out and put the book down. Standing up I gesture to the entrance, “Now though, you’ll be helping with the upkeep of this place. Need more water and food. You’ll be joining me to help with that.”

“WHAT?! The Great and Powerful Trixie does not work!” she shouted in outrage.

“She does if she wants a roof over her head. Out. Now.” I point outside and we glare at each other in a battle of wills. It was over from the start, the ‘Great and Powerful’ Trixie trots outside muttering what must have been strong insults for ponies under her breath. I’d heard worse walking down the street in New York, far worse.

Stepping outside with her I notice the sun had fallen from its highest point in the sky, the day was beginning to end already. Was it me or were the days getting shorter? I let the question fall from my mind as I walk out into the forest with Trixie in tow. She’s still voicing her protests but I know better than to take her at face value. I think she’s glad that I’m including her in my time now instead of just tolerating her existence, or perhaps she would rather there be someone nearby to hear her complain.

It didn’t take long to get to one of my usual spots where a patch of wild oats and barley grew. After a while Trixie finally stops arguing and begrudgingly helps carry what I’ve gathered. She watches careful how I choose and pick what to take; I remember earlier that she never understood how to survive out here. I don’t bother to explain but show her through my actions what was good and bad, my own learning from trial and error over the weeks and instinct. After a time I find I’m the one speaking and it was she who was listening.

“If you want to be ready to go to the town it would be best to learn your faults. Being overly arrogant and offensive is not the approach to take.”

Trixie tsked, “I am not! Even if Trixie was why should she take the advice of you of all things?”

“Not me, I mean others. Sometimes I’ll meet with Zecora to trade, perhaps now I’ll send you instead to talk to her. She’ll tell me how you acted. That should give you an idea of how to approach the town.” Picking up the last of the barley and oats I stand up. Shrugging I add in, “Don’t have to stop being prideful, part of who you are, just be manageable about it. You’ll have to find the right tone to it.”

“Manageable, huh?” she said, tapping a hoof to her chin. She falls silent, thinking on what I’ve said as we leave the patch for the river.

She’s still quiet after we’ve gotten to the river, sitting idly by the river bank skimming rocks against the water’s surface as I check my makeshift filters for fresh water. Dumping out the old charcoal for a new batch I chance a glance over at her. She’s staring intently at the water, more specifically her reflection in the water. I wonder what she sees in it. Moving the buckets of fresh water away from the charcoal I move over to join her. She doesn’t look up at me but I see her eyes flick over to my silhouette in the water join her own. Together we stand there contemplating our own reflections in the water.

Trixie’s reflection looked clear and defined despite the wavering currents of the water. It was obvious she was a pony, the horn atop her brow defined, and her mane shined clearly from the water. Her reflection in the river was a deeper, brighter blue compared to the rest of her surroundings. The eyes, the clear expression of stern concentration was clear against the shifting water’s surface. It was obvious who she was and clear that she was reflecting upon the image she saw.

My own comparison wasn’t much to look at. I was tall and, despite the clearness of the water, I was but a murky silhouette of tarnished brown, broken up only by the white stain of my face. Nothing seemed sharp, no clear lines to be made that separated my blur with the rest of the darkened water. I was looking down on a reflection of myself and I wasn’t sure what I saw in it. The black Rorschach, the image that defined my very being, could barely be made out against the white of my face, just an indistinct darkness, transparent and unimaginative.

“Should get back, sun is setting.” I say turning away from my silhouette in the water. Picking up the buckets of water I wait for Trixie to pick up what we gathered earlier in the day with her magic. I’m glad they glow violet, would remind me too much of another person to see the color blue levitating objects. She passes me by, headed back to the cave, I cannot help but stand for a moment to watch the sun set over the horizon. The orange colors of the sky, bleeding down into the river that gently rolled by. Colors were more vibrant here, or it might have been the lack of suffocating smog choking the sky.

I turn away to the cave and follow the violet glow in front of me back to my shelter.

Celestia’s hoofsteps echoed throughout the cold hallway, the moonlight that shined past the tall stain glassed windows lit her way through the darkened hall. The air outside howled as a cold eastern wind set in to bring winter once again on this cloudy, starless night. Lines of frost had formed along the edges of the glass, webbing across in chaotic lines into each other looking for a way to breach the glass and enter the warmer hall within. To Celestia, though the stone hallway may as well be open to the cold, she found no warmth in the cobblestone walls or the segmented red carpet that she trotted upon. The only sign of warmth and safety to be found emanated from a door left ajar down the hall. It was the third door down from the library she remembered, she always remembered. She shivered in the coldness as a howling wind rattled one of the panels in the window.

She pressed on through the darkness until she reached the warm orange glow that shined through the crack of the door. She felt a smile play upon her lips as she heard the familiar scraping of a quill upon parchment. Her hoof reached out to push the door inward, trying her best to resist the joyful urge to rush in to see him. A voice, harsh and rough like the frost that coated the windows outside stopped her and forced her to shudder back from the door.

“Have you finally lost all sense of reason, compagno? What is it that you do now?” it asked. Celestia pressed herself against the wall to try and see through the crack in the door. All she saw the immense shadow of a standing thing look down upon one that sat but could make nothing else out from the soft fiery light within.

The sound of writing didn’t stop as another calmer and smoother voice spoke, “Their banking system is archaic and problematic. I’m writing out a new, more effective tax code for them to follow. It will alleviate some problems that have been arising within their economy, especially in regards to the farmers.”

“Benissimo!” The other voice cried out in sarcasm, “What do you hope to do next, fix the laws or write out a Credo for them?”

“If the need should arise I presume. As they say after all: beati possidentes.” The other replied with a light chuckle.

Celestia jumped and stifled a surprise gasp when she heard something slam against the desk. The rough voice spoke back angrily, “You take this all in stride! Dio non voglia! Siete caduti in eresia!?”

The writing stops and there is the sound of motion, someone being shoved away, and the lighter voice speaks again, “I understand your anger, brother, but calm yourself. You only fall to the language in Rome when temper clouds your judgment. I’ll ask that you do not take my faith into question, you of all people should know I walk with Lord and have not faltered even after our departure from the natural realm. I know the Lord is still with us, the Holy Spirit is still with us. Dominus illuminatio mea. You would do well to remember that phrase for yourself.”

There is a brief silence, Celestia could only imagine the two speakers glaring at each other until the rough voice sighs, its reply is slow at first, “Amicus usque ad aras. I am your friend in all things, compagno, but when will you see this is not the kingdom that you so wish it to be. This is not the kingdom of Heaven.”

“I will not have this discussion again with you.” The smooth voice speaks harshly and quickly now, “You should remember the praises to the Lord you gave upon this place in the past instead of losing your faith now dwelling upon the Lord’s path for us. Now leave me be, we will speak of this after morning prayers. Deus tecum, brother, get some sleep.”

There was the hint of a sneer in the rough voice as it replied, “Dominus vobiscum. I hope you realize the mistake you are making, compagno.” Celestia shrunk back as the door was swung open from the inward and a massive and dark figure stepped out. It did not see her as it turned away in the other direction towards the library. The sound of its metal armor added to the echoes of its loud, rage filled gait as it swiftly reached the wooden door. Taking ahold of its metal handle the large figure swung it open and slammed it shut once it had entered.

Celestia breathed a sigh of relief that she didn’t know she had been keeping. She heard from inside the sound of writing start up again. More hesitant than before she gently opened the door all the way so she could enter. Inside next to the orange glow of a lantern she saw a familiar figure bent over the desk. The quill resting in his hand danced upon the page, breaking only to be once again dipped in ink. She entered the room quietly, hoping to not yet disturb his work so soon after yet another confrontation with his brother. She idly glanced to his scarce bed where his sword lay. The familiar emerald set into the blade’s silver hilt shined back at her. She turned away to regard the figure again. Even now so late at night he wore his armor, he once said it gave him better comfort as it reminded him of his closeness and devotion to his God. The white tabard with the large red cross across his back seemed to glow in the soft light.

The writing stopped as the man looked up and slowly turned around. He smiled softly when he saw her standing there. She felt the corner of her lips turn up in her own smile, yet now it felt more sad than happy. The man laughed softly and spoke in echoes.

“Little Soleil. You shouldn’t be up so late….”

Just as always the dream ended and Celestia woke to find herself looking up at the white marble of the ceiling. Her breathing was rapid from the intense dream. The princess closed her eyes and tried to breathe slowly to calm her quickly beating heart. This wasn’t the first time she had the dream, nor would it be the last, but knowing that out in the Everfree Forest was another human had sparked her thoughts of the past again. The emerald in the sword’s hilt was still burnt into her memory, a time before Discord had taken control of Equestria and she and her sister were still young, perhaps no older than Twilight Sparkle and her friends.

She sighed and rested her head against the pillow again. Turning to look out to her balcony she saw the stars outside twinkling. Luna had brought another beautiful spring night to Equestria. To keep her thoughts from straying again to her dream she counted the constellations she knew of. Luna had taught her a few but the names of them still eluded her. There were just so many in the sky and the subtlety of the pictures they made was amazing.

Celestia lay her head back against the pillow and slowly felt herself drift back into a more peaceful sleep that would not be plagued by nostalgic dreams. She wondered quietly what Luna was doing; she hadn’t spoken much to her about anything since she told her sister her decision about the human.

Night had fully fallen and I find myself sitting idly by the fire like any other night. My mood is strangely uplifted, the day had been better than I expected. In part it might be thanks to Trixie. She still annoyed me enough to make me want to rip off my own ears, but despite all things I find her presence more tolerable. Better than barely, but still quite low.

I glance over to her sleeping form. Since she’s arrived she’s taken over what once served as my own bed, but I don’t care. I don’t sleep well anymore. Too many memories, too many ill thoughts invade my mind in my dreams. I do not know why but I’ve wondered if it has something to do with the blinding headaches that have plagued me in the past. It’s been weeks since I last had one but I can still hear the humming sometimes. When I try to focus on it, it disappears. I don’t know what it is but it makes me uneasy. What was it that haunted the back of my thoughts?

I sit back in the silence until I choose to pull out my journal and make notes about on possible explanations for the whine. Most of it was useless; I had no tangible evidence to go on. It was still better than nothing, I’ve worked with worse though never has my investigation had anything to do with myself.

I stop when I have the unbearable feeling of being watched. I always trusted my instincts and few times has it failed me, I was being watched. I wait a few seconds and the sound of a branch breaking in the forest nearby confirms my belief. I put the journal down and turn over to face the wall of the forest, waiting for whatever it was to show itself. I can only hope it’s not a basilisk or wyvern, annoying things, those.

To my surprise it was not a monster that appeared from the forest but rather a peculiar pony. Had both wings and horn. She was a deep navy blue and her mane billowed behind her, dark black and blue dotted with twinkling stars like the night sky. She was taller than other ponies, but I got the feeling she wasn’t as tall as her sister.

“Thou art the human that hath invaded our land.” she stated, staring intently at me in an attempt to see my eyes past my face.

“Princess Luna, I presume,” I reply. I stand up and shove my hands into my pocket. Stepping out of the cave into the grove I met her halfway. Silently we regarded each other harshly. I vaguely wonder if she was here to kill me. Thoughts of Nightmare Moon cross my mind. “To what do I owe the pleasure,” I mockingly ask and abruptly she answers me.

“We… I… know what you did to the Diamond Dogs. We saw you during the night dispatch with their lives,” she coolly stated to me. She seems to be having trouble keeping her voice in check. She seems ready to start shouting at any second.

“Did you now? And?” I ask.

“Thou art a killer and my sister doth not believe us.” she stated angrily.

“Hurm, so you wish to take the matter upon yourself. So, you’re here and you’ve confronted me, now what?” I ask her.

“We would demand you to return to the vile place you came from, your kind is not welcome here.” she says and takes a step forward towards me. I don’t react, she won’t do anything. Out of respect for her sister perhaps or her own uncertainty I don’t know. Her stance though screams that she’s not about to fight me on anything above words. Such were leaders like her, perhaps not a politician but monarchy just as bad. Liars, keeping themselves in gilded cages away from the commoners.

“Not going to happen,” I say to her.

“Then we shalt force you to a dungeon for your crimes. Thou hath spilt blood, taken lives.”

“They were criminals. Those dogs deserved to be put down,” I say.

“And who are thee do pass such judgement?!” she all but yelled. “What thou hast done was murder!”

She had crossed a line. I take a menacing step towards her and she retreats a step. I jab a thumb towards myself.

“I. Am not. A murderer,” I growl dangerously. “I delivered justice. What would you have done? And for that matter, what did you ever do? I saw no guards in that town, no kind of protection besides an ignorant and complacent civilian police force. I was all that stood between them and those... dogs. Your sister came here with guards, is that how it works? The immortal god monarchs have guards to satiate their own vanity but the common citizens must fend for themselves?”

The princess went silent, had no rebuttal. Wasn’t about to let up, though. She came here to accuse me while she ignored her own guilt.

“Go home, go back to sitting in your gilded castle and lamenting your own woes. In the meantime I will protect your subjects. I will kill the predators of the forest that you allow to exist, I will bring justice to the criminals you ignore. For all your age and power you’re still just child, blind to the troubles of anyone but yourself. You want proof of my ‘crime’? North of town, two shallow graves, you will find evidence, but of your own crimes, your negligence, your carelessness.”

I turn my back to her, heading back to my cave. I pause at the entrance, felt a need to twist the knife.

“They would not have stopped with kidnapping or theft. Would have escalated, someone would have died eventually. I know criminals, I know what evil is capable of... you should know better than any.”

Don’t turn to see the effect my words have on her, don’t particularly care. Let her think what she wants, she was just another useless, self absorbed monarch. Faintly I hear the sound of wings and I know she’s gone. In the back of my mind a voice spoke.

‘Guilty, They’re all guilty,’ a voice whispers in my ear.

[Huge props out to Imperius for helping me out on the last part of the chapter with Luna, Also one of my readers I know has been stealing my socks. I know which who it is, I'm not gonna ask what you're doing with them because I can already assume. Just stop it. -Ex Nihilos]

(14) Smooth Talker

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Chapter 14: Smooth Talker

Edited by Imperius

Trixie woke up the next morning refreshed and bright eyed to find the sun fully greeting the new day. Her dreams had been happily filled with the sounds of adoring crowds, chanting her name and begging for encores to her magical performance. Sadly she couldn’t remember what exactly she’d done to earn such admiration, but the showpony didn’t care so long as she could still hear the echoes of a joyful crowd ringing in her ears.

Getting up from bed she performed a quick round of stretching to prepare her for the morning. Magic already enveloped her chosen breakfast from one of the high shelves of the cave as she hopped down from the hay bed and trotted over. She set her chosen items down easily with her magic, a sack that held a loaf of fresh wheat bread and a jar of strawberry jam. Looking around the shelves she spotted the small wooden box that held the knife she needed, knives were about the only cutlery the monster Rorschach had in his possession as he cited they were the most useful, and he refused to go out and buy, or ask, for forks and spoons. Still humming to herself she spread jam over a slice of bread with the knife. Once finished she gently set the utensil down on a nearby rock for the human to clean later, it would be too uncouth for Trixie to clean after all.

Levitated breakfast before her she stepped outside to great the new day. Birds sang in the air and insects hummed, flying through the warm morning light. She could already tell today was going to be hot. Spring was quickly turning into summer despite it still being in early May. Trixie didn’t mind, she rather liked the warm weather. It was a time where ponies were lively and there was always something to do somewhere, which was considering of course that you lived in a town. Trixie frowned sadly when that thought struck her, she still was unsure about going into Ponyville again. She wasn’t really sure what Rorschach meant by being less ‘abrasive’ or ‘stubborn’. He did say he would help her but the azure unicorn wasn’t so sure how much help someone like him could give her.

Speaking of Rorschach, Trixie thought, where is he? The pony glanced around the grove expecting to find the monster sulking about in his usual moods. As of late he hadn’t been in the best of spirits, which was saying something for a being who seemed perpetually in a state of unrest and contempt. He did have a tendency to disappear for a time, usually it was to hunt some creature he deemed too dangerous to live, but always, as far as the unicorn knew, he was there in the morning to say so before he left.

She told herself that she should be glad for the peace and quiet, to have some alone time that didn’t include a strange creature skulking around grumbling nonsense. Yet, she didn’t like to be alone and even the monster’s company was better than being unaccompanied again. She sighed and finished off her simple breakfast. Trotting around the edge of the grove she tried to spot the familiar white face of Rorschach perhaps wandering about the forest’s edge checking is his invisible perimeter that he seemed to keep. All she could see though was the forest around her with no sign of the monster around. Still unwilling to give up her search for her reluctant friend (acquaintance?) she trotted down to the river expecting him to be reeling in nasty smelling fish for himself to eat, it was bad enough with the boar but Trixie just couldn’t stand the fish. When she reached the river finally she found to her mild surprise that Rorschach wasn’t there.

A growing urgency of worry started to grow in Trixie’s mind. She scanned the surrounding forest as she walked, the sad frown still on her lips and refusing to fade. She reached the cave without spotting anything that might even tell where he had gone. To her silent disappointment it seemed Rorschach had disappeared without a trace, this time without even a word of when he’d be back.

Trixie’s hoofsteps resounded against the cave walls as she stepped back into its cool embrace. Sitting by the dead fire she used her magic to take one of the pieces of charcoal. Absently she colored in a space of white ash in the fire pit’s center. The day had only started and the usually boisterous pony was bored. The one thing that was keeping her occupied was quickly colored in as the ash spot on the rock disappeared under the grating strokes of the charcoal. With the offending mark gone Trixie placed the blackened piece of carbon back down with the soot.

By chance her eyes flicked towards the smooth rock that Rorschach usually sat on when he often wished to brood. She spotted a familiar looking book laying on its surface. Reaching out with her magic she grasped the book in a violet glow and pulled it closer for her to read. The cover was simple, made of leather and bound by a tough binding. She could see the paper inside was a tannish color, the first half of the book was unkempt and disturbed with the signs of being harshly written upon.

Rorschach had specifically told her that his journal was not something to be looked at but the temptation of it just sitting there begging to be read seemed too much. Perhaps a quick peek wouldn’t hurt? But then again the idea of betraying his trust wasn’t a fond thought. Still, it wasn’t like it was his diary that she’d be reading. He had said so himself that it was a journal, more impersonal and filled with notes of his time and thoughts. It couldn’t hurt to see how his mind work, it also held the potential of giving Trixie clues to where he came from and what he was. The unicorn never did ask him his species or origins, she was too intimidated by his presence to ask a personal question that might offend, though she would never say she was scared of him out loud.

Biting her lower lip in indecision Trixie glanced back towards the cave’s entrance expecting to see the intimidating monster in question appear. A bright early summer morning was all that looked back at her. Maybe just the first page? Gently opening the cover of the book Trixie’s eyes scanned the very first line.

Inattentively she whispered what she read, “Rorschach’s Journal, November 1st, 1985. I wake up on cool grass, staring up at blank blue sky, confused and disoriented….”

I wanted to cave something’s skull in. Bludgeon it until it stopped moving, until that incessant nagging that bothers me has been perished. It was that humming sound again. Worming its way into every crevice of my thoughts. It had not been content to be idle as it had been for weeks, in the past it would always go away and though the few episodes I had shocked and startled me I took a small measure of comfort that they were temporary.

Now the sound refused to leave. Every thought, every little twitch of an emotion was blared a thousand times over by that humming. Like a headache that refused to turn away, one that got stronger with every waking moment that I tried to form even the slightest little thought.

Since last night I haven’t been able to sleep. After Luna left, thought I'd feel better showing her my contempt for her apathetic ways, yet… I felt nothing. That ringing sound returned to me soon after certain dark thoughts crossed my mind. Just as it was the last times it happened. It never left my mind, instead it chose to invade anything I thought of with its painful screeching.

I wandered out of my camp at dusk to try and clear my mind with a walk. Have been walking ever since and the sound still follows me. Now I was agitated, beyond normal. Felt ready to lash out at anything I came across, didn’t care what it was, I just wanted to make something bleed and to pass on my resentment. Trekking deeper into the forest I’d hoped to garner the attention of some beast to kill, a Manticore, Chimera, or Wyvern to fight. Something that wouldn’t die so easily.

Yet the forest was silent, it shrunk away from each step I took, sensing that hated brooding and harm I intended upon its dwellers. And the sound pressed on with its demands, pressing me forward deeper into the forest, deeper than I’ve ever been in. Unfamiliar branches scraped my form and groped at me. The sun itself dimmed from the overbearing limbs above that blocked out its rays for their own greedy use. Gnarled trees became less sporadic and more dominant. Part of me wanted to turn back, to forget this nonsense of bloodshed and carry on, yet the buzzing in my ears pestered me with whispers of how I shouldn’t, how I needed to satisfy my anger. It was right though, I needed to unleash my pent up rage, even for just a moment of adrenaline filled battle.

No time for weakness, no questioning in resolve, something out there deserved to be punished. That princess had the nerve to accuse me of wrongdoing, she need only to turn to the forest to see what filth grew in her own home. Things with teeth and sinful souls, things worse than the offspring of Cain, and yet she chooses me to confront. Did she think I was weak? Was that why she went to me instead of turning to the monsters that surrounded me and hounded my presence with every step I took in return for my retribution? Not weak, not even close, just been slack in body count. Needed something to sate my thirst yet even the Manticores shy away from my approach and did not take my challenge.

I wasn’t weak, I was just. It was the Princess that was weak. It was they that were weak. I needed to remind myself that, all of them were weak things that couldn’t see past what was right in front of their eyes. They wouldn’t understand what suffering was, for these things… these ponies… to tell them what suffering was would be as effective as describing the color red to a blind man. I still held the burden of understanding, I had to keep moving forward.

Yet you deserve to die, a voice whispered in my ear, mingling with the rest of my thoughts.

I growl at the offending remark that I made to myself. Clenching my hands into fists I turn around sharply in hopes of finding something moving to punish. All around me the trees stared blankly back, sinless things that felt no pain. There was no one else, I was alone. Nothing to make bleed, and this offended the ringing in my ears.

I couldn’t help it anymore. I screamed to the heavens a challenge to strike me down. My sight turned red hoping to spot even the faintest shadow of another human, a monster, anything to recklessly dismantle into gore. I couldn’t rest, couldn’t be weak. Not when souls to punish existed or monsters roamed. They deserved to die, not I. They all deserved to die. Sinners, the guilty, they all would die. All of them. No compromise, no second chances, no prisons or systems. Death, let God sort them out like he does best. Like even He cares anymore.

Nothing answered me back. The forest was silent in its reply and I only hear the echoes of my own voice. I was truly alone in this world.

Hours passed by and I didn’t even notice, the sun dipped down. I was a ghost intruding in the forest. Dazed, sleep deprived, and angry. Every chance my eyelids dipped down to force sleep upon me the humming sound would scream and I would be reminded of my reason for being out in the forests. My instincts told me something wasn’t right but each time I tried to question what it was I would be disrupted by the sudden sound of whispers around me. Have I lost my mind finally? I felt now that it was the sound, that badgering and consistent sound, that pulled me forward, aching for battle.

Why should I be so willing to do just that?

Memories of my screaming passed by and I don’t know if they were my own words anymore. Was like my writing. Sounded just like me but wasn’t. It wasn’t the same, couldn’t be. Yet what was different? I stop walking, I refused to take another step forward. I couldn’t keep the rage that boiled in my veins, I needed something to kill, then I could be done with it and the screeching in my ears would disappear..

My answer came with the sound of frantic flapping wings.

I followed the sounds of a struggle with the help of the dipping sun’s light. It was already setting and I had barely noticed the passage of time. How long was I out, enthralled with my own rage? I pass by branches and brushed away leaves as I continue towards the sound. The humming finally subsides to a background sound along with the forest’s cicadas and chirping frogs. It gives me a chance to think on what sort of creature made such a sound. The wings sounded the same as a bird’s, ruled out the idea of it being a Manticore. Few monsters I could think of met the category of feathered wings.

The disappointment was rather mild when I reached the source of the panicked bird to find just that. Curious, I looked up above me where in the canopy a large owl had tangled itself in some vines. The brownish owl pecked at it with its powerful jaws and clawed at the vines coiled around one of its legs, right wings, and neck. Its plume was disheveled from its struggling as the vines were outlasting the bird’s attempts at breaking it. Each time it struggled the owl only tangled itself more and wrapped the vine around its neck tighter. Such a stupid bird to get itself into such a predicament. Perhaps it fell or attempted to flee some predator but in the end it got itself stuck?

Watching the bird struggle for a few seconds more I came to the stark conclusion it wasn’t going to get free anytime soon, it would sooner strangle itself. I sigh from the annoyance and grab hold one of the lower tree branches to pull myself up to the bird’s level. It notices my approach and doubles its attempts at escaping, choking itself with the vine around its neck. After avoiding the bird’s mad thrashing and pulling myself up to the same level branches I inspect the vines. It’d be too tough to break and I neglected bringing any of my knives with me for just such an occasions. I look up to try and find one of the vine’s sources in hopes of ripping it from its spot. My reward came when I noticed one branch above that was entrapped by the vine was weak and leafless. It was a simple exertion of force to pull it off its spot and unravel the tension the vines had.

With the extra lining the vines fell away from the bird and they both dipped down. The owl easily slipped out of the vine’s loose grasping. It stared up at me briefly before it shot out into the forest. ‘Stupid bird, I thought. I jumped down from the tree limbs and landed upon the soft forest floor again. With the bird gone and no direction to turn to I walked aimlessly away. I feel a great weight lifted from my mind with the humming dulled to nothing. I sigh in relief, the bird, as stupid as it was, had served to at least temporarily relieve my migraines.

It didn’t take me long to realize I was being followed. The sound of wings in the air caught my attention. The slightest of sounds coupled with the anxiety of knowing I was being watched. I turn around to see the owl was following me. It doesn’t seem perturbed by being spotted and moves around me to land on a nearby branch. Silently we regard each other, its stare never faltering. I stepped closer to it and it didn’t react, merely watch me with its large unblinking eyes.

It rather unnerved me.

I never cared for animals, useless things in my opinion and more often detrimental to a man’s well-being should they be wild. Seeing this owl reminded me how I never could understand what Dan saw in them to take the moniker of Nite Owl. I remember he told me they represented wisdom but I could never see the intelligence in a fat bird.

Tentatively I place my arm out before the owl and to my mild surprise it moves from the branch onto my forearm. Its grip was impressive and its pointed talons dug into the tough canvas of my jacket. I tilt my head to it and it mimics me, I repeated the action in the different direction and it follows just the same. Leaning my head back it leans back as well and once satisfied with the other we both return to standing as usual. I chuckle, a noise that came out more raspy than I thought it would, “Strange thing, aren’t you?” I ask it.

“Who?” it responds to me.

I smirk, “I forget I’m talking to an animal.”

“Who?” it repeats.

I understood it was just calling out but I swore by its tone it was goading me into responding to its calls. Obviously it wasn’t, birds weren’t that smart but perhaps it would do no harm to humor this thing. After all it did keep that humming sound at bay for the time being. Talking might help clear my mind and this animal wasn’t going to actually respond to me.

“You remind of someone I knew once.” I tell the creature as I start to walk again, “Before I died.”

“Who?” it asks me again.

Ignoring my rational thought I decided to answer it, “Fellow hero named Nite Owl. Naïve man with unrealistic world views and far too hopeful for man’s future.”

“Who?” the owl says, though I notice a differing tone to each of its calls when it speaks to me. But what was I thinking, it wasn’t speaking to me.

“Was weak, compromised when he could and took pity on criminals lowlifes...” I trail off as I thought back to Dan, the one friend that stood by me and tolerated my habits and ways. Rather he was the only real friend I had and even in the end I never really blamed him for my death. He made his choice and I made mine, it was as simple as that. I tell the bird so with this different line of thing, “Was only friend really. Honest. Affable. All around friendly. Charismatic even to other heroes and press.”

“Who?”

“Awful investigator but genius in invention. Inheritance of banking fortune helped too. Good fighter as well, taught him some but he didn’t need my guidance. We made a good team for a while. More effective than the New York police ever could be. Took down major crime in the city and kept the nights safe for innocent people.” I pause to think back to the many nights we spent cleaning up the streets. I thought back to the raids on drug dealers, those chances we had to halt robberies, rescuing the kidnapped and punishing the kidnappers, and stopping villains from carrying out their malicious agendas. Then I thought about the falling out we had, the night that ended our partnership. I remember it clearly, atop the art museum, the first time the two of us came to blows. Quietly I say to the owl, “Shame it all ended.”

“Why?”

“Well... Wait.” I stopped walking to fiercely stare at the owl perched on my outstretched arm. It looked back at me, unblinking, and disinterested in the quizzical look I gave upon it.

“Did you just say ‘why’?” I ask the thing suspiciously.

“Who?” It quickly replies.

“You. You did just now… Hurm, nevermind. Nothing else makes sense here, why should owls.” I resumed walking, ignoring the glaring fact that this bird might be toying with me. But there was no way it was that smart. Probably just heard it wrong.

“Who?”

Might as well continue my monologue; it felt good to actually speak my thoughts than deal again with the war in my mind, the respite was a godsend. “Talking of Dan brings to mind someone else.”

“Who?” it asks me with an inquisitive undertone to its call.

“Twilight Sparkle.” I replied with a nod, “Hate the name. Dislike her personality, never could stand intellectuals but she’s bearable I suppose. Have had to deal with her type before so it comes easy to tolerate their type. Dan always was bookish. Felt the accumulation of useless or outdated facts and knowledge would somehow better himself. Curious habit.” I mused.

“Who?”

I give the bird a frown, “You know. With your riveting personality you might get along with Twilight Sparkle. After all she does live in a tree in town. She might as well be an owl if it’s true that you things are so smart and wise. I highly doubt that though. Now how about you leave, tired of you following me and my arm won’t hold a fat bird up for much longer. Perhaps go bother her, she might tolerate your stupidity more than I,” I said, fed up with the bird’s one word and toying tonality.

Flinging my arm skyward I sent the bird flying back into the sky. It breaches the canopy and takes off into the night, this time it wouldn’t return to me. Looking up the gap in the foliage where the bird disappeared I see the stars shine in their illustrious glory. It calms me to see them and for the first time all day my head feels clear for just second. I’ve completely forgotten my rage, it seemed foolish now and to think I’ve been gone all day.

Trixie must be worried out of her mind.

The thought makes me laugh, an act I haven’t done in such a long time and sounded more pained than happy, I must look like a raging fool to be standing in the dark forest laughing to myself but I didn’t care. It felt good to have the sudden change in emotion even if it came from such a ludicrous and stupid thought. I laughed until my lungs burned and I couldn’t laugh anymore. To think it would be a bird that brought me to my senses, it almost made me want to laugh again. Looking around my surroundings I couldn’t help but wonder where I was. Didn’t think things through enough to realize in my wandering I had no idea where I’d end up. Getting back will be annoying.

The sound growls in frustration, a quick crescendo that I somehow manage to crush down. I’m resolved to run back and stop this mindless rage of mine. This was not my purpose and nothing could tell me what to do. I turn back around to the trail I have made, hopefully following it back would bring me into familiar territory again.

I had to get back before I start to loose my senses again, somehow i felt this was only a reprieve to more suffering.

[Shorter chapter, rather a prelude for the next chapter which will be pretty big (I mean that literally and figuratively!) Also I just have to give a shout out to Muffintop who made the comment about meeting Owlicious. I had thought about meeting the owl before but didn't think much of it until Muffintop commented about the connections that could be made with Nite Owl. I figured, why not give it its own chapter. Hope it meets your expectations mate, and to the rest of ya you can thank him for this chapter!

-Ex Nihilos]

(15) "Hello Mr. Kovacs"

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Chapter 15: “Hello Mr. Kovacs”

Proofread by: supernova708, Sinderen7, and Imperius - bless their faces

Once you realize what a joke everything is, being the Comedian is the only thing that makes sense, the hero Edward Blake had said. I don’t know how long ago it’s been since those words were spoken. Such an off-handed remark that made so much sense, I don’t recall where or why the Comedian said it but the man was right. The human race is sick and the Comedian reflected it; he was a parody. There was no denying what he was. He was a murderer, a rapist, and a nihilist. If I was to be the so called psychopath, Edward Blake would be the Sociopath. I respected him but I never liked him. He reminded me of what was sick in this world, an embodiment of the cruelty Man possessed.

I wonder. Did he ever live with regret? And at the end of it all did he feel guilt for the things he’d done? Only his murderer, Veidt, would know the answer. Only he heard the uttering of the Comedian’s last words, the last thing a cruel man had to say to a dying world….

Trixie jumped when she heard a crashing of the forest outside, it seemed early morning reading was not such a good idea. Hurriedly, she closed the journal and with her magic placed it back to its rightful spot, adjusting it carefully to make it seem that it had been untouched. She wasn’t sure yet if it was him that had made the crashing sound, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

Satisfied that the book was back in its original spot without one page out of place, she peaked around the cave’s edge. Sure enough, she spotted the clear visage of a very disheveled looking Rorschach. Darting back into the cave, the unicorn looked around to try and find something to occupy herself with, to show that she wasn’t somepony to be suspicious of.

Too late.

She sat stalk still as Rorschach entered, expecting to be questioned right on the spot for what she was doing. She had to look suspicious, standing in a cave doing nothing but act nervous, but her posture slackened when she took the time to actually look at the creature as it half stumbled into its home again. He looked tired in his gait and the way he carried his slumped shoulders, yet he showed no signs of collapsing any time soon. She half suspected he’d yell at her as he usually did whenever he was in such an awful mood but instead he was quiet, deathly silent.

Going to the rock, he put the journal to the side and didn’t even bother to question if she had dared to read it or not. That was especially odd considering he guarded his belongings fervently. Trixie began to worry; there was no telling what was going on in the man’s head right now. He looked exhausted; but knowing him, he could be ready to explode at any second. Silently, she watched him sway, barely able to sit upright on his own until something seemed to shock him awake again. He didn’t even appear to have noticed her presence, which slightly offended Trixie. To think the unicorn had worried if he was alright, and now he returns completely ignoring her, stumbling from lack of sleep due to some hunt he’d taken upon himself.

Before she could stop herself, she found herself huff audibly. She cringed, expecting him to lash out from the offending sound. Nothing happened and slowly she opened her eyes again expecting to see him leering at her disapprovingly, as he always did when she did something that annoyed him. He only swayed slightly to his left, catching himself with his elbow to keep himself from fully falling over, still unaware of her presence and not even hearing the sound she made.

Something definitely wasn’t right.

Trixie knew he was odd but he was also a creature of habit. She knew that both from her experience with him and also what she gathered from his journal. All yesterday she wasn’t able to put the book down, refusing to stop on the first page as she had planned, she was able to delve deeper into whom Rorschach was. What Trixie read though left more questions than answers. From what the journal told her, Rorschach was lost and yet he kept referring to himself as dead, unable to return to the last place he’d been. The human especially blamed another being named Dr. Manhattan for this, his supposed murderer. Yet it didn’t make sense to the unicorn, Rorschach was still alive and breathing. The book went on into even more confused rambling with moments of clarity, but overall it was a terrifying and unsettling collection of thoughts from a harsh person.

“A-are you alright?” Trixie found herself asking the monster that she had more reason to fear now than ever.

Heard her, knew she was there, yet I was too tired to address her antics. Nearly four days without sleep has taken its toll on my strength. I could barely focus or even sit properly, let alone answer her questions. No doubt she had many. It seems I can no longer disappear as I please, I thought irritably.

Just a dog on a leash, something whispered to me as the sharp hum droned on.

“I’m fine,” I muttered quietly, rubbing at my eyes in the futile attempt keep them open.

“Are you sure?” she asked with a hint of worry and apprehension.

“Yes.” I flatly told her, hoping she’d stop pestering me. Her persistence was annoying as I knew her worry was not genuine. She just needed me to get her food and keep the monsters of the forest at bay.

“You don’t sound sure.” she brazenly told me… or did I imagine such a tone?

“I said I am,” I snapped back at her. The unicorn shrinks back beneath my glare. My patience was thin as it was. How I wanted to sleep, to lay my head down to rest, but I knew that wouldn’t work. I move to get up but I never got far, instead the droning noise showed its disapproval. The sound screeches at me, my vision shakes and I feel some wet droplets fall from my ears again. I tumble off the rock and onto the rocky ground, clutching at my head. Through my blurred vision I can see something blue rush to my side.

“Rorschach what’s wrong?” she asked, frightened and worried at my thrashing form on the ground. The unicorn reaches her hoof out to me but shudders away when I lash out at her.

Kill her, she doesn’t deserve to live. Useless meat.

“No!” I screamed both at her and the voice. I would not allow this voice to make demands of me. The screech screamed back at me for my defiance and I can hear the voice repeat itself. I shake my head, hoping to loosen the grip of the sound’s nagging claws. Instead, they dug their talons deeper into my mind. “Get away from me,” I scowled at her, she simply looked on in terror at me. “Get away before I kill you!” I growled with rage, even though my vision is blurred, I can hear her momentarily hesitate. Barely, I can see her panicked expression. Finally, she gathered her senses enough to rush out of the cave, the sound of her leaving gave me some relief. All I could think about was hurting her and anything else that could bleed. Wasn’t about to let this screeching and whispering voice get the better of me.

Give in, a voice whispered into my ear, you know they are all guilty.

“Innocent,” I said through painfully gritted teeth.

Only the dead are innocent, it answered.

The melancholy cloud that surrounded Daisy’s funeral still trailed around Sweet Apple Acres. The Apple family, the cow herd, and every other animal that made their home on the farm moved slower and less lively because of the invisible fog that gripped at their spirits. Daisy had been like family to everyone, in some way to each animal, cow, and pony grieved in their own way. For Applejack, that meant trying to comfort her young sister who refused to eat much of dinner the night before and today wouldn’t leave her room. Big Mac had already gone down to the schoolhouse to tell Cheerilee about what had happened. The schoolteacher was kind enough to let Applebloom spend as much time as she needed out of school, despite her kind offer to excuse her from class work Big Mac insisted on at least getting her homework for the young filly to do when she was ready.

For the fourth time that morning, Applejack tried to talk to her sister. Gently, she knocked against the door to her room. “Applebloom?” she asked loud enough to be heard through the door. With a quick pause she could hear the tell-tale sounds of stifled sobbing. She sighed and tried again, “Applebloom, please, can’t ya let me in ta talk? Ya haven’t even had breakfast yet.” She waited again, hoping to hear the sounds of hoofsteps against the wooden floor or at least an answer from the young filly. The only answer though, was the sound of shuffling covers and muffled crying. Applejack felt her heart drop at the sound. The helplessness of being unable to comfort her sister was painful to endure, but she wanted to respect her sister’s wishes to be alone for a while. It’d be lunch soon and Applejack planned on making it herself to bring up to the door. She couldn’t keep skipping meals and hopefully by that time, she’d be ready to talk.

Climbing down the stairs, she found Big Mac sitting by the table reading the morning paper. He glanced up expectantly at Applejack as she entered the kitchen. A slow shake of the mare’s head confirmed that Applebloom hadn’t come out of her room yet. The deep sound of the stallion sighing was heard as he folded the paper up and left it on the table. A brief silence passed between them before Applejack opened her mouth to ask what they should do to coax their sister into talking.

She was cut off at the sound of frantic knocking at the front door.

Both ponies turned to the abrasive sound, the two then turned to each other briefly before Applejack trotted out of the kitchen towards the door. Part of her expected it to be one of her friends. Fluttershy had informed their other friends about what had happened and at one time or another each of them had come to the farm to give their condolences. Even Rarity, who didn’t often make the trip to Sweet Apple Acres, came to check up on them to add her own sincere apology. Perhaps it was Fluttershy once again asking if everything was alright?

She opened the door and to her surprise it was the last pony she ever expected to find at her door. An azure unicorn stood before her, breathing heavy like she had been sprinting for quite some time. Her light blue mane was disheveled with leaves and branches poking out from where they had snagged upon her during her run. Dirt, mud, and dust blotted her once brilliant blue coat.

“T-Trixie?” Applejack managed to hesitantly stammer out to the unicorn, obviously taken aback by the magician’s sudden visit and her rugged appearance.

“Apple… jack,” Trixie replied through great gulps of air.

“What’re y’all doin’ back here again?” the orange mare asked suspiciously and with a hard frown. She hadn’t forgotten the last time Trixie had come to town or the embarrassment of getting tangled in her own rope thanks to the arrogant unicorn. Her appearance spelled trouble but a strange look in her eye worried Applejack. Trixie looked worried, almost frantic, and her arrogant stance was gone.

“Rorschach’s in trouble.” Trixie said quickly, finally catching her breathe enough to answer the cowpony.

“Rorschach?” Applejack echoed, a hint of worry crossed her features before her hard frown returned again, “What in the hay are ya talkin’ about? How d’ya know Rorschach?”

“Look, it’d take too long to explain right now but something’s wrong. I don’t know what happened, but this morning he collapsed and won’t stop screaming!” Trixie said back.

“Why should ah believe you?” Applejack asked.

“You’re just going to need to trust me. Please, you’re his friend…” By now, Trixie was almost begging. It scared Applejack as it told her something was most definitely wrong for Trixie to be pleading for any kind of help.

The few brief seconds Applejack had to think, made Trixie terrified that she wouldn’t believe her, but finally, the orange mare turned around and called out, “Big Mac! Somethin’s wrong with Rorschach. Ah’m goin’ out ta see what’s wrong.” Trixie could see the large stallion over Applejack’s shoulder solemnly nod his head in acknowledgment. She breathed a sigh of relief, thankful that Applejack would at least hear her out.

Trixie stepped out of the way to let Applejack outside. The orange mare took a moment to grab a coil of rope that hung from a handle next to the door. Settling the rope comfortably around her neck, she gave Trixie a curt nod.

“Alright, let’s go.”

Trixie led the way as best she could. She wasn’t particularly fast and, at times, Applejack could easily pass her, but she pushed herself forward. Both of them knew the way to go, but Applejack paced herself to keep with Trixie instead of speeding ahead. Applejack wasn’t sure what she’d find at the cave that Rorschach made his home in and, despite her growing worry, she didn’t want to leave Trixie behind.

The unicorn’s chest ached from the exertion of running. She wasn’t used to such exercise but the thought of leaving Rorschach by himself kept her from slowing down. Memories of the journal she read kept surfacing to mind though, making her question helping this hostile thing. Did she really consider him a friend? After all the things he’s said and the way he’s acted? If anything that journal confirmed what she thought, he was a lost monster that thought only of bloodshed and hatred, and yet he had opened his home to her and even took the time to (begrudgingly) listen to her, as well as offer his abrasive insight into helping her reacquaint herself with ponies. But did that make up for him being a monster?

Her own question was left unanswered as the two jumped into the grove. Trixie stopped to try and halt the cramp that had grown in her side but a sudden pained cry from the cave prompted Applejack to shoot forward with the unicorn struggling to catch up.

The orange mare stopped at the cave’s entrance, shocked at what she saw. Since the first time Applejack had met Rorschach, the image that was burned into her mind was him standing between her and a pack of timber wolves, a stoic and steadfast wall that seemed unbreakable by anything. In her mind, he had been a being of unfaltering strength and resolve, but before her was a completely different creature. What she saw now was a man in pain. He was on the ground upon his knees, clutching at his ears as trickles of blood fell in beads from beneath his pristine white mask.

He was holding back another scream of pain; it hurt her to see him like this, in such anguish. Without a second thought, she rushed to his side, “Rorschach?” the worry that had gripped her made her voice crack, “I-it’s me, Applejack, come on answer me! What’s wrong? What’s going on?” In an attempt to comfort him she placed a hoof on his shoulder.

He lashed out at her, sending her onto her back. Quickly, she moved out of his way as tears started to well up in her eyes. Her friend, her savior, had just attacked her and she didn’t know why. She watched him struggle and thrash upon the ground, desperately clutching at his ears to block out some unheard sound; she didn’t know what to do or how to fix this. She nearly jumped when she felt a hoof on her shoulder. Trixie was by her side, helping her up but, all the while, Applejack kept her eyes on her enraged friend.

“W-what’s wrong with him? Why doesn’t he recognize me?” Applejack worriedly asked.

“I don’t know. He’s been gone all yesterday and came back this morning. I know for sure he hasn’t slept in at least two days.” Trixie answered, watching the struggling man. Both jumped back when a sudden scream of pain escaped his grasp and resounded against the narrow walls.

Applejack didn’t know what to say, she’d never dealt with anything like this before. She had no idea what could be causing him to break down like this. Unless… Applejack’s eyes widened and her pupils became pinpricks of worry, “You don’t think… from fightin’ the timberwolves he could ‘ave gotten rabies?”

The unicorn shook her head, still watching the struggling man on the ground, “N-no I don’t think so. From what I know, this has been steadily growing from the past few days without him being actually sick, I don’t know what it is but I’m sure it isn’t rabies, at least I don't think rabies causes somep... someone to bleed from the ears. He’s made sure in the past to go to Zecora to be sure he never contracts any disease.” Despite herself, the unicorn couldn’t shake a sudden image that passed through her mind; a distraught Rorschach foaming at the mouth beneath that mask of his, eyes bloodshot and crazed.

“He’s gonna hurt himself at this rate,” Applejack said, cringing slightly as the man’s skull just barely grazed a piece of jagged rock. Spotting one of Rorschach’s ropes on the floor, an idea came to her. She picked it up, checking the knotted circle to be sure it was firm and strong. Expertly, she gave the rope a few twirls, a difficult matter in the small confines of the cave, but she was given enough room to just barely swing the rope around in a steady momentum. Sensing what the orange mare was doing, Trixie used her magic to lift the struggling Rorschach back into an awkward sitting position. Taking the opportunity, the rope was flung and captured the man’s arms to his sides where they struggled against the rope around him. In his right mind, Applejack knew he could have gotten out but something was keeping him from thinking straight. Neither she nor Trixie knew what to do, but there very well could be another unicorn that could shed light onto what was wrong with the human.

Letting go of the rope, Applejack looked to Trixie, “Stay ‘ere and watch ‘im, ah’m gonna go get my brother and the cart. Ah know someone who can help.”

“Well hurry! He isn’t going to stay put for very long!” Trixie replied as she hurriedly used her magic to tighten the slackening rope. Applejack didn’t answer as she sped out of the cave and darted out of the grove. Without having to worry about any other pony keeping up, Applejack ran as fast as she could through the forest to the willow tree.

Pain, that’s all that I could feel. Muffled sounds and voices prodded my awareness, but I could make nothing of it, like hearing voices beneath layers of white noise on a radio. The one thing that dominated my mind was the pain. The ringing in my ears that demanded I listen to it, yet I didn’t know what it said.

They don’t trust you, they’ve come to take you away, whispered the voice that spoke over the ringing.

Something touched my shoulder and I was filled with panic. Dark shadows everywhere, blue and red flashing lights behind them as they reached down to take me away. I lashed out with my arm, swinging and hitting something that easily gave away, but the shadows didn’t go away. They leered over me as the whispering in my ears spoke of unintelligible things.

I cried out and tightly shut my eyes. My head quaked with the agony that invaded my mind and tore away at my senses like hungry carrion feeders to a warm carcass. I opened my eyes again and my sight was blurred and unfocused. I could see nothing but blurs of color and the sounds of distant talking that just barely breached my awareness beyond the pain.

Suddenly I felt myself lifted. I turned and faced an orange and blue blur.

Manhattan the voice whispered, dripping with a malice that matched my own. The voices took delight in this.

I growled in frustration and anger, in an attempt to fight the sound and my own blurred perception I tried to move forward towards the blue blur. I was stopped. I felt something coil around my arms and brought them to my sides. The surge of panic grew again and I fought against this sudden attack against me. The rope was strong and held fast against my struggling. For a moment it loosened, but I was too slow to take advantage of the lax in strength. The rope tightened again and held back my struggling. All the time the voice seemed to shout from a distance, get free, break free!

I could only take a sharp, pained intake of air as I suddenly felt the ringing intensify in my ears, grating against my very perception with claws made of jagged glass.

They’ll lock you in a little cage, the whispers told me, and they’ll make sure you’ll never see the light of day.

I tried to respond, to say it wasn’t true, but all I could do was give an exclamation at the agony that seemed to radiate from within my very being. A worried voice next to me tries to shout to me, trying to tell me everything was going to be alright. I wanted to strangle that voice, and a chorus of approval sounded from beneath the ringing torment. Weakly, I tugged at the bonds and the voice mocked me for my lack of strength; which voice it was I didn’t know anymore.

I don’t know how long I was there, lost in my own head trying to count out the seconds to concentrate my thoughts upon. I was barely aware of something strong lifting me and tossing me onto a different surface, a wooden one. My struggle began anew and I tried to shout out in protest but what came out was an anguished groan as I felt something rip at the back of my eyes, sending tremors of pain to my chest. I couldn’t control my panic but something kept the rope in place to hold back my struggling.

Pathetic, the voice echoed.

Slowly I became aware that I was moving. Voices spoke from beyond my understanding and the rolling sun burned. I rolled about, trying to get free from the rope, and found a wooden wall keeping me from going any further. Rolling in the other direction I was met with the same resistance. Something spoke to me but the voices drowned the voice out. Something touching my shoulder again caused me to shudder. I was reminded of the voice and what it said. Taken away to a prison, alone with nothing but darkness.

Not even to wallow in the scum you have grown fond of, the voice taunted.

Hooves stomped upon the ground in haste, the clattering cart following close behind. Now clear of the forest, the cart’s motions became less chaotic and its occupant lay quieter. Even so, the human seemed always unaware of what was happening around him. Applejack ran close next to the cart, casting worried glances at the silently muttering Rorschach that struggled weakly against the rope in the cart’s bed. Blood dripped from the sides of his head, quickening her breath from the fear of the possible injury he might have. There was little time to check now.

They reached the edge of Ponyville where Big Mac slowed down. Trixie trailed behind, quickly losing her breath but still managing to keep up with the two Apple family ponies. Seeing them slow down she did so as well, glad for the respite but also worried about the town’s reaction of carting a strange thing through town. A strange thing that could start screaming again at any time, Trixie anxiously thought. There also lay the quiet anxiety of returning to town, the azure unicorn wondered if she was remembered here still.

The three entered the town at a quick trot and thankfully Rorschach had gone quiet, but it was a silence that scared Trixie and Applejack. Applejack knew Rorschach’s mask well, she could tell the different, almost subtle, shifts in the black ink that signaled the slightest changes to the man’s expression. It was always changing into different shapes but now looking into it, it unsettled her how still it was. Rorschach was in a daze, a thousand yard stare beneath that mask that left his face like a skull. Quietly, he muttered under his breath. Applejack couldn’t make out what he was whispering but could tell his voice was weak and pained.

Trixie bit at her lower lip, her eyes scanning the few ponies they passed. Many didn’t notice what was in the cart but the ones that did stopped to gawk. Only a few ponies stopped because they recognized her. On each occasion, she made sure to pick up the pace and move on before they could say anything. Trixie liked attention, but not now, toting around a wounded human and looking rugged from the long run she’s been forced to endure. So focused on other ponies, it came as a surprise to her to find that Applejack was leading them to the center of town and not towards the hospital on the edge of Ponyville. Frowning, she followed closer behind, using the cart as cover for any knowing ponies around.

She abruptly stopped and narrowed her eyes when she saw the familiar tree library. She knew who lived there. Grabbing onto the back of the cart she pulled back enough to get Big Mac to stop to see what it was holding the cart back. Applejack turned around to find Trixie glaring back at her.

“What in the hay are you doing, Trixie?” Applejack asked.

“What’s the meaning of bringing him to her?” Trixie asked, sneering to punctuate her last word.

Applejack returned the sneer with a glare, “If anypony will know what’s causin’ Rory to act like this it’d be Twilight!”

“Hah! I find that hard to believe. She’d probably do more harm than good.” Trixie condescended.

“What’s your problem with Twilight, Trixie? Last I recall she’d saved the town from that Ursa Minor that yer braggin’ caused!”

“Well I could have handled that-“

“Look Trixie, we don’t have time for this. Yer just gonna need to stop being so hard headed and let Twilight help. Come on Big Mac.” Applejack snapped back at Trixie, who simply huffed. The unicorn suddenly stumbled as the cart moved forward again and begrudgingly she moved along with it to the library.

Taking the lead again, Applejack moved up to the tree library’s door and knocked several times. She waited anxiously as she heard the sound of soft footsteps approach the door. The handle was turned and a familiar purple and green dragon appeared in the doorway. The perplexed dragon looked around at the assembled ponies, “Uhhh, what’s all this about, Applejack?” he asked after some hesitation.

“Spike, is Twilight around? We need her help.” Applejack solemnly said.

“Uhh, yeah let me go get her,” Spike said, opening the door wider to let her in. He lingered a bit longer upon seeing Trixie. His eyes narrowed in suspicion as the mare did the same, though a quick nudge by Applejack spurred Spike to get going. Rorschach began his thrashing anew as he was picked up by Big Mac and brought inside the tree home, the sound of his renewed and fevered shouting was the first thing Twilight heard that caused her to rush into the room.

“Applejack? Rorschach?” Twilight asked, looking at each of them in turn until her eyes fell on a scowling Trixie. “T-Trixie? What’s going on?”

“We don’t know, Twi. That’s why we’re here.” Applejack responded and brought the lavender unicorn up to speed on recent events, from Trixie running to get her, Rorschach’s symptoms, to finally getting him here. Still, dozens of questions went through Twilight’s mind but before she could even begin to question Trixie’s part in all of this or more details on what’s been happening, Rorschach renewed his screams of torment like something had jabbed daggers into him. The three turned to see him on the ground, attempting to smash himself against the tree’s wall, trying to get free from his bonds.

“Umm, I think I have some business… over with Owloysius... another…” Spike didn’t bother finishing his excuse as he left the room for the kitchen. The sight of the crazed human was a bit too much for the baby dragon and he had no interest in getting close to the possibly crazed monster’s thrashing.

Applejack was the first to react by rushing over to him. Placing her hooves up on his shoulder she tried to steady his thrashing. Looking over her shoulder Applejack called out, “Can’t you do something Twilight?”

Seeing that the orange mare was having trouble keeping the human steady, Trixie dashed over to hold the human’s other shoulder in an attempt to keep him from bashing himself against the wall, leaving a hesitant lavender unicorn to watch the human’s pained state of mind.

Shaking her head, Twilight trotted over, “I don’t know what to do though, there’s no telling what’s wrong with him!”

“Well try anything, Trixie very much doubts he’ll hold still for much longer!” the azure unicorn said sardonically, pushing the human back down before he could lash out again.

“I can try a mind clearing spell, but I don’t know if it will work!” Twilight said as she moved closer to Rorschach, making sure she kept away from his thrashing legs. Her horn aglow, she got close enough to touch her horn to his forehead. They met, and the effects weren’t what the unicorn was expecting.

A white light erupted the moment Twilight’s horn touched the human’s forehead. Before Twilight could pull back, a burst of energy pushed her and the other two ponies across the room. Hitting the floor, the three dazed ponies looked around, trying to get their bearings. To their surprise they found the library filled with a violet fog, a haze that blocked their view. Rorschach had slumped over, appearing unconscious but still muttering incoherently to himself.

Applejack shakily got back on her legs, picking up her fallen Stetson and placing it back onto her head. Glancing to the others she saw Trixie sitting in a daze, her head lolling and her eyes out of focus. Across from the azure unicorn lay a weakened Twilight, slowly picking herself up. “What the hay is this?” Applejack asked as she tried to gaze into the thickening violet haze that wisped about like a barely contained nebula within the library.

“I don’t know,” Twilight said as she managed to stand back up. Looking around the fog, she spoke wearily, “That was supposed to be a simple spell to clear headaches and stress, but something went wrong. I have no idea what this is.”

“Trixie... does not feel good,” stammered the confused unicorn nearby as she slowly regained her senses.

Before either mare could answer the dazed unicorn, the sound of a closing door caught their attention. All three looked about the room, but the front door was closed still and Spike was still out of the room, making little to no sound himself. The source of the sound slowly dawned on them all as an orange glow appeared within the violet haze. The dusty violet cloud swirled amidst the orange glow that slowly took shape. Slowly and carefully it formed into a bipedal figure. Glowing lines defined themselves and took the shape of the clothes the figure wore. A jacket with the texture of cotton, pants, dress shoes, gloves. Finally dust formed along the figure’s head, defining his features down to the freckles that dominated the figure’s cheeks. The face was younger, less haggard, but the freckles and hair reminded Applejack of exactly who it was. “Rorschach?” the cowpony said quietly to the spectral figure. It did not hear her.

Nearby, another glow of orange appeared and with faster clarity formed into an overstuffed armchair with grimy dark stains. In the chair sat an elderly and large woman, she stared intently at something unseen, turned away from the standing figure behind her. She twisted slightly to the side as the figure stepped forward; the scowl on her face was that of a monster disturbed from its rest.

“Money,” the spectral man said, tossing the woman in the chair an envelope. The figure’s voice was younger and less harsh or raspy but it was familiar. It was Rorschach’s voice. Applejack leaned in, afraid to step closer for worry that it would disrupt the scene playing before her. She didn’t understand what she was seeing but the feeling that she was seeing something very private festered in the back of her mind.

The woman’s fingers greedily grabbed the envelope and ripped open the top of it. Tipping it over, she pulled out strange pieces of rectangular paper that she swiftly counted. The scowl on her face deepened, “What the hell kind of joke is this?! There’s only two hundred dollars here!” The woman’s head whipped around and glared at the spectral Rorschach that stood over her, “Are trying to starve your own mother you little retard?!”

Applejack winced at the harsh word. Shock, disgust, and horror all crossed her mind as she reeled back. Rorschach’s own mother, the woman who was supposed to love him and care for him, had just demeaned him so viciously. The thought was so foreign to her, knowing only love from her own family this was something that she could barely fathom. Unconsciously, she found herself shaking from the shock of the scene, but the figures before her didn’t react. They didn’t seem to notice that they were being watched, like actors in a play.

“Two hundred dollars is far more than you deserve.” The specter scowled back with an equal amount of venom.

The woman looked flustered and glared back, “Watch your mouth, brat! Talking to your mother like that, don’t you forget those years I spent raising you and giving you a roof over your head!”

“Don’t make me laugh.” The specter scoffed back with a malice that caused the three ponies to shudder, “Be glad I spend the time to come back. If we didn’t share blood… probably wouldn’t be bothered with whether you lived or died.” The glowing figure spat back. Snapping around, he moved back to the unseen door he had entered from.

The woman quickly tried to get out of her seat, “I spared the rod too much for you, you mongoloid! Talking to your own mother like that, get back here!”

“If you want more money, how about you go talk to your pimp, mother?” Rorschach harshly spat back, hissing that last vile word like the most disgusting of curses. A door slammed and the orange glow turned to the dust again, the loud sound caused the three observers to jump.

“What is all this? That was Rorschach, but what are we seein’?” Applejack asked shakily, still trying to recover from the emotional scene that had passed by.

Still unsure of herself, Twilight slowly shook her head, “I don’t know… but it’s like we’re seeing his memories play out in front of us.” The lavender unicorn’s legs were shaking as well from the rather traumatic drama she saw. The only one that didn’t seem as badly fazed was Trixie. Knocked from her stupor she sat on the floor still. She had watched the memory play before her in silent and calm demeanor. Only her eyes showed the turmoil going through her mind, not once did she look away from the growing orange glow in the cloud. Absently, she nodded in agreement to the other two, but her attention remained focused on what was happening next.

“It was two years before I saw her again.”

Applejack and Twilight fell silent from the voice, it was Rorschach’s but the man was still slumped over where he lay, unaware of what was happening around him. The echo of the voice was shallow, barely there behind the harsh voice that spoke from the fog. A whirlpool formed from the wisps of violet particles. In the whirlpool’s center the orange glow appeared again, as the vortex expanded the center became a clearer scene of a man standing over a workshop table. On the table lay an assortment of threads, scissors, and needles that looked close to the tools Rarity used in her own work. Next to the carefully arranged tools lay the trademark mask that all three were familiar with. The figure in front of the table quickly took the shape of Rorschach, his features became sharp thanks to the orange particles that took his shape. He held something in his hands that he stared at with a strong intensity. It was a newspaper with a blurred headline and unfocused picture.

The voice spoke again, though the spectral Rorschach’s lips did not move, “Woman who’d ordered special dress. Kitty Genovese. I’m sure that was the woman’s name. Headline read, ‘Woman killed while neighbors look on.’ Raped. Tortured. Killed. Here in New York. Outside her own apartment building. Almost forty neighbors heard screams. Nobody did anything. Nobody called cops. Some of them even watched. Do you understand?” The paper was crumpled into a harsh sphere in the spectral man’s hands, “Some of them even watched.” Applejack and Twilight sat again, both listening to this horrible story in shock. This is probably where it all began for him, Twilight found herself thinking.

The paper was dropped on the table and left there as the figure leaned against the table. “I knew what people were then, behind all the evasions, all the self-deception. Ashamed for humanity, I went home. I took the remains of her unwanted dress.” The figure turned to the mask that lay precariously close to his hand. The shifting blackness never ceased as he picked it up and looked at it.

“I made a face that I could bear to look at in the mirror.” The voice said.

The scene faded to dust again, leaving three silent and shocked watchers, and then the memories moved faster. No sooner had the scene finished did the orange glow reformed into a moving orb of light. It danced and swayed within the mist like a ghostly apparition and quite suddenly it was joined by several other orange orbs that danced along with it. They moved towards the first centered orb but each time one of the orbs got close they were knocked away by the swaying center dancer. In a wind of dust, the orbs took the shape of bipedal things and figures. The sounds of a battle played forth.

The center orb took the shape of a familiar Rorschach, each sway was a strike or a hit delivered upon the other orbs that took the shape of foreign and masked figures. Each one would viciously rush Rorschach, sometimes in pairs and other times all together, but every time they tried they were knocked away with ease by a practiced and patient hand. One of the figures though managed to get behind the masked vigilante, a viciously sharp blade in hand. While Rorschach was distracted by one of the other thugs he lunged out with the blade to stab. Applejack started to call out a warning to the spectral Rorschach, but her warning wasn’t needed.

Before the thug could get to Rorschach, he was knocked back by a powerful force as a strange metal hook struck his torso. The other thugs turned to see what had happened to their fellow fighter and Rorschach took this chance to knock one of the thugs out. Two thugs rushed forward to continue the attack when another orange orb appeared from above and rapidly fell upon one of them. The orb atomized to a figure never seen before by the girls, it was far more grandiosely dressed than Rorschach or the thugs. He landed gracefully like a bird landing upon the ground; he stood tall, back to back with Rorschach. He was taller than Rorschach by a full foot, with broad shoulders, and a flowing cape that billowed behind him as he poised himself for another attack, his owl-like helmet and goggles scanned the remaining glowing thugs. Where Rorschach lashed out with strong punches and strikes, this new figure used kicks so that the thugs never truly reached him. Together they dispatched the thugs with such ease that the three observers could only watch in silent awe and excitement.

The final thug fell and the orbs disappeared into dust again, leaving the two heroes to stand side by side. The tall owl-ish hero spoke first in a confident and friendly voice, “You know you could have waited for me before you went rushing off to face these guys alone.”

“Don’t need your help, Nite Owl,” Rorschach grunted, “Can handle it on my own.”

“I have no doubt you can,” the one referred to as Nite Owl said with a smirk, “But if we want to save that hostage we’re going to need to move faster. Two of us working together, we’ll get there much faster.”

There was a pause as Rorschach considered his options, finally he answered, “Hurm, just don’t slow me down.”

As the two figures disappeared, the sound of Nite Owl’s chuckling could be heard, “I could say the same to you, old man.”

The three watched in silent fascination until the sudden voice of a whispering azure unicorn was heard, “His only true friend.” Applejack and Twilight turned to Trixie to question what she meant by that but the sound of groaning stopped them. The haze shifted slightly and the three could see Rorschach on the other side of the room slowly start to come to his senses, yet the reel continued unabated from its waking director.

Echoes from the violet haze called out, voices that seemed to startle Rorschach into better wakefulness. His head darted around to see his surroundings, his eyes quickly fell upon the ethereal nebula before his eyes.

“What the fuck?! Who the fuck are you?!” a frantic voice called out in terror. The scene began to appear with the igniting of two bright orbs. One orb took the shape of Rorschach, the other took the form a seated man handcuffed to furnace. The portly man himself looked dirty, a disheveled set of hair that covered his face and head. The shirt he wore was tainted in grime and filth. Twilight didn’t know why, but something about this scene seemed terribly ominous, something dark that made her shudder. The feeling wasn’t lost on the others either, dread crept into their minds, an unnatural shiver of fear passed down Applejack’s back.

The spectral Rorschach didn’t respond to the panicked man, instead he answered by harshly throwing something at him. It looked like a piece of cloth, burnt and tarnish, but the way the captive man held it, it was like holding his death warrant. Nervously, he clutched the piece of cloth and tore it away. Angrily and nervously he went on, “Y-you think I had something to do with that girl?!”

The ethereal vigilante merely growled as he turned away from the man as his exclamation went on, “I found that! Wh-what evidence have you got, that means nothing!” By now the real Rorschach had begun to shudder and seemed to be focusing hard, looking away from the scene playing before his stuporous mind. The violet hazes dimmed and the orange particles grew hazy as the spectral Rorschach gave the captive man his answer by shining a light down upon some sprawled orange thing, a hazy bulk of something that couldn’t be identified. The thing did not last long as the light was switched off; meanwhile the strain of tuning out the scene was too much for the real Rorschach to take. He slumped over again and tried again to get free of his bindings while lazily watching the dreaded scene before his eyes.

The captive watcher, forced to see his own memories play before him, could only weakly mutter, “What… is this?” None of the three girls heard him as the scene played on.

The scene returned to normal to show the portly man become apprehensive, his eyes contorted in anxious fear as he still gazed down upon the unseen thing that was sprawled out before. Slowly, the spectral Rorschach turned to look at the frightened man again, a low growl of malice coming from his being.

The man’s answer came, sick and twisted as some dark spark had snapped within his soul. Where there was once fear and barely contained panic, there was now a sinister and vile smile. “Okay,” the man said, lazily and almost flauntingly.

“I confess, I kidnapped her, I killed her. Arrest me.”

In that moment of silence, Rorschach's body twitched violently as a cord in his mind was struck with merciless force. His stoic form began to tremble, his breath became haggard. The mask he wore stared down upon the being before him; the inkblot quaked into a violent miasmic cloud, like God’s wrath preparing to strike down from the heavens. His hands trembled with a slowly awakening rage brought on by a horror, this disgusting revelation that no human mind could take and remain sane. Then a virtuous thought crossed his mind, an image of the murderous device that still lay just within his reach, and something in him snapped. Behind the mask, a horrible smile crept upon his haggard and dry lips and a sadistic twitch struck him, allowing the sounds of devious delight escape his broken mind as muted and breathy laughter. What was once a human being, broken by the realization of the nature of the demon that lay helpless before him, knew now what had to be done. The captive man took notice of this sudden change and the dark spark that had fueled him before was shattered, voice trembling he spoke again, “What? Arrest me.”

The ethereal Rorschach didn’t answer. He turned away from the evil man and stepped away. Something unseen caused the captive’s voice to grow desperate as he continued to cry out, “I did it. I said I did it!”

With a dissonance as startling as lightning, the sound of a blade being pulled from its sheathe was heard, and the look of pure panic that first held the murderer’s heart thundered once again. “Christ.” He said, his voice hollow from terror as sweat began to bead from his portly forehead. Slowly, Rorschach turned around; a wicked cleaver gripped in his hand as the murderer frantically began to beg, “L-look, I got a problem! Fucking take me in, I need help!”

Twilight gasped at the sight of the vile and stained cleaver. She grew pale and covered her mouth with her hooves, she wanted to turn away, but fear kept her focus locked onto what was going to happen. Applejack was shaking badly, watching with tearful eyes as her savior became a demented wreck. The shiver down her spine was back, she felt physically sick yet compelled to watch.

Only Trixie wasn’t watching what was going to happen. She already knew what this was, Rorschach had written in his journal about this as a repeated dream. This was Grice, the monster. She was watching the real Rorschach instead. Aware now of what was about to happen, the real Rorschach cried out, “No!” as he began to thrash within his bindings with renewed vigor. Startled by its owner’s convulsions the memories burst and the orange glow became hazed and confused, yet the voices did not go away. “Mustn’t see this!” he said, trying to speak over the scene. Applejack managed to snap from her fear induced state and jumped up. She started to rush to Rorschach’s side but the ethereal one stood in her way.She was stopped from moving any further into the cloud by a rusty and evil looking cleaver in the the vigilante’s hands. She watched as it rose up above his head, but before it could be brought down the scene disappeared, yet the voices went on.

“NO! DON’T, DON’T DO THAT, TAKE ME IN! NO! NO!”

A sickening strike was heard, a sound that could only be compared to the first cut into an overripe and decayed melon. A hollow and shaky voice, Rorschach’s voice as they knew it, spoke between gasps from within the violet haze.

“Men… Get arrested… Dogs… Get put down.”

Applejack shrunk away from the violet cloud, she shied away from the real Rorschach that lay just across the violet cloud. Tears stained her cheeks and it took all her focus not be physically sick. Seeing what had happened pushed Rorschach to get free of the binding but his mind was still hazy, his motion clumsy and dazed. He still didn’t understand what was going on but there wasn’t time to ask how, merely how to stop it. The hazy cloud sensed his stirring and it seemed to grow more frantic.

The next scene played forth in urgency. A man cried out, the sound of breaking glass was heard. The orange orbs quickly shaped into the kneeling form of Nite Owl, with Rorschach standing over him. It was raining.

“Weak!” Rorschach shouted suddenly and violently to the kneeling figure before him, causing the three to jump in shock and terror, “You always have been! Never able to do what was necessary for justice! Naïve and weak!”

Hearing the hero say this, the trembling Twilight could only remember what Trixie had quietly said before, Nite Owl was his only friend.

A silence fell as the words sunk in and the rain continued to fall. Nite Owl didn’t turn to look at his accuser; he could only stare at his trembling hands as he finally spoke, “This isn’t justice. You won’t make the world a better place… not like this.”

The spectral Rorschach turned and walked away but his voice carried through the dull roar of falling tears, “Watch me.”

The orange aura turned to a chaotic storm of confused scenes and tumultuous emotions, all playing at once through a crowd of distant voices. One voice stood out, speaking out from the visage of a vigilante standing upon a rooftop staring down with distaste.

“On Friday night, a comedian died in New York. Somebody knows why. Out there, somebody knows.”

Confusing scenes of motion and blurred light began as every memory spoke at once but again a voice sprang out amongst them all. A harsh, commanding, and grating voice that made the three ponies shudder.

“You people are a joke. You hear Moloch's back in town, you think ‘Oh, boy! Let's gang up and bust him!’ You think that matters? You think that solves anything?” It said as a tall human appeared from the chaos, one that wore armor and held a smoking rod between his teeth. In his hands was a strange thing made of metal, to Applejack it looked like a metal pipe with a pump underneath it. With joy the armored man pointed at something that lay outside the cloud and from the device’s muzzle a spray of fire gushed forth.

“It don't matter squat because inside thirty years the nukes are gonna be flyin' like maybugs... and then Ozzy here is gonna be the smartest man on the cinder. Now, pardon me, but I got an appointment.” The man disappeared, to be replaced with a figure in a trench coat looking down upon a rose covered grave as rain fell heavy from the sky. The spectral Rorschach knelt down and took one of the red roses into his hands.

“See you in the funny papers.” The voice echoed, yet it did not sound so amused.

Scenes of fire, a man slumped over a table, and a panicked Rorschach that hurriedly searched through cupboards. A fight, more fire as masked men charged forth from a stairwell. The crash of a window. A fall, a struggle, shouts and sirens, and in it all another voice arose vastly different than the harsh tone of the former. It was calm, frighteningly calm and even.

“They claim their labours are to build a heaven.”

A place of chains and cages, screaming apes that glared down upon the lone walker guided by ten guards.

“Yet their heaven is populated with horrors.”

The place of cages was on fire, shouts of terror and rage cried out from echoing hallways as the faceless Rorschach sat patiently awaiting destiny.

“Perhaps the world is not made. Perhaps nothing is made.”

A flying machine like the head of an owl. Nite Owl and a woman come to take Rorschach away.

“A clock without a craftsman.”

Rorschach drops a book into a mail slot. The flying machine takes off into the sky.

“It's too late.”

A place of ice, cold and unforgiving. Nite Owl and Rorschach desperately fighting another man. A massive hand reaching down from the sky and barely the man escaped its grasp.

“Always has been.”

Scenes of destruction, craters in the earth, skeletons in streets.

“Always will be...too late.”

The storm calmed and the scenes fell to a shining white star in the middle of the violet cloud. Slowly the overbearing brightness dulled as white specks of light fell from above like snow. The specks of light fell steadily, silently, down onto the floor where the white light had sunk down to. The light grew to the very edges of the cloud until no purple haze remained; there was only whiteness, quiet like the snow. The peace was disturbed though by the sounds of a footsteps crunching into the freshly fallen snow.

Rorschach, a very solid and detailed one, appeared with hands shoved into his pockets and urgency in his steps. His eyes were focused ahead, determined to be away from where ever he was. A white mist blew forth from his mask with every breath, a testament to the cold he braved and failed to keep out. A bright azure glow caused him to stop.

Standing in his way was a man, glowing blue, a being that could only be compared to a god. The mortal silently noted how the indestructible man did not even disturb the snow beneath his bare feet.

The azure unicorn felt her heart catch in her chest. Rorschach’s journal, he blamed his death on a being called Dr. Manhattan, a human god. It wasn’t some dream he had, nor was it a loathing like she had for Twilight Sparkle. This is where it all happened.

“Out of my way. People have to be told.” Rorschach angrily told the god.

Dr. Manhattan did not react. His face remained the perfect mask of emotionless neutrality. The two stared at each other, both already knowing how this would all end. Neither even acknowledge the bystander, of the three, only Nite Owl didn’t know with certainty how this would end, he couldn’t realize that he bore witness to destiny, an ending that had no other alternative.

“You know I can’t let you do that,” he stated, his voice so lacking in emotion that it was not even a threat but rather he said it as a fact.

“Suddenly you discover humanity? How convenient.” Rorschach sneered.

The hydrogen man blinked, a simple act that ever broke his composure, the single genuine sign that some emotion lay in his calculating and all seeing mind. Silently the two stared at each other for a moment until Rorschach lifted his hands to his face. Swiftly he tore off his hat and ripped off his mask.

What they saw caused the girls to collectively gasp of shock. Rorschach’s eye were red and the faint glistening lines of half frozen tears were on his cheeks. He looked broken and yet he refused to stand down, unwilling to compromise himself through his emotions.

For a moment he tore his gaze away from Dr. Manhattan to watch the snow fall, he breathed in the chilling and liberating air without constraint. Despite himself he exhaled shakily, no man could stay unafraid of his destiny or the inevitable fate that all men must face.

Turning back to Dr. Manhattan, Rorschach spoke, “If you’d just cared from the start, none of this would have ever happened.”

Again the azure man’s eyes flickered, a brief and weak sign of emotion, “I can change almost anything.” He paused, “But I can’t change human nature.”

“W-what’s he talkin’ about?” Applejack’s voice cracked and she asked, scared of the answer she might get. The two unicorns at her side didn’t answer. Twilight had already deduced the answer but she’d lost her voice and couldn’t say anything to her honest friend.

Tears fell from the old vigilante’s eyes, his nose watered as he tried his best to keep his composure even in the face of destiny, “Of course. You must protect Veidt’s new utopia. What’s one more body amongst foundations?”

The neutral mask, the parody of a human face, briefly flickered. For a man who remained so abashed by human life, the slightest flickers of hesitation in his eyes were clear to see.

Rorschach did not falter, his lower lip trembled as he forced the words of his own demise out, his voice a plea to the indestructible man, “Well? What are you waiting for? Do it.”

“Do what, what’s he talkin’ about?!” the orange mare all but yelled.

Dr. Manhattan still hesitated, a puppet playing his part yet knowing the ending to the play.

“DO IT!” Rorschach screamed.

Quietly, like a whisper, Dr. Manhattan spoke, “Find peace, Rorschach.” Slowly, almost lazily Dr. Manhattan lifted his hand, he had only to wave his hand in the air to bring an end to a life. Time slowed down as the spectral Rorschach looked down upon himself to see his feet burn away. His hands rose up to his face, he watched as the flesh was blasted away so that he could see his own bones. A light exploded in his chest, a light so bright it blinded the scene like a miniature blue star.

“NOOOO!” Nite Owl screamed out as the cloud fell apart and the real Rorschach was free from his own tormenting nightmares.

Rorschach stopped his struggling; he could only stare at the spot where his own death had been played out before him for a second time in his life.

Of the three horrified ponies, it was Trixie again who broke herself away. Slowly, she stood up and blinked back the tears that were threatening to spill out from her eyes. Without a word, she approached Rorschach and coated the rope in a violet aura. The rope fell apart and lay upon the floor as Rorschach stood up.

Slowly, the azure unicorn backed away, unsure of what Rorschach would do. His hands clenched into fists, but he didn’t seem to have the energy anymore to be angry. He could only stare, dumbfounded just as they were, at the spot where his spectral self died.

“Invaded my mind. Shouldn’t have seen that. Shouldn’t have seen any of that,” he said harshly, his accusations pointed at Twilight Sparkle. Hastily, he turned to the door and swung it open. Even Big Macintosh was quick to get out of the man’s way upon seeing what mood he was in. Without pause he stepped out of the tree library. With hands shoved in his pocket, refusing to look back, just as he did in the cold artic wasteland that he so vividly remembered.

“Rorschach wait!” Applejack cried out as she prepared to rush through the door.

She was forced to stop as Trixie stood in her way. The orange mare angrily glared at the magician, but the sad look in the azure unicorn’s eyes stopped her from speaking. “Let him go, Applejack. It is best that he’s alone right now.

“I’m sorry that happened, it was my fault,” Twilight said as she trotted over to the other two, “But was that what was bothering him? Those… memories?”

Trixie shook her head, “I don’t know. Lately his past has been bothering him… especially his…”

“His death,” Twilight finished, “We just watched him die.”

“But that don’t make sense! He’s alive and healthy, he ain’t… well he ain’t that!” Applejack said.

Again, Trixie could only shake her head, “Apparently he thinks he is dead, and from what he learned, the only way to be in our world is for him to be dead in his own.”

“So that’s how he got here.” Twilight said as she began to understand what Trixie was saying, the familiar words from her well-read textbooks coming to her mind. Suddenly, Twilight frowned, “Trixie, how do you know all of this?”

In response the showpony bit at her lower lip, her eyes darted to the two expecting ponies until slowly she spoke, “Well… he keeps a journal of all his thoughts and events. Trixie… might have read it.”

Twilight shook her head as she looked out the window. She saw no sign of the man, he’d disappeared from town already. Turning back around she looked to the azure unicorn, “Trixie, tell us what you know. Whether Rorschach likes it or not we should help him, but to do that we need to understand what is going on with him.”

The azure unicorn inched her way towards the tree library’s door, hoping to get away from Twilight’s scrutinizing gaze. The sound of the door closing again and an orange mare blocking her way caused her to stop. She laughed nervously as Applejack spoke, “Rorschach is my friend, now ah know all too well the dangers of being too stubborn to ask fer help. Please Trixie, tell us what you know.”

Defeated, Trixie gave a sigh, “You’ll want to sit down then. Trixie has quite a horrible story to tell.”

Night has fallen. I found myself back in that place at the edge of town where I first learned where I first had been betrayed by Dr. Manhattan. Sitting on a rock, I was turned towards the forest. The ugly stain I left on the tree was still there. The blood was gone but the bare and battered wood still remained. In the shadows, I could almost still see the fresh and grisly splattering of blood.

The tree had paid no heed to the damage I had done it. Its leaves were healthy and green, a great plume of life that rivaled and outgrew its neighbors. I was sure it had grown since last I saw it, my rage against it could only be compared to a single termite’s attempts to blindly attack it.

To think, long after I’m gone this tree will still live on. The scar on its trunk will disappear, the bark will grow back. It will be like my transgression never happened. Even after it died, its body would remain, it won’t decay so easily to the elements like flesh and bone. After death, it would continue on, with or without its memories.

What point was there now to dwell upon my memories? Was this what the afterlife was like, to forever dwell on the mistakes and events of life? How annoying. Perhaps it would be best to just let go and leave such memories in the dirt. Yet now it was in the open. My most private memories played right before me. It’s still all in a haze to me, even now my mind feels distorted yet the buzzing sound that has been plaguing me was finally gone.

I wonder now if they see me as the monster they first thought I was. The things I’ve done, what I’ve seen. My very presence I feared would kill the innocence that surrounded me, now I was certain it was tarnished by my hand.

I stand up and walk up to the tree. Gently, I place my hand against the rough grooves my fists made so long ago. I can’t go back now, but in some strange way I feel calmer now that those memories no longer bothered me. For some reason, I felt liberated and that made me happy.

Perhaps it was because I let my guard down in my happiness I failed to react quick enough.

From behind the tree, I barely registered the shadowed figure that stepped out. I could barely move before it swung a branch at me. The branch struck hard but before I could feel pain, darkness came for me.

I awoke slowly, dazed and confused, staring up at the starry sky that lay beyond the shallow canopy of the forest. The dots of lights were formless and my vision felt obscured, like looking through distorted glasses. I made a move to get up but my body wouldn’t respond, my limbs twitched and barely I could lift my head up from the ground. Like a weight was pushed onto my chest I could only struggle to try and get up. I stopped my struggling when I saw the abnormal shadow at the periphery of my blurred vision. It was staring down upon me curiously. Slowly, the dark bipedal figure knelt down to be closer to my level, balancing itself on the balls of its feet. It spoke to me in a voice that sounded too horribly familiar to me, yet I couldn’t put a name to it.

It smirked and in a masculine voice spoke down to me, “Hello Mr. Kovacs.”

[I envy those people who can keep track of a 10k word document. Again sorry for the huge wait but I think the next update will be much faster than a month. I hope the chapter itself makes up for the wait and if not then I'll remove my own pinky finger for you. So yeah this chapter was a long time workin' and overall I'm pretty happy with it. Might make minor changes but really I didn't want to keep you all waiting for tiny stuff.

Cheers, mates.]

(16) Chasing Shadows

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Chapter 16: Chasing Shadows

My blood chilled and my heart quickened. This thing had spoken my name, it knew my identity. I moved again to get up but the weight on my chest pressed me back down so all I could do was barely lift my chin up towards the dark figure that looked down upon me. My sight still remained blurred and my mask felt heavy and cumbersome. I was having difficulty breathing through my face, and this seemed to please the figure as I could barely make out the twitch of his lips as it formed a cruel smile.

I couldn’t understand what was happening, I was panicking but my body didn’t react to my commands to move, to get up and face this thing. No not a thing, this was a man, I knew it was yet I could not see his face. I knew his voice though; I have heard it before, so many times in my former life. Why couldn’t I remember whose voice it was? I knew it but couldn’t place a name. I knew the voice but when I tried to see a face, all I received was a blur.

The figure chuckled, a cruel laugh that took delight in my struggling. The familiar voice spoke then but it sounded distorted and uneven, syllables too stressed to be normal for human speech, “Walter, Walter, Walter. You disapPoint me; here I thought for sUrE that it would be so much hArdEr to gET your at-tention.”

He hefted up the branch that he had bludgeoned me with and smirked, “But…. I supPOse it’s like thEy say. Sometimes all you nEeD is a really big stick.” He looked down upon me, the glint in his eyes showing his disappointment, “To get… the point…. aCross.”

The shadow thing disdainfully tossed the branch back onto the soft ground, and pointed a blunt finger at me, only inches away from my face. “You… Have been IGnoring me, Mr. Kovacs. I do not like being ignored.”

My confusion quickly turned to dread as what he meant sunk in. This voice was from my past, I was sure of it, but now, I realize how recent this voice has spoken to me. This dark figure was the strange voice that has plagued my mind. He was the one speaking to me from beyond that dreaded sound that crippled my thoughts. This man was the voice coercing my thoughts and influencing my actions. He was the one that has been tormenting me.

Somehow the dark figure sensed my insight and smiled, “ThEre we are, that rEcoGnition I was hoping for. You have been bOtherSome as of lAte, reFusing to listen to rEason, and preTending to be someThing you are not.”

“What?” I managed to weakly rasp out to the taunting thing.

It laughed in my face in responce, “You’Ve been lYing to yourSelf, Mr. Kovacs. I have seen you with those…. colorFul thIngs. You, acting like a pErson, and here I thought you didn’t lie. Did you hope to fOol yourSelf, thinkIng you can fit in to this plAce?”

He smirked then and went on with his biting tone, “You’re just a mad dog, Rorschach. A raBid animal begGing to be put down.” I try again to move myself, struggling against the invisible force keeping me down, and the mocking voice continued, “That makes you anGry doesn’t it? To be coMpared to a dog, but we both know it to be truE. A flEa ridDen mutt born in a cessPool who finds himself in someone eLse’s yard, it makes me wonder why the owNer has noT come out to put you out of your mIseRy yEt.”

“Who are you?” I scowled back, trying my best to ignore the petty insults he spat. This man had a motive but it seemed he’d rather watch me squirm first. The reasons of why or how he was here were pressed into the back of my mind, however, by a single question: what did he want?

“I?” The dark figure asks this question with some apprehension, as if it was something so obvious that I should already know about it, “I thought for sure you’d reCogNize me, but then agAin your mind has been going soft, that being the reason why you and I became at odds in oPinion on those colorFul thIngs.”

“They’re… not things.” I tell him.

“Oh?” Again the question seems foreign and strange to the dark figure, “Then what are they Mr. Kovacs? Certainly not human, no, you said so yourSelf that they were fAr too innoCent to be human. Without sin is what you think they are, am I right? And because of that, you grasp at straws, trying to find their faults, being blind to the oBvious.”

The obvious? “Why are you here?” I ask him harshly.

“Hm? I’ve always been there, Walter. I never left, but was foRced to bide my time watChing you make a mocKery of yourSelf.” He sees my hand get closer to his leg and promptly steps on it. I cringe as his boot digs into my hand. “You think that you can make a life for yourSelf here? You’re a broKen thing, Mr. Kovacs. A twiSted and gnarled old muRderer is what you are. How often have you looked upon these thIngs you call inNocent and thought of ways to kill them? StaRed at the most miNiscUle of objects and imagine what damAge you could do with them. Yes,” he hissed, “you think about it all the time and yet the man who never compromises refUses to act.” He moved his boot off my hand and sighed, “Well then, I guess I have to correct it for you.”

“No!” I shouted as I felt his hand grab at my mask and rip from its place. With my mask gone my vision is clear and I can see my attacker in the full moonlight.

My eyes widened. The dark figure, he looked just like me.

His jacket, the scarf, and his pants, they were exactly like my own. I was staring back at a reflection of Rorschach down to matching blots of grime that marred my coat, and now he was finishing the mockery. The dark figure placed the mask over his face and found that it fit perfectly for his face. Reaching down next to me he took my hat and mockingly set it upon his head like a crown.

“I’m here to put things bAck in order, to corRect your mistakes. UnderStand that I’m doIng this for your own good, Walter. Those colorFul thIngs, those small hOrses, they’ve seen your face and they know you too well. They have to be deaLt with, we both know iT, and if you won’t do it, I will.”

He smirked, “I’m going to ruin your shalLow little life, Mr. Kovacs, and you’re going to lie here and let me do it.”

He stood up and regarded me once more from his higher vantage point. The inkblot within the mask formed a cruel smile to show what lay beneath the guise. I heard him smirk again and I listened as his soft footsteps disappeared into the night. I continued to struggle, my heart racing at the thought of the danger that was approaching those that I’ve befriended. I chastise myself for allowing them to do so; no good could come of it and now they were in danger. From afar I hear the footsteps quicken to a run and the weight is lifted off my chest.

I shoot up and feel at my face, flesh and sweat. My face was gone, the identity of Rorschach had been taken from me and I was left as Walter Kovacs. I couldn’t dwell on the terrifying thought. I stood up shakily, still under the effects of whatever hex the other man used to keep me still. Wouldn’t do as he predicted, won’t lie here while he endangered the innocent, masquerading as me by stealing my face.

I follow the side of the building that I was behind, hugging the wall for support to get away from the cove that was no longer any sanctuary to me. The world spun around me and comforting shadows turned menacing to me. Clutching the corner of the wall I scanned the road in search of my enemy.

There he was, turning the corner towards Carousel Boutique, he was walking again in the same way I did, with hands in his pockets. I sprinted after him, turning the corner sharply down the road he had taken. He was running again, I could hear his laughter against the howl of the wind as I ran after him. Down the road I nearly stumble and for a moment take my eyes off him. It was only for a second I turned away from him yet he was already at the boutique’s door. He turned slightly see me, the inkblot smile still on the mask as he took a hold of the door’s handle and opened it. I cursed these ponies and their trust to leave their doors open.

I start to run again after him as the door closes without a sound. I wasted no time following his example and instead broke the door’s lock as I forced it open with my shoulder. The door splintered and crashed as it swung inward. I scan around the boutique’s familiar downstairs but see no sign of the doppelganger. A shadows moves up the stairs and I’m already after it. He was upstairs, I knew it. He was going to kill Rarity.

I open the door to the drawing room, the same drawing room where I made the grisly killings of the diamond dogs. I step inside, my eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness. A sound from further in the house catches my attention, and the distraction cost me. The door behind me slams on its own and I turn just in time see the dark figure’s fist meet my vision. I reel back from the strike and the intruder pressed with the attack. I feel a gloved hand tighten against my throat and I was pushed backwards, colliding with the array of mannequins and knocking the contents off the far shelf.

For a moment my vision turns black but I will myself to keep awake and slowly I recover. I look up and see the fake Rorschach with a foot upon a chest that had been pulled forward to the center of the workshop. I recognize the trunk quickly.

The doppelganger gestures to the trunk and speaks again in that taunting and strange tone of his, “She cleaNed it you know. Found the stAin and simply couldn’t let it sTay, but we both know it’s still thEre, the stAin left here will never waSh out.” He removes his foot from the chest and approaches me, “We both know what kind of thIng the one that liVes here is. PomPous, shAllow. She hasn’t experienced the burden of the world or understands the meaning of sufFering. Worst of all she thinks of herself as a ‘good person’, as someone worthY of aDmiration or resPect, how utTerly arRoGant.”

I got back to my feet and felt the shelf behind me slightly rock, giving me an idea. I move to the shelf’s side and pull it towards me, bringing the great wooden shelf down with a crash. The dark figure reacts by jumping back out of the falling furniture’s path just as it came crashing down. A light was turned on from a nearby closed door but there was no time for another distraction. Taking my new advantage I lunge at the figure and he ducks out of the way, making me collide with the workbench.

In the darkness I saw a glint of light, a pair of shears lay near my hand. Picking it up I turn around and slash at the figure, he dodges quickly and smoothly, like a shadow. Each punch or slash I made met nothing and always he disappeared before I could fully grab him. Not once did he make a move to attack me, he merely grinned as I lunged at him, accidentally ripping up dresses and fabrics as I went.

“Too slow, Mr. Kovacs.” He mocks me as I miss again. Grabbing my arm the doppelganger forces me to lose my balance and collide with a large mirror. The cracks in the mirror made a spider’s web but through the blurry reflection I could see the shadow opening the window. I turned just in time to see him wave at me as he jumped out. I got out from under the mess and the door to the workshop opens.

A dishevel and shaking Rarity stands in the lit door frame. Her fearful eyes turn to horror as she saw the damage to the workshop, “What in the world!” she shouted with dismay, I didn’t care, that thing was still free. Ignoring the damage to the workshop I move to the window and force it open. Doing just as the shadow did I jump out, leaving behind the dismayed and shouting mare that was left with a destroyed livelihood and home. I had to stop that fake Rorschach before he did any more damage, before he could hurt someone.

I tumbled into the bins of garbage and land upon the unforgiving ground on my hands and knees. I jerk my head up just in time to see the shadow sliver away into another road. All the lights of the boutique were on now, making it easier for me to see the figure move. I give chase, ignoring the pain in my leg taken from the bad fall. There wasn’t time to slow down, not while he lay just out of my reach.

He ducks into Sugarcube corner, silently opening the door and closing it like a thief in the night, and I follow soon after, uncaring for the damage I’ve done to the door. A pair of alarmed cries immediately gives the alarm of my intrusion in the night. Good, let them be awake, less chance this stalker could do them harm. A sound in the kitchen catches my attention. Cautiously I enter, my hands already formed into fists.

I find the figure leaning on the counter, next to him was an old cast iron furnace. The grating was open to show the old ash still in it, it looked more for novelty than for use. The figure smirks and gestures lazily to the furnace, “This brings back meMories doesn’t it, Walter? I’d say... you could fit a small child in here, don’t you think?”

His voice set me off. That condescending tone he used to refer to the girl that haunted my conscious. I struck at him and again he fluidly moved around my strike and slammed me against the counter. “There’s that aNger again! See how little it takes to set you off?” I hear a drawer open, “ShAme they don’t have cleavers, it’d be appropriate wouldn’t you think? To feel that faMiliar weight in your hand again, the setting is a bit colorful but a little blood would add a more… contrasting color, make it more comfortable for you to see.”

I viciously turn around, pure hatred in my eyes as I watched him slowly and casually back up. The inkblot of my mask upon his face still formed that crooked grin. I charged him and again he steps out of the way and sends me crashing into an assortment of pastries and cakes. “Now this thing that liVes here is interesting.” he spoke, “So strangely happy and emPathetic, it makes me sick. Though I’m sure we’ve both felt that familiar glint in the back of her mind. In the way she acts, the rare times she’s silent, it’s hard to miss with eyes that big and knowing what you’re searching for. She has a certain madness, an insecurity, very similar to… well to you I suppose. How interesting. You think it’s possible that she would crack too just as you did? I’m curious if you push her far enough how far she’ll cling to that little crevice of insanity, and I wonder what you would do if you were there to see it.”

“Would it be so easy, Mr. Kovacs?” he asks me as his grip clamps down on my throat, “Just like any other huMan who’s gone mad, hm? A slip of a knife through the ribCage, a vioLent twist of the neCk, or perhaps that cleaver if you feel nosTalgic, would you be able to do it or would that growing paraSitic conscious of yours get in the way?” His words make me sick but with the lack of air I could only clumsily grasp at the arm that was suffocating me. Strange, his coat didn’t have a familiar texture to it. It didn’t even feel solid...

The shadow lets go and moves out of the way as I lash out, gasping for air. He slips out of the kitchen, blending into the darkened shadows, and leaving me to stumble into a chase while still grasping at my neck from where he had clamped down against my windpipe. The lights go on then and blind me, I have to put a hand up to shield the burning light from my hazed eyes. There’s a gasp and some stuttering as my eyes adjust and I open them. I find my way barred by a shadowed quadruped. I stumble back out of surprise and the other does the same out of fear. He was a stallion with a yellow coat and orange mane, unfamiliar to me and yet I can recall vaguely the description mentioned to me.

“Wh-what are you doing here? Get out!” He shouts in terror, and anger, trying his best to glare at me for the sake of his family. I can see a mare upstairs, the look she gave....

He was in my way though, had to give chase, nothing else mattered but getting rid of that impostor before he harmed anyone. I shove him out of the way and he stumbles to the ground the mare at the top of the stairs cries out, “Carrot Cake!” I run for the door, the lights from Sugarcube corner flooding out to the square outside.

The town is awake now. Lights in every building flooded into the darkened streets to give light to myself, like a deer caught in the headlights of a speeding car. Awestruck and fearful citizens look on from windows and from doorways as I run past. I caught sight of several fearful glances and terrorized eyes but I don’t care. What mattered was getting the doppelganger before he could hurt someone.

The dark figure leads the way, just out of my reach but within my sight. He was mocking me it seemed, goading me into following. The thought of a trap crossed my frantic mind, there was little doubt who was in control of the situation. The dark figure barely needed to strain himself to keep met at a distance, and the places he’s taken, the things he’s saying to me. Was this all a taunt, or was he making a point in all of this chasing? He did not seem set on killing anyone this night, but rather showing that he could. Our chase leads us out of town and towards the Everfree forest again. Using the moonlight to light my way I stumble after him. He stops on the bridge, turns toward me, and gestures past further up the path as I start to reach him, “look faMiliar?”

I didn’t need to look to see what he was talking back. I knew the cottage he was gesturing to, Fluttershy’s home. Smoke billowed up to the darkened sky, reflecting off the moonlight, I didn’t like the dark feeling it gave me.

“You diSlike this one.” He didn’t even need to run to quickly reach the front of the cottage, by the time I got to the bridge he was already going past her door, looking inside at the darkened cottage, “being around her makes your skin crawl, you feel like your soul shifts uneasily being around her.” He reached out to grab the handle but stopped short of touching it. Slowly his hand descended away from the offending object and he backed away from the door’s handle. The grin his face twitched and faded for a moment before returning, but it was quickly faltering.

Despite myself... something slows me down. Images of a murdered girl, fed to dogs crosses my mind. A red swing set in the purest of lights. The dark figure speaks angrily to me, to talk about Fluttershy was like tasting acid it seemed, “Is it beCause of how she acts? Remind you too much of the uGly little slum child you once were?” He pauses and glares at me, the grin on his face has shifted into a chaotic blur of ink, “No...no I think it goes deePer than that, deePer than you’re letTing me go but I see the afFects of her influence on you. She reeks of innocence, being around her is sufFocating to you.”

Some hidden insight seems to strike him and the grin returns as he turns back to me. He chuckles and points to me in a chastising manner, “Being around her makes you queStion your own resoLve, doesn’t it? How odd, I wonder why that it is. What goes on in that skull of yours, Walter.” I cross the bridge and ascend the hill with long strides. The figure makes no move to run anymore.

Instead he was clapping, waiting for me to catch up.

“BraVo, Mr. Kovacs! I didn’t have to do much did I?” He takes delight at my look of confusion and gestures behind me, “Can you hEar them? I sure can.”

It was dull sound to me before when I was running but now that I could hear clearly. The sounds of scared and dismayed people in the distance, the town was in a confused uproar over the rampage I’d taken in pursuit of my doppelganger. I suddenly realize now what he meant, what his true purpose was. I turned around to see the glow of the town in the distance, a usually quiet little place now left in turmoil thanks to me.

A sound caught my attention and I turn around in time to see my mask on the ground before my feet. The figure was retreating into the forest, his face still obscured by the shadows of the trees. “I really should thank that groTesque and sniVeling demi-god for giving me the chance to taLk to you, Walter, though knowing you... there won’t be much left to thank when you meet him.”

“You’ll be haTed now", he spoke with a hint of sadness, “you’ll alWays be hated, it’s just how things are suppose to be, Walter. You won’t believe me now but you’ll see it will be better this way. You can’t deny your nature, you’re just a mad dog waiting for an unmarked grave. All you need is... a push... in the right direction.” With those final words the figure backed further into the shadows and disappeared.

I rushed forward to try and catch him but it was too late, the figure was gone. Glaring into the shadows I see no sign of him, no prints in which to follow. I return back to my mask, blankly staring back at me. Gingerly I pick it up and feel it. It felt cold in my hands, even through the gloves I can feel the chill that my mask brought me. I look back at the town, my mask and identity back in my rightful hands, yet it isn’t relief that fills me.

A strange feeling overcomes me. An emotion I haven’t felt in a long time, I’m not sure what to think of it. Watching the glow of the town, rudely awakened from their happy dreams, I’m left with a feeling of anxiety. I’m left with regret for my mistake, like a dog I took the bait dangled in front of me.

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What now MOM! Come at me!

(17) Fear

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Chapter 17: Fear

Canterlot Archives Manuscript dated 40 BD (Before Discord), Author unknown, Journal Entry 21…

The hearts of men are difficult to comprehend, but all hearts are driven by man’s instincts, their devotion to the Lord, and their weakness to sin. Of all instincts that define a person, fear is the strongest. Men fear many things, and rightfully so. We fear death, we fear disease, but most of all we fear what we don’t understand. It is the new and foreign that puts a man’s soul upon the peripheral edge of courage and craven by shaking their resolve. Even I, a man devoted to the Lord, am not immune to this universal fear of the unknown that all of God’s creatures hold.

I find it as no surprise then that ponies share this fear of the unknown with man, and react in the same way as they do when confronted with a perceived danger that they do not quite understand. They may adapt quickly , find shelter with others or flee to safety, but even after the danger is gone and they realize a mistake had been made a prejudice of the unknown remains in their hearts. In closer words, they are like man in that they do not trust a new thing so easily. I realize this prejudice first hand, when I first arrived in this purgatory of sorts and even now I know that they will never be use to my presence.

Now that I am old I wonder if it would have been better if I’d fallen into the pits of Lucifer’s domain instead of this peaceful place. May God forgive my sin of pride for thinking I belonged here.

Prayer of the Day:
Deuteronomy 31:6
“Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the Lord your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you."

The pink pony sat in the remnants of the kitchen, her usually puffy mane straightened in accordance with the depressing scene that greeted her weary eyes. Flour strewn across everything, broken eggs littered the floor and counters alike adding to the mess that already covered the destroyed kitchen.

Outside there was the clamor of a nervous crowd, their voices coming like a dull roar to her through the oppressive silence that hung around the pony. She felt like crying but she wasn’t sure why, messes could be cleaned with little trouble, she made them every so often after all, and the cracked cabinets and broken carpentry could be replaced with ease as well. Even the ingredients just required a quick trip to the market. In all, the damage looked much worse than it actually was, so why was it that when she saw the remnants of the struggle that took place here she wanted to cry?

It was something about the mess itself, the way it was made was not by a happy accident or joyful carelessness. This felt like the remains of a struggle, an event of pain and confusion. Pinkie Pie was always perceptive of others’ happiness; it was part of her special talent. She could tell when they were unhappy and always she tried her best to make it better. This mess was different, even though it was only an echo of something she didn’t see happen. She got up and took several paces into the quiet kitchen to look at a particular spot where the powder was spattered with dark red dots that smelled foul. This was a different kind of pain, something that Pinkie Pie wasn’t sure she could fix, and the thought of that was what made her cry.

She gave the flour a light kick to obscure the stain, though she could still smell its evil stench she felt better now that she couldn’t see it. Quietly, a sullen Pinkie Pie walked out of the room, feeling so unlike herself, the situation not at all helped by the sounds coming outside.

“Hurry up, Twi! Somethin’s goin’ on outside!” Applejack impatiently pestered the lavender unicorn, again attempting to dislodge her from her furious writing. The quill scratching against the parchment only faltered for a moment to start a new line of words under Twilight Sparkle’s focused supervision.

“Just…a few…more.... sentences,” Twilight said over her shoulder, her eyes still focused on the paper and ignoring the exasperated orange mare and azure unicorn waiting by the door. The other unicorn matched Applejack’s anxiousness in going outside to investigate the strangely well-lit town, abruptly awoken during the night for some odd reason. The two by now had been waiting for almost ten minutes as Twilight was insistent in writing a letter to her mentor about something once Trixie had finished relating her story of Rorschach’s journal to them.

Huffing, Applejack stomped a hoof against the ornate wooden floor of the library, “you’ve said that twice now, sugarcube! If ya want to keep writin’ then the two of us will just go without ya.”

“Done! Alright let’s go, I’ll give this to Spike later when he’s actually awake.” The unicorn hastily said as she rolled up the parchment with her magic and set it down on the desk to be sent off later. Quickly she followed the other two out the door.

They promptly stopped when they noted the rather steady crowd passing by them to a large one standing in front of city hall. Some of the talk the three managed to catch from the crowd did not put them at ease as the word ‘human’ and ‘rampage’ was used quite often.

“So… what would be the chances that it was a different human than the one we’re thinking of?” Trixie asked.

“Slim to none Ah’m guessin’,” Applejack deadpanned right back at the unicorn, “come on, let’s see what all the ruckus is about.” Trixie and Twilight nodded in agreement and moved to follow the Earth pony, careful to keep close together to not become lost in the crowd.

Making their way through the townsponies they could see a tired looking Mayor Mare trying her best to keep order to the crowd throwing questions at her. Like the rest of them it looked like the grey maned pony had been woken up the same way as the rest of them and hadn’t bothered to fix up her mane in its usual style, even her glasses were slightly lopsided from where they were hastily put on.

“Gentleponies, please one at a time!” she reasoned to the crowd to no avail.

The questions and demands kept coming as the three ponies managed to push themselves to the front of the crowd.

“How can you tell us to be calm when a monster just tore up our town?!”

“What if it hurt somepony?!”

“How are we supposed to feel safe with that thing coming out of the Everfree Forest?!”

“The horror! The horror!”

It was then that a red pegasus stallion stepped forward, his cutie mark a yellow five pointed star. Around town ponies knew him as a former detective from Manehattan. Mighty Star, a brash and overzealous stallion who held a lot of respect from the townspeople of Ponyville. He shook his hoof at the Mayor and his loud, commanding voice rang across the crowd, “I say we shouldn’t stand for this! That monster has been nothing but trouble since the day he arrived here and no pony is doing anything about it!”

A resounding rally of agreement came from the crowd. Twilight, Applejack, and Trixie all looked to each other then, not at all liking where this was going. The red stallion wasn’t done yet, he spun around to face the crowd, his hazel eyes ablaze with a hidden anger, “this is our home and that monster isn’t welcome here! We should chase this thing out before he has a chance to do harm one of us, before he harms the ones we love, and to show him that we aren’t afraid of some human who thinks he can barge into our homes and wreck our lives!”

The panicked crowd’s voice started to join together then, what was once a cacophony of fear and turmoil began to unify into a sound of outrage and indignant discontent. Other ponies were joining along with Mighty Star in the rally to chase away the human that threatened their town. Mayor Mare saw what was happening, the sleep from her eyes gone and replaced with anxiety at the crowd’s swing of emotion, “now wait! Please, everypony just calm down and think about this!”

“No, Mayor Mare,” Mighty Star said, turning around to face her again, “we’ve been kind enough to let that thing live near us and this is the thanks we get, frightened families and a rampage through our happy town! The princess might have said there was nothing to be afraid of him but I’m sorry to say I don’t think she’s right!”

At that declaration some of the ponies in the crowd gasped, a lavender unicorn chief amongst the outrage of putting the princess’ judgment into question. Mighty Star didn’t notice and continued on with his angry speech, “that’s right; I don’t think the Princess realized how dangerous this human could be! Whether he tricked her or used some kind of magic to get her to trust him, I don’t know, all I do know is he’s caused enough grief!”

The indignation of the crowd doubled then to a loud roar of outrage and anger. It looked as though only three in the crowd remain uneased by it all the red pegasus stallion’s words. Trixie turned to Applejack and whispered harshly, her voice nearly lost in the crowd, “what in world is he talking about?! Rory can’t use magic!”

“He’s just tryin’ to rile up the crowd-“

“And it’s working,” Twilight finished for her friend, her eyes scanning the unhappy faces all around them.

“Well what’re we goin’ ta do Twi? This crowd is fixin’ to march right into the Everfree Forest to confront Rorschach, somepony might get hurt and he can’t go fightin’ a whole crowd!” Applejack quickly said, having to talk over a whisper now to speak over the crowd that seemed ready to grab pitchforks and torches with Mighty Star at the lead.

Twilight didn’t answer; her eyes were fixated on the front of Town Hall and Mayor Mare trying her best to get the crowd’s attention. Applejack looked to her friend curiously as the lavender unicorn started to walk wordlessly towards the front of Town Hall. Mayor Mare noticed Twilight’s approach, surprised by the fiery look in the young mare’s eyes. Backing away from her spot, Twilight now stood in front of the crowd. The deep breathe she took gave Applejack and Trixie fair warning to cover their ears for what was to come.

“EVERYPONY BE QUIET!”

The loud voice hushed the crowd and made some in the first rows closest to Twilight go deaf from her loud voice carried with the help of some amplifying magic. All eyes turned to Twilight who at first seemed a bit flustered and embarrassed to have the attention but quickly turned to a resolute expression. Loudly she spoke for all to hear, “now I know eveypony is frightened and upset but that is no excuse to start acting like an angry mob!”

“That sounds more like the perfect excuse to form an angry mob,” an azure pony said from the front row before the orange mare next to her shushed her.

Twilight ignored the comment and kept going, “I’m sure this is all a big misunderstanding, I’m positive Ror- I mean the human- I’m sure that the human wouldn’t just start breaking into ponies’ homes to wake them from their sleep if there wasn’t a good explanation behind it.”

“Oh?” Mighty Star asked sarcastically, now fully turned to face Twilight, “what possible reason could he have to break into ponies’ homes in the middle of the night to terrify them out of bed and break their belongings?”

Twilight’s ears went flat and she bit at the bottom of her lip, “well… I uh, I can’t think of a reason at the moment, but going and acting like a mob about it isn’t the answer.” Getting more confidence she glared back at the crowd, avoiding Mighty Star’s harsh gaze, “ask yourselves this then, do you really want to be marching off into the Everfree Forest in the middle of the night to hunt down a human that might be there or go home and back to bed and let my friends and I to handle it in the morning?”

Mighty Star turned and both he and the lavender unicorn looked expectantly at the crowd conversing with itself. It looked like no decision was going to be made until a grey pegasus with a blonde mane and crooked eyes jumped up and hovered over the crowd. With a hoof raised to the sky and a cheery voice she called out, “I vote for that second thing you said!” Several ponies started nodding to one another the crowd began to disperse with even more tired ponies returning to their homes.

Twilight Sparkle, Mayor Mare, and the two other mares that remained breathed a collective sigh of relief until they noticed that one stallion had remained. Twilight shrank beneath Mighty Star’s harsh sneer and Applejack watched him with her own glare, ready to jump to Twilight’s help if she needed it. When it looked like Mighty Star was about say something he instead grunted indignantly and stalked away in the opposite direction, back to his home like the rest of the ponies.

The four watched him leave and once Mayor Mare was sure he wouldn’t be coming back she looked gratefully to the librarian, “thank you, Twilight Sparkle. You really stopped a disaster from happening just now, but I really hope you know what you and your friends are doing about this human business. In the morning, ponies are still going to be scared about what happened last night and they’ll want an explanation for it all. Until then I don’t think Mighty Star is going to let this one go, he means well but he isn’t one to let things go so easily.” Twilight nodded, not answering Mayor Mare, she didn’t need to. The mayor excused herself then to, saying her good nights to the three mares before leaving them standing in front of Town Hall.

“So what are we supposed to do now?” Trixie asked.

Applejack’s answer was prompt, “well first we find Rorschach so he can tell us what’s goin’ on around here.”

“Yes, but where is he? He could be anywhere after going through town like that!” Twilight answered back.

“Well then we check his home in the forest, he’s probably back in that cave of his right now.” Applejack quickly countered, looking towards the direction of the forest.

Trixie in turn shook her head, “even if he is, Trixie doubts he’ll be in the mood to talk.”

Twilight nodded in agreement, “maybe it would be better to wait for more light to go searching for him?”

“It might be he’s still dealing with what happened today, in his own way, or feeling the affects of magic,” Trixie added in.

“Are y’all kidding me?” Applejack glared between the two unicorns, causing both the shift anxiously, “Rory is out there, maybe hurt or in danger and you two don’t even want to try searching for him?”

“It’s just until morning Applejack, if we try looking for him now we could end up lost ourselves. There’s no way we could find him out here at night, especially if he wants to stay hidden.”

Applejack still looked ready to bolt but saw the wisdom in Twilight’s words, rushing off without thinking had gotten her into trouble before and this might be the same thing. Rorschach wasn’t helpless, he knew how to handle himself.

Hesitantly the orange mare conceded, “first light tomorrow mornin’ we’re goin’ to look for him and get some answers. “

Twilight nodded in agreement, “and in the morning I think we can get more help from the other girls, and maybe even more with the letter I wrote.”

I sat upon the dirty ground in silence as bugs hovered in the air around me, my face lay in my hands, staring back at me with a shapeless and enigmatic look. My true face has always brought me comfort, with it on I knew exactly who I was and what my purpose was. It was a face to be feared and respected, vermin scattered at its sight and pariah fell to their knees begging for clemency. But that seemed like a different lifetime now, it’s as though an eternity had passed since last I step foot in murky alleyways that smelled of sewage and depravity, this mask hasn’t sparked that common link of fear in anything for just as long. And now it has, and it leaves me with a strange feeling of discontent.

I glance up from the mask towards the disturbed dirt in front of me. An unmarked grave beneath an alcove of gnarled trees, a slim layer of leaves scattered about disturbed earth to hide the occupants that lay beneath the ground.

I try to imagine what it's like beneath the earth. To have the worms feast upon dead flesh and broken bone, stripping away any trace of meat until all that remained were dirty pale bones. I try to see rotted canine faces staring back at me, that same shapeless and enigmatic look in their eyes just like the dead expression on the face that lay in my hands. I try, but all I see is a mound of dirt staring back at me, a mound of dirt that could hold anything beneath it even though I knew very well what was under there. But how could I know for certain, it’s just a mound of dirt with anyone underneath it. A cow killed because of rabies, two dogs who tried to be thieves, a man.

“You’ve been lying to yourself, Mr. Kovacs.” The shadow’s voice rang in my ears, as if he were next to me now talking to me again. “Did you hope to fool yourself, thinking you can fit in to this place?”

He... it, was right though, I don’t belong here and I cannot fit in. Perhaps it would easier just to leave this place for good, to wander into the Everfree forest until my legs can’t carry me anymore and I fall upon the forest floor. I hated that shadow for what he had done but what he said I knew to be true.

“You’ll always be hated,” each word that it spoke had been gnarled and twisted but they brought clarity to thoughts that have plagued my mind and hollowed my sleep, “it’s just how things are supposed to be, Walter.” And that name Walter, it felt foreign to be now, like it didn’t belong. Who was I now, what was I.

“You can’t deny your nature, you’re just a mad dog waiting for an unmarked grave.” My eyes bore in to the grave in front of me, a reminder of where I could or would be going to, “All you need is... a push... in the right direction.”

I’m tired of these self-reflections, tired of questioning myself and seeing the misery of my situation, and I am tired of complicating the lives of the innocent who should know better and leave me be. A man with too much time on his hands will see faults where none exists, but time is all I have now, and faults are all I see.

I laid back, moving my legs to lay outstretched and with my head resting upon the soft ground to look up to the stars above. I am tired of all these things, just so very tired of the weight that bore down upon my shoulders and back. Perhaps tomorrow it wasn't time for any self-reflection, just action on what to do with the time I was given.

My eyes closed, shutting out the moon’s light from my view and despite my turbulent mind I found myself slipping away. I fell asleep then, a restful slumber that came without dreams and without voices. There was only darkness, a peaceful darkness that I welcomed like a friend I have never met before.

Your vision fades from darkness and a scene of a roaring stone fireplace with a red overstuffed chair seated in front of it. Seated in the chair is a man of rather boring features with glasses set upon the ridge of his nose, his eyes are fixated not upon you but on the book in his lap. Elbow rested upon the chair's armrest his hand moves gently to a silent rhythm to move the fine magenta liquid in the wine glass he nursed in his fingers.

He looks up and sees you standing there.

"Oh! Bloody 'ell how did you get into my house? Ah that doesn't matter, I'm tripping on way too much acid to care. Seriously, I'm reading Dr. Seuss right now and its the most compelling philosophical argument I've ever read, that's how much acid is in me right now. Anyway, on to the more important matter of why you are here. You're probably peeved at me for my long absence and this rather small chapter to herald in my reappearance. To that i say I am sorry, and also that I shall make it up to you by making the next chapter longer and hopefully not take so long, I pretty much wanted to get this one out to show I'm not entirely full of bull, maybe 80% bull but not full of it. We're pretty much getting near the end of Rorschach's venture in Equestria, have a few more laughs, some more tears, probably some moments where you go 'Ex-Nihilos you dirty harlot how dare you write this trash'. Though just cause we're nearing the end doesn't mean I'm going to be rushing it, on the contrary I'll probably be taking it slow to be sure I get things just right.

"So that's what I got to say about that. On a related note on a blog I did for ideas to story ideas I should try out I got some very good one was a few that were so bad that I'm refusing to acknowledge those people anymore. You know who you are. Not sure what I will go with yet but one thing at a time I suppose.

"Well, that's it. Get out of my house while I think about what I have to do and how to keep up the expectations boring into my skull with this story."

(18) A Better Day: Part 1

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Chapter 18: A Better Day Part I

With some help editing by Imperius

Sun rays found their way past the curtains and onto the wooden floor just in front of the bed, warming the floor and letting the sleeping critters in their homes know that Celestia’s sun had risen. Outside the first of the earliest morning birds were beginning their songs, one in particular bellowing out a sour note that a timid yellow pegasus in the past had tried to correct but never seemed to get very far with.

That same pegasus was still asleep upstairs, buried in a quilted blanket and hugging one of her pillows that had found its way into her hooves during the night. Beneath her pink mane she wore a drowsy smile as her eyes moved beneath their lids, watching a dreamscape with rapt attention and still ignorant to light that crawled over the blanket towards her eyes.

The sun’s light finally reached them and despite the siren’s call of remaining pleasantly asleep the yellow pegasus slowly opened her cyan blue eyes. Instantly a part of her just wanted to shift away from the light and return to sleep to enjoy a dream she couldn’t quite remember. The sound of waking animals downstairs and a rooster’s crow removed such prospects, or in the rooster’s case shattered the drowsiness that plagued her mind.

Slowly she got out of bed, carefully putting the pillow back in its proper place and folding the blanket again to a perfect position with the edge nearest to the pillows folded over itself. Taking a glance out her window, Fluttershy was convinced today was going to be a good day. Only a few lazy white clouds were adrift in the sky and air had the crisp smell of dew that always stirred her for her morning routine of waking up.

Humming to herself she went about her daily rituals of brushing, combing her mane, and making herself a simple breakfast of a toasted muffin with apple juice and oatmeal. With her quick breakfast done the majority of her day began, taking care of her animals. Starting off in her house she gave out feed to all the animals that made their homes inside her own, that included trying to find something for Angel to eat. Luckily today the bunny settled for a large fresh carrot that he ate at the pace of a turtle, or rather slower than a turtle since the reptile had finished her breakfast of a tomato far faster than Angel did with the carrot.

Fluttering outside the yellow pegasus’ song had turned from humming to soft singing thanks to the good feeling she had about today. Greeting each of her friends that lived outside she fed them all. Scattering seeds for her chicken coop, water lily for a pair of beavers that were staying for a while, and more seeds for the many song birds that stayed with the musically attuned pegasus.

It was when Fluttershy began to drag the seed bag back around her house that she noticed something was a bit different than the usual hectic scene of feeding time. Dropping the sack carefully onto the ground she looked around her yard, mentally looking to make sure everyone was fed and happy. Birds were in the trees fed with worms, beavers chewing on sticks of yew wood, raccoons with kernel corn, squirrels hoarding acorns , bat asleep, butterflies flying, ferrets playing, human sitting by her fence, Angel in his little house…

Fluttershy stopped her thoughts abruptly, something was amiss with that mental checklist. Visually she went backwards, Angel in his house... and sure enough there was a rather familiar figure in a trenchcoat leaned against her fence. He was sitting on the grass, his back turned to her as he watched the small stream that passed by her home.

Something looked different about him though, since when did Rorschach have a red mane?

Leaving the bag of seed where it was Fluttershy took flight, gracefully flying closer to where the man was sitting. He didn’t seem to notice her presence and hesitantly she moved around to his left to see his face and to make sure she didn’t startle him.

Fluttershy hadn’t seen the human without his mask on, though sometimes she heard him refer to it as his face. What she saw wasn’t anything like imagination had made it out to be. For some reason Fluttershy imagined he’d look more like a dragon or reptile by his attitude, bipedal nature, and the short glimpses she got when he moved his mask to eat or drink, she wasn’t sure what she could compare his face to now that it was in full view.

Small sleepy looking eyes, a nose with a round end that jutted from a flat face, pursed lips, large but round ears, and freckles that dominated his gaunt cheeks. A stubble of hair lined his jaw and cheeks, a darker shade than the tangle of bright red, almost orange, hair on the top of his head. It was harder to tell his expression compared to a pony’s and despite her best effort Fluttershy couldn’t decipher the blank look he was giving. It was odd not being able to read his emotion as Fluttershy was able to read the mood of nearly any animal she came across and it was easy to read the mood of others from their eyes. Rorschach... the way he stared off into the distance he looked almost haunted. They were sharp and clear eyes but they were unfocused, as if he were staring at something a thousand miles away.

She glanced down when she’d gotten over the shock of seeing his face for the first time and noticed he wasn’t looking at the river like she first suspected, he was looking at the mask in his hands. She recognized it instantly, and knew something wasn’t right if he wasn’t wearing it.

Frowning she finally got the nerve to speak up to him. Coughing politely she asked in a quiet voice that was nearly drowned out by the sound of the soft babbling brook near them, “um, Rorschach, is something wrong?”

…

Silence was the only answer that came, a tense one that seemed to foretell the approach of storms. Fluttershy frowned anxiously, she probably wasn’t heard, not unusual for the timid pegasus, but speaking louder just might upset the human. The last thing she wanted to do was anger him, by now his rage was infamous with tales of tearing apart Timber Wolves with his bare hands and easily defeating the Royal Guards of Princess Celestia herself.

“Um… I guess if you don’t need anything… I’ll just leave you alone then,” she said even quieter, backing away slowly and beginning to turn around. She was about to fly away when his voice made her jump. It was a soft sound that was almost equal to the volume of her own voice, yet it carried none of the meekness she was known for.

“Need help with that?” I asked, still staring at mask. Couldn’t tear my eyes away from it, hypnotized by the swirl of blackness that spread across the mask’s skin.

The yellow Pegasus looked back to me and tilted her head, she didn’t understand the question and repeated cautiously, “help with...?”

I didn’t answer her promptly, motion felt lethargic and dreamlike, as if watching this all from afar. I turned my head towards her, and for once she didn’t shrink away from my gaze. Maybe because I did not glare, I was too tired to glare. Perhaps it was how I looked, downtrodden and harmless. I nodded slowly towards the bag she left behind, again spoke quietly, “that.”

“Oh,” she said in realization, casting her eyes to the ground to examine specks of dirt upon the path, quickly she answered as she tried to hide behind her pink mane. “Oh, no that’s alright I can get it,” she answered meekly as ever. I expected no less from her.

I turned back to watch the water in the stream pass by, not to the mask that lay heavy in my hands. Answered her simply, “if you say so.”

Gaining a bit more confidence the yellow pegasus approached again, tentative of my presence but growing comfortable with the silence and lack of eye contact. Slowly, she sat down next to me and for a time neither of us spoke, she being too fearful to speak while I enjoyed the silence that reigned. Around us, animals went about their own business, paying little attention to our presence. Birds took to the air with their melodic songs. To another man this would be a happy feeling to be here, a peaceful moment in time that let the seconds drag on, and the day’s worries could be lifted for just a moment. Where I should feel at peace, I felt nothing at all. I felt the sun upon my face but it gave me no warmth, the smell of morning dew fading away stirred no emotion in me, and the grass beneath me gave no comfort.

Time moved on, and it was I who hesitantly broke the silence by speaking softly, “should see your friend Rarity today. She’ll be upset.” Had to give my reason being here, best to be blunt.

Just as I expected the yellow pegasus sharply turned to face me. Could see her expression out of the corner of my eye, her anxiety of me slowly turning to worry at the mention of her friend. “Upset? What do you mean, did something happen?” she spoke urgently, her voice louder than it had been since she first found me sitting by her fence.

I didn’t turn to look at the mare, found it better to stare at the mask in my hands again than see the worry on her face. The inkblot looked to be in the shape of a mountain, hanging in nothingness. “Yes, something did happen,” I reply, “She’ll tell you more, would be good if you found the time to see her today.”

Fluttershy thought for a moment but her answer came quickly and with a determination that I privately found surprising and refreshing, “well, I don’t have much to do today… If Rarity needs me then I should go see her when I’m done here.”

A heavy sigh escaped my lips before I could stop it, “good.” My response only prompted Fluttershy to look again upon me with a curious expression, I could see out of the corner of my it held the fringes of apprehension. There was no need to let her know that my sigh was one of relief, with the timid pegasus taking my suggestion my plans for the future begins upon a good start.

“Um, if you don’t mind me asking, is something else wrong?” Fluttershy asked, the hint of worry evident now in her timid voice, this time misplacing her concern from her friend to me. Didn’t like the attention upon me.

My answer to her worry was blunt and unfeeling. I shook my head to be rid of her concern as I spoke, “nothing you need to worry about.” I stopped for a moment to judge the harshness in voice… and found it dissatisfying. I began again upon a much gentler note, “I am just… waiting.”

“Waiting for what…?” realizing how assertive her question was she quickly added in, “I mean if you don’t mind me asking…”

“You’ll see. My side of... events… doesn’t matter, your friends will explain it better.”

“Doesn’t matter? Why wouldn’t it matter?” The mare asked me, with the girl’s concerning nature I doubt she understood why my opinion wouldn’t matter. Too hard to explain, nor did I want to.

I tried to think of a proper answer that I could give her, one that wouldn’t hint upon what I was planning. I couldn’t think of one, not without it being a lie. I felt a frown curve my lips into dissatisfaction as I slowly stood back up. Grass stains still clung to my pants and mud was still splattered upon my shoes, I barely noticed how much nature has disgruntled my appearance into a mess. More important things than washing clothes. I looked down to Fluttershy who gazed at me curiously and fearfully, like I was about to give her some grand revelation to the reasons why I acted and how I functioned.

“One of your friends will tell you the news, but first you should go see your friend Rarity. Perhaps take her out to someplace she enjoys and away from her home.” I tell her. No disappointment came to the answer I gave her but rather she looked to be even more perplexed by what I meant. She tilted her head to me, a worried frown on her features as I passed her by.

“Oh, wait!”

Her shout was no louder than someone speaking into a bad receiving phone, but the change in volume was noticeable to the way this timid one always spoke. I turned around in time to see her flutter past me, quicker than normal but in no real hurry. It was my turn to look curiously at her as she disappeared into her cottage. Various sounds of searching and a disturbed cat echoed out of the cottage before she reappeared with a bright yellow cloth bag in her mouth.

Returning to me she offered out the bag to me, once she was free of it she explained, “the last time you were here I, um, noticed you really liked sugar cubes so I thought I’d just give you a bag of them… as a gift.”

I felt my brow raise in mild surprise as I untightened the cord that kept the bag closed to look inside. To my inner delight I found it filled with sugar cubes, much like the ones I’ve eaten in the past. “A… gift?” I quietly repeated, the word felt foreign to me.

Fluttershy blushed and tried to hide behind her pink mane a little farther but she answered, “y-yes, I thought with all the help you gave Applejack and the Cutie Mark Crusaders that I’d just get you something… to show my own appreciation… um, is that okay?”

I blinked, and shifted slightly. I was still uneased by this mare’s… kindness, and to receive a gift from her furthered that feeling. Thoughts of last night invaded my mind, words of a mirrored figure that taunted me . I quashed those memories quickly before they could surface again. “... thank you.” I answer her.

My simple reply seemed to please her as she stopped trying to hide behind her own long mane and gave a soft smile. Turning open one of my jacket pockets I placed the bag inside, careful not to crush any of the cubes. I’d would have to have one later. “Have to go now,” I tell her and started walking again.

“Oh, uh, okay. Nice of you to stop by,” she hurriedly said I passed by her. I made my way down the earthen path towards my next destination. Sweet Apple Acres.

“That was… odd,” Fluttershy quietly said to herself as she watched the human disappear from view. He felt different without the mask on, the timid pegasus couldn’t place her hoof on it but something definitely felt off with the harsh and menacing Rorschach. When he wore the mask he felt impersonal, mysterious even, but always distant. Without it... Fluttershy wasn’t sure how to describe it, it was like seeing the human for the first time.

Returning to her the bag of feed still on the ground she grabbed an edge with her teeth and started to pull again. Her thoughts now were occupied with the recent encounter, Rorschach’s features still fresh in her mind as she tried to compare it to any of her animals she could think of.

A sudden flash of rainbow colors startled her enough to force her to jump, crying out and ripping part of the bag of feed off with her. A cyan pegasus with a spectrum mane hovered above her, not even slightly tired by the speed she was traveling at.

Rainbow Dash called down from where she hovered, “hey, Fluttershy! Twilight is asking everypony who can to come to town! Apparently that human trashed Ponyville last night. Sounds crazy, I know, but… what’s up with all the seeds on the ground?”

Fluttershy sighed and spat out the piece of bag in her mouth, she looked down onto the spilled contents on the ground. Birds nearby started to collect upon the ground, pecking at the pile of seeds as she answered, “oh… no reason.”

It was just another quiet day on Sweet Apple Acres, unlike the rest of Ponyville the farmhouse had been spared any lack of sleep. The day began as usually with the assortment of chores that the large apple farm needed to have done. One of the fences in the south field needed to be repaired, the stalls in the barn had to cleaned, make sure the orchards were watered, and feeding the many animals.

Big Macintosh was up with the sunrise, just like every day. The only break in the normal was an owl he found sitting on the porch railing with a letter from Twilight explaining there was a bit of trouble going on in Ponyville and that Applejack would be helping to ‘diffuse the situation’. It wasn’t unusual, every so often (quite frequently) Applejack had events come up that took her away from the farm. All that meant was Big Mac would have to pick up some of the chores in her absence. He didn’t mind, a little more work never hurt, and besides it would mean extra chores for Applejack later on. With no concern in mind he continued on with his daily routine of washing up and getting breakfast ready.

Once food was served and the Apple family sat down to eat, breakfast became talkative though it was mostly one sided. With Applejack gone, Granny Smith did most of the talking while Big Macintosh nodded or inserted a eeyup or eenope where appropriate. Applebloom was out of her room but she didn’t talk throughout breakfast, she ate slowly and with a plate still half full she excused herself from the table. Around this time Applejack would tell the young filly to finish her plate before leaving, but Big Mac didn’t have the heart to reprimand his youngest sister. He knew she was still depressed, she was young and the idea of death presented itself too early for her. As she left both the big red stallion and the elderly mare shared a concerned look, time would heal Applebloom’s mind but it was difficult for them all to see her like this and to deal with the recent death of Daisy.

Clearing the dishes after breakfast, Big Mac put on his trademark yoke and trotted out of the kitchen. “Granny? Ah’m goin’ to get to work now!” he called out as he entered the living room.

As usual Granny Smith was in the corner of the room in her rocking chair, reading a book settled in her lap. The red stallion noted that it was a crime mystery novel, of all things. He recognized it as the adventures of a rough and tough Las Pegasus detective with a bright yellow smiley face badge. “Just be back by bedtime!” the old green mare called back to her grandson. Big Mac simply smiled and shook his head. The things his grandmother said.

Stepping outside and onto the farmhouse’s porch, the large red stallion could already tell the day was going to be bright and shining. The air smelled fresh and the ever present hint of apples filled his lungs as he took a graciously long breath in.

As he walked off the porch he noticed a shade of yellow and red out of the corner of his eye, just above ground level. Turning around he spotted Applebloom , her forelegs crossed together for her head to rest upon as she leaned out upon the window sill, looking out to the apples trees surrounding them. A miserable frown graced her features but the sadness had left her eyes, she was past the tears but she still clung to her sadness.

“Applebloom?” Bic Mac called up to his little sister. Slowly he gained her attention as she shifted her head to look down at him.

“Ah’m fine,” she said, already predicting what the concerned question would be.

Big Mac frowned, “well… alright, just know you have a few chores to do today, Applebloom.” A grumble of acknowledgement was his answer, it would have to do. Turning back around he continued on his way to the barn to get some tools to fix the back fence.

When he came back, pulling a wagon with planks of wood, a hammer, and a bucket of nails, he saw Applebloom had retreated into the house. Suddenly it didn’t seem like such a nice day in to Big Mac, he hoped something would break Applebloom out of her melancholy mood, but he wasn’t sure what could as he’d already done his best to explain to her what happened. He continued on his was at a much slower pace, his mind distracted with attempted plans to make Applebloom happy once more.

The sound of the rattling cart upon the dirt ground masked the muffled sound of the farmhouse’s front gate creaking open and shut.

Back home, Applebloom wandered around the farmhouse after seeing her big brother. She walked with her head facing the floor, memorizing the texture of the wood beneath her hooves and listening to the sound of each step she took. About fourteen paces from her room down the hallway the floorboard to the second most left creaked. She’d taken this stretch of space many times in her melancholy mood, she noticed these little features each time she walked.

It was easy enough to avoid Granny Smith, she never moved around much, and though Applebloom knew she cared she didn’t feel like talking. Quietly she walked down the stairs, careful of the fifth step up from the floor that creaked if a pony put their full weight on it. Once she’d passed that dreaded step she chanced a glance through the stair’s railing towards the old green mare sitting in her rocking chair. She didn’t stir from the book she was reading and Applebloom took that as a sign that it was safe to get to the door.

A quick patter of steps and she was at the door, it was simple enough to hold the handle down and slowly open the door enough to squeeze through. Just as quiet as before the filly closed it, convinced she was in the clear. Now all that needed to be done were the menial chores she had to do, after that everypony could just leave her alone to think about Daisy.

Turning around Applebloom started to walk off the porch, she stopped abruptly when she noticed she wasn’t alone.

I don’t know why I’m back here. I know what my purpose is, an attempt to make things right again, but now that standing in front of the farmhouse any idea of what I was going to say had slipped my mind like the last handful of sand falling through a funnel. I had the intention to talk, to try and make sense to a young foal that now sees me as bloodthirsty traitor, someone who tore away a dear friend of hers with an axe.

It should have been easy, children are simple things that only needed simple answers. Tell her that death is an inevitable part of life, everything that grows eventually meets it, and sometimes others meet the end before ourselves. I didn’t want to say anything elaborate, to try and be a philosopher attempting to comprehend why we must go into the abyss when our time is at an end, nor did I wish to tell her lies by making her think that everything in life was just.

Now that she stood in front of me, as we looked at each other, the words escaped my grasp. I shouldn’t be talking to her, I shouldn’t be the one to shatter her perspective of the way the world should be. Someone like me had no business with children, I wasn’t someone they should ever need to meet.

All around us the world was still in motion while we stood still. She was on the porch, looking up at me as I stood at the base of the few steps it took to climb the patio. I don’t think she fully recognized me without my face on. The white cloth was still clutched in my hand, the inkblots within pooled by gravity and the grip of my hand. Suddenly, surprise gave way to anger. Her gaze turned to a glare at me, a childish attempt at rage at seeing me.

“What do you want?” she asked me, venom dripping at the very act of referring to me.

My answer to her was simple, just as I planned it to be, but the authority of my voice felt subdued now that I was confronting her, “to talk.”

“Ah still don’t forgive you...you...,” her venomous words were stalled as she sought an appropriate thing to call me. She finally found one, “you monster!’

I flinched at the word, still staring at her as he glared back at me. Such simple word sounded grotesque when thrown at me by a child, and for the slightest of moments I was reminded of the voice of another little girl that I had failed. One who had died, and sat upon a swing set making crowns from daisies. Monster, a voice echoed, nothing but a mad dog... I was glad she didn’t notice how the word had struck.“I didn’t expect you to,” I told her quietly.

She continued to glare at me, trying to decipher my stoic expression and take in my features. She too had never seen me without the inkblot... at least I don’t remember as she seemed to scrutinize every feature and freckle I wore on this disguise. Without another word she starting to walk again, transferring her angry glare to the ground in front of her. She moved to the side as she started to descend from the porch, set on passing me by without the courtesy of another look.

“Hear me out,” I asked her, she continues on as if she didn’t hear me... but slowly her pace slows down until she’s stopped to glare at the dirt beneath her hooves. I went on, “I don’t expect you to forgive me, but at least hear what I have to say.”

The frown on her face deepened but slowly and begrudgingly she turned around and took a seat on the porch steps. I joined her on the steps so she wouldn’t be strained to look up at me. Once I was settled in I turned to look down at her. She still glared at me with that mixture of sadness, anger, and betrayal that I knew she felt. The words, what I needed to say, found me as I slowly started to speak.

“Sometimes… bad things happen. Things… that we never expect to happen to us or never want to come true.” Broken little thing, what do you think you’re doing? a hum hissed into my ear like a steam pipe.

“I didn’t want what happened to Daisy, didn’t want her to get sick... didn’t want to be the one to find her like that when it was too late to change anything.” Memories of a small girl’s burnt underwear in the furnace, marks of a meat cleaver, dogs gnawing on bones in the backyard torment my mind. I endure, not letting such past thoughts breaking what I had to say. “But bad things happen, no matter how badly we don’t want them to.

The creak of a swing set and a laughter of a small girl pushed passed that awful hum that burned my ears. “Daisy didn’t want to go but… there was nothing we could have done to change what would have happened.” As I spoke I could see her glare soften as she took in what I was saying, the anger still remained and there was silence as she thought over what I had said. Meager words that meant nothing, no matter how sincere. I should have known better, I was too callous to be the one to talk to her. Death to me was my dearest friend and my most hated enemy, to describe it to her in gentle words... I wouldn’t make sense.

I had given up and was prepared to leave when quietly she asked me, “What would have happened? If you hadn’t…”

Her voice trailed off, unable to finish her thought, and I didn’t blame her for wondering if there could have been another way. Had to wonder if her brother or sister had discussed what could have been. “If Daisy had gone on, she would have gone mad. Lost her mind to the sickness that plagued her until…” I left the thought trailing through the air before I went to far with my descriptions, “you shouldn’t need to hear about what could have happened.”

“But she could have gotten better!” She exclaimed, tears starting to well up in her eyes, “when you get sick you rest in bed and take medicine and eventually you’re all better again!” I looked to her, thinking of how to respond to such an... innocent belief. Perhaps I was a monster for breaking this naive perception of how the world should work. How long she’d been holding that in I’m not sure... but maybe I saw a glimpse of where her sadness stemmed.

I frowned, “there are some sicknesses that you don’t recover so easily from... and some that you just don’t recover from. What Daisy had…” I stopped to quickly rephrase what I wanted to say.

“Madness is a terrible disease. There are few things more terrifying than losing yourself, becoming something that isn’t you.” As I spoke... I felt a strange sensation. A warmth I could place, and the smell of distant rain. A small girl’s laughter greeted my ears and the humming was gone. The sudden thought that maybe... there was something in my own words that I needed to know, and yet couldn’t grasp. Blair... “Not many recover fully from madness and for Daisy… rabies doesn’t let you recover.“ I found myself saying.

“It isn’t fair.” She said this quietly, and I feel myself flinch when I hear not just Applebloom’s voice. Another subtle melodic voice trailed behind her own, it sounded like Blair... but that wasn’t possible. Had madness finally claimed me? I was hearing voices that weren’t there, it was just Applebloom and I, and yet... why did it feel like there was a third in our presence?

The shock did not wear off so easy, but I summoned the willpower to answer, almost breathlessly,“No matter how badly we want time to hold still, life goes on… And in this life, we have moments that are good and sometimes we have moments that are bad. These bad moments… we can let them change who we are, let it make us bitter and resentful, or we can move on and continue to be happy.”

The hum hissed in retort, hypocrite, liar, deceiver! You think it’s so easy?! Worthless little mongrel. Should never have been born...

“What can Ah do then?” Applebloom sobbed, and between the tears managed to speak, “Ah don’t want to forget her, but thinking about her just… makes me sad.”

“Keep on living,” I told her, with this I spoke with certainty, “It’s all you can do. Don’t forget Daisy but don’t focus on how she’s gone,” I tried to remember those old movies, what the wise man would say to the grieving wife or child. I was running out of things to say, “Remember instead the time you spent together. It gets easier-“

My words are knocked away as she broke down, hugging my side and burying her head into my coat. She crying but holding back the sobs... I don’t know what to do. I can never recall receiving a hug, never allowed anyone close enough to receive one. And yet here she was... I could see the tears that trailed down onto my jacket. some of the glitter she had put on it so many days ago still glistened with the tears. I watched her, I felt the confusion, uncertainty, and discomfort break my stoic visage. She had her eyes closed too tight to notice me, she was too busy clinging for support.

And suddenly that sensation returned, the warmth and distant rain. Applebloom’s grip around me tightened... it felt like someone else was hugging me at the same time. Someone I knew, my sign of madness. In my mind it wasn’t just Applebloom that hugged me, Blaire Roche was with her. My vision became clouded at the memories of near death, and how badly I wished I could return to its comforting embrace.

We sat there... I didn’t return the hug, I’m not sure I could. I didn’t like the feeling of being hugged, but at the same time I wanted to keep clinging to that strange warm sensation that held me in its grip… and looking down at her, I didn’t have the strength to tear her away in her need for comfort.

The hum was but a distant memory, a mosquito that drifted too close to my ear. She’s dead and it’s your fault, I’ll make you kill them all before I let you forget that...

I ignored it, pressed the idea of fear or hatred out of my mind as I reminisce on all that has happened. Daisy was gone, but she wasn’t forgotten. The Daisies Blair Roche weaved together, crowns to give to the repentant. Daisies... I’ve only seen them in flower shops as a child, a weed they called it. It wasn’t a weed, it couldn’t be... I placed my hand on Applebloom’s back. A hesitant touch before falling down into a comforting hand. I didn’t know what else to do... I didn’t know what else to do...

Author's Note:

The author sits in his armchair, now stained with unmentionable things. Most of his regal belongings have been boxed away by the repo man and he sits now sucking soda through a bendy straw from a extra large paper cup of Baha Blast from Taco Bell.

"So yeah, I'm a little bit back," He states, as if he hadn't disappeared for months like a little bi- "alright they get the point... anyway. Here's the next chapter with more feels than I first thought it would have. This was originally going to be a 10k+ chapter but decided to split it up as I'm having some teeny tiny trouble with the second half."

"No biggie though, I'll get it done on top of my financial issues!" The author exclaims as he stands up, a beam of glorious heavenly light shining down upon him. The lid to his cup slips suddenly, splashing the baha blast all over the floor, but the author is undeterred as he announced to his audience.

"If you guys have any spare food, I would gladly take it...."

The Flow of Time

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I am standing in a winter wasteland. Staring down at the blood stain that was once a man. The gore stood out against the pure unsoiled snow, and already the blood began to freeze amongst droplets of microscopic structures of water particles. Dan has fallen to his knees screaming. I can still hear the sound, but what is one more voice amongst a million dead I ask myself. There are no less atoms in the world than the day before. Try as my might, I cannot summon the will to care for all those lives lost. I remember the thought crossed my mind to comfort him, perhaps to say that Rorschach isn’t dead, I could have said he was in another place far away. He wouldn’t understand though. To this world he might as well be dead. Where the conscious goes is of little consequence when the remains of a body are strewn across the snow.

I am on Mars standing on a glass palace crossing over a desert of red sand and rock. Laurie has told me she has slept with Dan. I feel surprised and hurt, yet she is confused. She doesn’t understand, she refuses to see the world through my eyes. A tangled web of events, as linear as a spider’s web. I tell her I am a puppet, we all are, but only I can see the strings. Free will is a concept man has created to help them feel that their choices are their own. I am tired of these people, tired of their lives. I am tired of their cruelty.

No one is in control of their own fate. The clockwork is drawn. And I am standing behind Ozymandias in his stone palace- an Egyptian tomb off the antarctic shores. I wondered if it occurred to him that he could have died. Even the smartest man in the world isn’t without mistake. I remember thinking how easy it was to kill him, just as I had done with Rorschach. A callous wave of the hand and I could rip apart the bonds of particles holding his body together or cause the potential energy within his muscles to suddenly combust. I recall how that would accomplish nothing. Just another body in the snow to be forgotten, no one would remember it among the millions of dead around the world. I tell him I am leaving, perhaps to create my own life on some distant world. I know I told a lie, but at the time it was the truth. Like a puppet who plays his role I leave with a picture of nothingness in my mind. My part is done, the curtains are drawn, and Rorschach’s atoms were strewn somewhere to a place between dimensions.

It is Christmas morning and I am with Janey Slater. She is kneeling beside the presents, a hand resting over a red present beneath the Evergreen tree. Tinsel shone dimly in blue light. I approach, fondly looking down at her, knowing I would cheat on her with Laurie. The love for her was slipping away but I did not know it. Jon Osterman was slipping away and there was no getting him back. She says I am like a god now. I tell her I don’t believe there is a god, and if there was I am nothing like him. I am nothing like her.

I am in a place that isn’t my own. There is nature all around me. I feel the grass beneath my feet. The components of carbon, oxygen, phosphorus, nitrogen, and organic molecules are there in familiar sequences. Around me is the thick brush of a jungle, the sounds of birds and wildlife is loud. This place feels free and untouched. I know I am far from the planet called Earth. I look to the sky and find it blue. I see the orange star that gives this world light and I see two million and seventy-nine immediate reasons why it is wrong.

I looked to the planet’s sun, and I was there. The energy of countless atomic explosion erupt around me as I stand on the surface of a star. I look up to see the stars beyond the corona and flare. A blue terrestrial planet is millions of miles away yet I can see its landmasses in bright detail. Weather systems obstruct my view of green forests and wide oceans. Tall mountains colored tan and white like antarctic snow. I do not know where I am, but after looking and creating tens of thousands of worlds. I am intrigued and wish to watch.

There is nothingness all around me. The strands of all things are clear to me here. Dark matter is scattered like haphazard cobwebs in all directions for an infinite field of possibilities. Worlds appear and disappear in the blink of an eye. I see the beginning and the end in an instant. In the center of a black hole there is nothingness, but in this single point there is more matter to be harness in such dense power than any other event in the universe. I cannot help but stare in awe as I float through a sea of tangible time and elusive space. I know I have sent Rorschach through this endless ocean to a place I already knew about, but whether it would all be in one piece was a matter of how willing he was to live. Jon Osterman did not want to die that day in the Intrinsic field Subtractor. It was just a matter of reassembling oneself in the right order. He would end up in a place I don’t know about, and I will not meet him yet.

I am standing on a lush field of green grass staring up at the planet’s dying sun. I have watched as life adapted to its terrestrial existence. Small creatures at first no larger than a few meager hundred billion cells crawled across the ground and start to grow legs and chase after the more advanced insects. I observed and did not interfere as I watched the skies darken and lethal radiation leaked into the atmosphere. I expected it to last another eighty million years before it began to collapse. I do not expect the life on this world to last once the sun was gone and released its radiation across the surface. It was of little consequence if another world failed... And yet I felt this place to be special.

I am standing in a forest, developed from eons of evolution and natural selection. By my guiding hand the sun is bright and warm. Influence from Earth own Sol had guided my own hand, sometimes I am mistaken that I have returned to such a melancholy plant in a place where humans had yet to encroach upon and destroy. I have only to look to the dirt at my feet and see the difference in nitrogen and carbon to know that was not true.

I am staring down upon a blue dot hanging suspended from the invisible strings of fate and mathematics. It rotates at one thousand six hundred and seventy kilometers per hour, traveling around its single sun at twenty-nine point eight kilometers per second. The continent of Africa looks back at me from the lifeless moon. A hurricane moves slowly towards the panhandle of Florida. Soviet missiles are poised to strike upon American soil from Cuba. And the world continues to turn without concern. It is either ignorant the threat of total annihilation, or apathetic. For the time it took to recover from nuclear holocaust, what does it matter in the lifetime of a planet? To kill a parasite, it is sufficient to wipe the slate clean. It is better to create another experiment than attempting to salvage one that has already failed.

I am on Mars and Laurie has come to realize who her father is. I watch as her world shatters around her, reflected by the glittering glass that falls around us like slivers of rain. She falls to her knees, crying and helpless. She finally understands how I see the world, and she sees how the worst memories come to light.

I am watching as a blue planet turn without care. An artificial sun illuminates its continents, reflecting off its clouds, and shows the haze of a healthy atmosphere. I may keep this world moving and turning easily, yet I know I cannot shepherd this world’s rotation and motion forever. I am not a god, nor have I any interest in becoming one. To create life, that is a simple thing that requires only the basis of amino acids and the right conditions. To guide it into the future by an unseeing hand, that was not my place. I must find another solution to keep let this world live. I try to think of the moment I am in, searching a million possibilities in a matter of seconds. Yet I am distracted. Loneliness has taken its toll on me.

It is October, 1985. Rorschach has broken into my lab to warn me of a plot to kill masked vigilantes. He asks me to look into the future to see if I know the identity of the killer. I cannot, tachyons prevent me from seeing what was to come. Particles that traveled backwards in time, released by mass nuclear reactions. There is nothing I can do, but if I could solve the energy crisis perhaps there is a chance I might save this world. If two nations could cooperate then the threat of extermination is eliminated. With Veidt’s help, there might be a possibility that could save everyone. The most powerful man in the world, following the strings that bound him like any puppet should.

Eons have passed and clear ecosystems have appeared. Terrestrial fauna had taken its firm hold upon the planet, and with its presence a new dominant species has appeared in the blink of an eye. A species resembling Equus ferus caballus in distant form. Smaller in size though no less durable. Keratinised structures in the hooves have developed in a unique pattern allowing for the evolutionary replacement of fingers, entirely replacing the need for digits or thumbs. They’ve begun to use of holding tools with their newfound ability. At steady rate of increasing frontal lobe in hereditary patterns I expect increased intellect in several thousand years. I keep my distance, silently watching as I keep their world turning.

The Equus dominant species has separate into three subspecies with unique characteristics. First divergence appeared in cranial structure with single dorsal horn protruding from forehead. Curiously the bone protrusion generates an electromagnetic field. I assume it is a possible mutation due to environmental factors, further study is needed to understand the phenomenon. Second subspecies has developed wings, impressive flexibility has been observed in them die to a flimsy bone structure. An intricate muscular system has formed in the wings, further studies is needed to understand how the strange electromagnetic field appearing has affected them as well. The greater scientist within me overrides the apathy I’ve had for the evolving life forms. Curiosity and excitement I have not felt since my work in the intrinsic field center fills me and carefully I observe life in motion.

I’ve grown to understand why this planet felt special to me. A double entropy field, imagine two different forces of energy working together to hold matter together. One that works by fundamental properties, holding together the fabric of matter and time. Another, flexible field that the caballus species is able to touch upon to manipulate and use the world around them. With the use of electromagnetic spheres and the transference of potential energy they are, remarkably, able to command the very force of order and disorder. Astounding... And I must question if this is by natural occurrence, or a consequence of my own meddling upon this world. Should I stay longer would these fields become stronger or fall apart? I cannot begin to fathom the consequences of disturbing the forming balance between the two quantum fields. Perhaps it is time for me to leave this place before more harm came to it. There is a poetry in the universe, just as the laws of entropy dictate how all thermal energy deteriorates and crumbles over time, the long I stay in a place I create further disorder.

A pair of foals play in the forest, jumping from log to rock, shouting in a jumble of words that the forest floor was lava. They are brightly colored just as the rest of their kind are. A trait to show their dominance in this world, a mastery in their own way that did not come with the same kind of barbary that followed mankind. They are having fun, straying far from their homes to follow the fast flowing creek. Spring has come and the snows are melting. The current of the deceptive creeks is fast, and they do not see the danger in their games. One steps onto slippery wet rock and jumps away. The other soon follows, and inevitably slips into the water. By the time the first turns to see if their friend has caught up they are already being swept away to the current. I move my hand out towards them.

Walter Kovacs glares back at me, his mask crumpled in his hand in a mix of anger and failure. He faces his death with both feet planted upon the snow covered ground. He asks me to finish, I cannot let him leave Antarctica. If the world knew of what happened here today, millions of lives would have been wasted and a billion may follow in the war to come. Only we may know the lie, that there is no alien menace with their eyes set to destroy humankind. There is only the smartest man in the world, and his desperate act to save it. Rorschach could not live any longer, not in this world. I move my hand out towards him.

Coughing up water the foal shakes water from his dirty wings. He is uninjured, yet frightened of how close to death he had come. His friend stands over him, just as scared. She is the first to look up and see me. Fear appears in her large eyes and she backs away timidly, pulling her friend with her. I continue to stride forward. Her horn is pointed towards me in an attempt at defense, yet she doesn’t understand the intrinsic properties to remotely become a threat to me. I stop and stand before her. I tell her not to be afraid. She is caught off guard by my words yet quickly takes a stand again to defend her friend. The foal seems persistent to defending herself. Her friend stands beside her, looking up at me with silent awe. He understands I saved him, and slowly his friend changed her own stance to join him in curiosity when he explain. I could not be the one to make this world continue living. They would need to be in control of their own fates, not be guided by my silent hand. There needed to be inheritors to carry the burden of keeping their way of life alive, those more in touch with their own people. Someone to move the sun, and to move the world. Silently I reached down to them and a bright light fills them both.

Events I could not predict were set in motions. Entropy, the measure of disorder against order, moves just as time does. A web of bad memories and diverging events. We're all puppets in this life, and I had inadvertently cut the strings.

(19) A Better Day: Part 2

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A Better Day: Part 2

“Any sign of him?” The lavender unicorn asked the assembled ponies in her tree home. Twilight Sparkle stood before her blackboard where a map of Ponyville was hung. Notes and lines had been added to the overview of the town with Spike standing nearby with a notepad and pen to quickly add anything to the map.

“Trixie and Ah didn’t see any sign of him in the Everfree,” Applejack answered, gesturing first to the map on the board then to the worn out azure unicorn sprawled in a chair. Putting her hoof down she resumed her impatient pacing along the floor. Her face was set with determination and frustration that they still hadn’t found Rory yet.

“Zecora... hasn’t seen him... for two days...” Trixie managed to say between deep breathes. It was difficult to keep up with the orange mare that demanded they gallop everywhere in search of their human friend. This was the first chance the magician had gotten to sit down all morning, she tried her best to savour the moment that her legs didn’t feel like they’d burst into flames.

Next to the exhausted Trixie bounced a pink pony that answered Twilight happily, “I didn’t find him in the bakery, Bon-bon’s candy shop, the park, the train station, or anywhere in Ponyville, but I’ll keep looking! Rory sure is good at playing hide and seek!”

From up above, Rainbow Dash grumbled irritably with a quick glare down on Trixie before answering, “Well he wasn’t at Froggy Bottom Bog, for whatever reason he’d go there for, and so far I haven’t seen him in one of my flybys.”

As each of the assembled search party sounded off their searched locations Twilight marked off on the map each of the locations mentioned, “So, so far no pony but Fluttershy has seen him since early this morning...” She stopped to look around the room but found a lack of the canary yellow pegasus, “Where is Fluttershy?”

“She went to go check on Rarity, she’s still trying to clean up the mess Rory left behind at her place,” Rainbow Dash answered with a small shrug.

“Ah wish she was here instead, tryin’ to help find Rory instead of frettin’ over a little mess.” Applejack grumbled. They should’ve all been out searching, but AJ couldn’t blame Fluttershy for worrying about their friend. AJ was worried too, but the best way to help was to find Rory.

“Well from what I heard, it was not a little mess. The way Rarity describe it, it sounded like a typhoon had crashed through her house.” Rainbow Dash replied, though rethinking her words and how Rarity was a glass of spilled milk was considered a disaster to the dressmaker.

Twilight stepped forward, the list still hovering behind her, “Well we’ll just have to go on without them. We still have a lot of ground to cover and knowing how Rorschach is he’ll keep moving around and avoiding us. Applejack, I need you to go check back on Sweet Apple Acres, he might have dropped by while you were out. Pinkie, you can go check the Schoolhouse, and Rainbow Dash you keep an eye on the edge of the Everfree Forest for any signs of him. Trixie and I will stay in town and keep searching for him.”

"Okie dokie lokie!" Pinkie Pie said. Turning she hopped out the library door with a bounce in each hop she took.

“Hold up, Twlight,” Rainbow Dash said. Her eyes narrowed down at Trixie and said angrily, “why are we letting Trixie help us out? After the mess she caused last time I don’t see why we’re letting her stay in town!”

Trixie was upside down in the chair in her odd attempts to regain her strength and think of places their friend might be. She glared back up at the pegasus, she didn’t back down at the accusation. The bravado that she held close to herself bristled at the rainbow pegasus’ implications. “The Great and Powerful Trixie did nothing wrong the last time she was here. All she did was show her superiority in all things over every other pony,” the azure pony said proudly, turning to sit herself straight in the chair once again.

“Gee aren’t you humble,” Rainbow Dash sarcastically replied, glaring back at the unicorn she bolted down in the blink of an eye. The pair came inches away from each other’s faces as they let their animosity be known, “Listen here Trixie, you think you’re sooo great but-”

“Enough, both of ya!” Applejack quickly interjected before the argument could spiral out of control. She placed herself between the two... and surprisingly she stood with Trixie, “We can all bring up the past later but right now I know that Trixie has changed and she wants to help.”

“B-but AJ, don’t you remember the last time she was here? She embarrassed you in front of Ponyville!” Rainbow Dash stammered, caught off balance by AJ.

“And Ah’m still ticked off wit’ that but right now we have a friend who's in trouble and that’s more important than old grudges,” AJ said, letting her frustration out. She turned to the door, set to leave, “Ah don’t know about the rest of you but I’m going back out there and I’m going to go find our friend. “

The orange mare only got so far before colliding with something blocking the tree house’s doorway. She bounced back with her hat falling forward over her brow. She blinked to clear her vision as the girls behind her let out a gasp and for a moment her heart leapt, expecting to fix her hat to find Rory standing there safe and sound.

When she did pull the stetson back into place, her grin of joy turning to a look of surprise as she found herself looking back upon a tall white alicorn.

Next to Celestia was a parchment floating by the magic of her horn, “I just received your message, Twilight,” the princess said, “And I think I can help.” Curling the parchment up she gave a sigh, “But first, that requires me to be... a bit more honest with you girls.”

“Princess, what do you mean?” Twilight ask as the others joined together in gazing at the Princess.

Entering the library, Celestia closed the door of the library behind her with her magic. It was clear she was reluctant to go further, but she continued on, “Rorschach was not the first human to come to Equestria, nor is he the first to succumb to these symptoms,” Celestia said, "This happened once before when a pair of outsiders came to our world, far from Equestria, when Luna and I were still young..."

----------

Took longer than I expected to get here. Town was busy today, shouldn’t have stayed so long at farm but couldn’t leave any sooner. At least Applebloom joined her friends for the day, allows me to continue with the rest of my plan without worry of backlash. Midday, most of the town out on their usual errands. Some more worried than others, certain timidness to their actions. Reflexively glancing over their shoulder, peering around corners before moving forward, both results from escapade last night.

With members in the crowd more wary of my presence moving around the town proved more difficult than first thought. Getting the boutique would be slower than I hoped, did not plan on this great of a delay. How long did spa trips take? Couldn’t be more than an hour, perhaps two, but knowing the fashionista it may be much longer. Didn’t make sense to spend an entire day in one but then never liked spas. It was taking too long just to get into the dressmaker’s shop though.

Even with the place in sight I was having trouble getting there. The crowds were wary but one red thing in particular had keen eyes and a healthy amount of suspicion for his surroundings. Tall male from what I could see, red coat with blonde mane and gold star on flank. I’ve never seen him before, an odd statement considering the amount of time I’ve spent stalking the town and getting to know the usual errands of the townsponies.

Unlike the rest of the ponies that busied themselves with shopping and cluttering together into groups of gossip and small chat, this red stallion scoured the crowd with a critical eye. Like a police officer seeking a hidden thief, the stallion checked in random barrels, passing carts, and behind stands (much to the annoyance of the merchants attending to the stands). Standing next to Bob-bon’s Candy Store I could not get a clear view of the sporadic patrol of the red stallion but when he passed into my view I could clearly see the scowl on his face and the angry muttering he recited.

Instincts told me I may have been the cause of his anger, lost items don’t usually earn such vehement venom, not unless one was naturally angry. A naturally angry pony simply seemed... odd.

My thoughts are shattered when a hissing sound from behind me causes me to tense. It takes a moment for me to realize it wasn’t hissing, it was someone doing a poor job at trying to get my attention with an exaggerated ‘pssst’. I turned, my eyes tracking where the source of the sound came from.

I saw the color mint and groaned audibly. It was her again, the one with the fetish for hands. From around the alley’s corner from the back of Bon Bon’s store, the pony with the lyre shaped mark was hugging the wall’s corner. With one hoof swinging in the air she wildly waved to catch my attention. All the while hissing like a snake. “Heeeeey, pssssst! Over heeeeere~!”

I tilted my head to her and quickly cast a glance back to the crowd of ponies meandering around the square. I pondered the idea of making a run for it, dart through the crowd and risk the potential mob at my back. Another insistent hiss from behind caused me to place a hand to my temple in an attempt to calm the budding headache the cyan pony was causing me. “I can help you!” she whispered loudly.

Turning back around I was greeted with the eerie sight of the lyre marked pony grinning widely at me. I thought only the pink pony was able to grin that wide, reminded me of the Cheshire Cat from Lewis Carrol classic. Not the most comforting thought to follow such a smile but... taking one last backwards look at the crowd I found I had little choice. Cautiously I moved away from the alley’s entrance and tentatively closed the distance with the mint pony.

Upon my approach the mint pony smiled gleefully, bouncing in place. Under her breath I could hear her repeatedly say, “oh-my-gosh” in quick succession. I quickly began to question my better judgment in trusting this pony, even if I didn’t have a choice in the matter.

“You want to get by the crowds, right, right, right?!” Lyra asked in quick succession, shooting off words like an assault rifle. An assault rifle that bounced giddily with a twinkle to her eyes. Her pupils darted between my head and my hands with equal interests.

Still cautious of the unstable mint thing I answered, “need to get to Carousel-”

“Boutique?! I can get you there,” she practically shouted before catching herself in the act. Trying again in a conspirator’s voice she went, “I can get you to Carousel Boutique without anypony seeing you.”

The look she gave me told me that she there was going to be a condition to her help.

“But! You have to do something for me!”

Of course... After a sigh, I managed to grumble, “do what?”

“We need to hang out some time!” she said again in that barely contained joy of hers.

“Hang... out?” I repeated, the words sounding strange. Knew the meaning of what she meant, but I did not 'hang out'. Only had one friend, and we preferred steak outs in Artemis waiting for drug dealers to come out of hiding.

“Yeah,” she responded with much less resolve, drawing circles on the ground with one of her hooves, “you know... you told a lot of cool stories at Pinkie’s party and I wanted to hear more... and stuff. And since you always disappear into the forest you’ve never come back to town to give more stories.”

I didn’t like the idea of talking about where I came from, they didn’t need to know the sort of filth I had to deal with and the corruption that plagued every aspect of society. Nor did I want to recall the darker thoughts I’ve had, for fear of bringing on the hissing whisper in my ear that drove me to continue dispensing justice.

“We’ll see... if you can help me get to the dressmaker’s shop,” I told her. I could see the noticeable change from anxiety to joy with each syllable of every word I spoke. Before she was able to give a shout or cry for joy I managed to hiss, “but we need to get their quietly.”

She stopped in mid cheer, giving me a sheepish grin as she elected to give me a mock salute instead. Gesturing me to follow her we made our way around Bon Bon’s shop. She took the role of a spy too dramatically, trotting on the tips of her hooves like she was sneaking past armed guards. I tried to suppress the anguish of my growing headache.

When we got to the back of the shop, Lyra quickly went around the other side. There was a small commotion before she appeared again. "Ta-da!" Lyra said, presenting a cart with a red blanket over it, the lead resting on her back and pulling it behind her. "Bon-bon uses it to go deliver candy. She won't mind if we borrow it."

"Hurm," I said, the blank ink of my mask swirling. "Small... Will make do."

"Great! Told you I could help," Lyra said, giddy on her hooves again, "This is going to be sooo great! It's just like my comic book!"

-----------------------------------

“R-Rarity? Are you in here?” Fluttershy asked cautiously as she opened the boutique door, cringing slightly at the bell that rang above her head in a sharp contrast with the silence around her. Tentatively she entered and gently closed the door behind her, making sure not to make a sound. The bell had no qualms to break the silence, causing the canary colored pegasus to jump again at the sharp sound.

She waited, expecting to hear Rarity call out to her or the sounds of approaching steps. When neither came she continued into the boutique, the oppressive silence that surrounded her continued to follow each step she took. Looking around the boutique’s main show room there was nothing out of place. Fluttershy was expecting to find a disaster similar to the aftermath of a Pinkie Pie party.

The only thing missing was the fashionista herself. Peeking into each room on the bottom floor Fluttershy began a search in hopes of finding her friend, but she was quickly losing hope as each room she found no one. The kitchen looked untouched. The bathroom was unoccupied, or it appeared so as she didn’t bother trying to look inside.

She was prepared to give up when a crash upstairs caused her to dart behind Rarity’s plush velvet couch. The yellow Pegasus waited, looking about the dark boutique before venturing out. With a careful flap of her wings she brushed by the steps of the stairs, venturing up to investigate Rarity’s workshop. She bit her lip when she came to the closed door. Her hooves barely tapped the wooden stairs she put a hoof out. The door was left unlocked and slowly with a painful creak it opened up to let the workshop’s light peak out.

Inside, Rarity ran about frantically. Her pristine mane was a wreck with curls jutting in wrong directions and over curled. She darted from one ruined mannequin to the next, searching through the pile of destroyed clothes, and looking at a chaotic stack of designs. A light blue glow came from her horn, leading the way and dragging scissors, thread, and yarn through the air at a dangerous speed.

She never noticed Fluttershy carefully walk in. The unicorn was possessed, sleepless and beyond anxious. She had the rows of dresses set up again, yet each dress and ensemble she worked on steadily turned into a chaotic mess. One coat had suddenly turned into a skirt, a scarf sprouted legs, a hat was cut down the center. Despite how odd fashion could be, Fluttershy was certain no one would want to try and wear a dress made from a curtain and a paper bag.

“Um... Rarity?” The pegasus tried to get the speeding unicorn’s attention as she flew by once again.

“Oh no, that went there! No wait, it was over here. That wasn’t the right color. Red with orange?! What was I thinking, that isn’t right! I’ll never get any of this done. All my work is ruined!” She was crying, tears falling to stain whatever sheet of cloth she looked at and the measuring tape strung around her neck, dragging on the floor.

“Rarity?”

“Where are my glasses, I put them down just a second ago!” She frantically looked about, her glasses tilting from its spot above her horn.

“Rarity.”

“I know I have more gems, they've got to be here somewhere. There’s no way I would be out of rubies!”

Fluttershy stopped in front of the trembling unicorn as she tried to run by again. “Rarity. Stop, please.” Her voice was quiet yet commanding.

The Fashionista blinked, “Fluttershy? When did you-” she shook her head and tried to move around her friend, “ I need to get back to work! I have a half a dozen ruined orders that need to be done by tomorrow, seven by the end of the week, and there’s just too much to do, darling!”

“Rarity, stop.” Fluttershy moved in front her friend, “You can’t keep working like this, do you even see what you’re making?” She gestured over to the mannequins and for what seemed like the first time Rarity saw what she was making. “You need to stop, please. Just for a little while? A teeny little while?”

“But... So much to do... And...” Her lip quivered and before Fluttershy could get away Rarity threw her hooves around her and cried. “Oh, Fluttershy! What am I going to do?! I can’t do all these dresses again, they’re all ruined-and-and-I-don’t...”

“Oh, Rarity.” Fluttershy tried to comfort her while not being strangled by her. “It’s alright... We’ll think of something.” The unicorn continued to cry as the pegasus surveyed the destroyed room. She hadn’t realized how much damage Rorschach had done, it didn’t make sense how he managed to do all of this. It hurt to see her friend’s home in such a state, and it hurt even more to see Rarity as she was.

“Um... Come on, maybe some time out of here will clear your mind? Maybe... Just a little spa time?” She offered a small smile, “Just a few minutes to freshen up, then you can get back to work with a clear mind. How does that sound?”

Rarity sniffed, allowing herself to be led away from the disaster. “Spa... Yes, just... A quick trip to the spa...” she sniffed again, “I can work through the night, skip meals... Just need to get my thoughts in order.”

The door closed behind them, Rarity muttering about what one dress or another. Fluttershy did her best to comfort her. Quietly the pair left the boutique in the direction of the spa. The end of their conversation drifted to the pair sitting patiently in the bushes. “-And I don’t even understand why he would do this, I just... I thought he was our friend...”

When the pair was a safe distance away, one figure rose to his full height and moved around to the door. Opening the door, the figure was followed by a pony. Like thieves the pair moved inside the boutique, and gently the door was closed behind them.

---------------------

Lyra leaned against the door, breathing a quick sigh as she said, “I don’t think anypony saw us… So, what are we doing here again?”

I had my back to the mint annoyance. The pair would return soon, very little time. I started up the stairs as Lyra called out, “H-hey! Where are you going? Do you need me to watch the door or… Oh... Okay I’ll just… stay down here... then.”

When I reached the top of the steps I moved to the door I needed. I knew it well, I’d been here before. Twice, to bring violence. This time, I planned to change that. The door was left ajar, with a small push I stepped inside to see the disaster I caused. Ripped fabrics, broken mannequins, some could be salvaged. Rarity had tried to fix the disaster, seemed problems occurred. Clothes sewn incorrectly, signs of sleep deprivation. Frantic, shaky. Lucky hooves were tough, expected blood if ponies had fingers to prick with pins.

This was all familiar to me. A time before Rorschach, when Walter Kovacs was a person working in textiles. I walked over to the table beside the sewing machine. Strange design, but same concept. Beside it were papers strewn out with designs for dresses, hats, and assortments of clothes. Didn’t understand fashion, let alone need for clothes in this society. Then, never understood fashion in my world. All I knew was how to recreate, and with recollection my hands remembered how to sew.

I found the nearest fabrics I’d need, gems for accents, and thread for the machine. Sitting down I looked once more to the design Rarity had drawn for herself. Elegant handwriting had down lengths, proportions, everything I would need. With only a moment’s hesitation to figure out how the turn on the machine I got to work, the sewing machine feeding expert threads into the fabric to let it take shape. The process was slow. Hands shaky from recent fight with phantom imposter and inanimate objects. Slowly they remembered though how this process worked. They adapted, growing confident as they moved for scissors and shears to cut away pieces of cotton cloth. Different species perhaps, but recognized the makings of a summer line. Warm colors, reminded me of the billboards with young woman showing off clothes on a beach a world away from New York City.

The work was tedious, but strangely calming. Forgot how I was able to shut my mind off. Never enjoyed working with women’s clothing, and so I learned to let my hands do the work and to push my mind away to efficiently complete the task. It allowed me to think of my actions, to think about this imposter who took my mask. Not enough evidence pointed to where he came from, possible magical source given likeness. I recalled the old German myth of the Changeling, creatures left in cribs to replace babies and feed off the love of the parents. Full grown, changlings were said to love spreading strife and mischief. Possible they existed here, but the old myth didn’t fit. This imposter had a clear motive, to make certain I was alone and to force me to make enemies. It could have killed me, but chose not to. Possible greater scheme, or perverse enjoyment?

By the time my thoughts returned to reality I had completed a dress, but come no closer to the mystery driving me mad. Rarity knew her clothing well. Easy instructions, but couldn’t say how long it took. Rarity hadn’t returned, and luckily the Mint Annoyance had not tried to bother me.

I held up the dress, a vanilla yellow meant to go with a velvet colored sash. A lighter shade of vanilla tapered the edges. Would need to touch up the accents. I looked over to the rest of the designs, then to the room around me. Some designs were made, but poorly. Some corrections and they would be adequate. Not much time, better that Rarity didn’t see me. Moving aside the sewing machine I grabbed the gems I needed. Small holes were already drilled into the back for easy stitch. I got to work, once more letting my mind shut off. I set my hat down and draped my coat over the chair and got to work.

Time passed by with barely a notice. The sun outside had started to lower to to the horizon. I continued to work quickly and steadily. Didn’t need to worry about creativity, that part had been done already. Only needed to recreate exact to the design. More and more of the clothes were finished, each one done being sat on one of the unbroken mannequins. Sadly wasn’t a carpenter, not enough to fix that. The orderly chaos diminished to simple order as I worked. By the time I was interrupted only two pages of design remained with the fabrics needed placed in a pile beside my work space when the Mint Annoyance downstairs called out, “Rarity’s coming!”

Quickly I set aside what I was doing and grabbed my coat. “What-do-I-do, what-do-I-do?” Lyra was whisper shouting up the stairs. Before I could step down though the bell chimed. Lyra must have been distracted, poor choice in lookout to give so little warning.

I started out the back at the window as Rarity’s voice drifted from downstairs, even after the spa she sounded tired and downtrodden, “Lyra? Oh, I’m sorry I got carried out from my work. I didn’t know you had a dress ordered though, I hope you weren’t waiting here long for me.”

In a horridly fake act of casualness Lyra answered, “Whaaat? No. Y’know, I’ve just been here for a… few hours for… reasons, no big deal. I… wanted to place an order! Yes! Uh, one dress, please! From the workshop upstairs that is most definitely empty until you make your way up the stairs, where you are currently at, heading up to your workshop that should be empty.”

Felt my eyes roll as I dropped down from the window sill. If that was Lyra’s attempt to subtly warn me of Rarity’s approach then he made a definitely poor choice in lookouts. Didn’t get to hear the rest of the conversation. Lyra could handle her own kind. Done all that I could here, Rarity could handle all of the two designs. I stuffed my hands into my pocket as I walked away from the boutique, making sure that mob was gone. From up above I heard the shrill cheer of the fashionista, discovering her workshop.

I continued on towards the library. Had one last letter to leave behind, after that… I knew how to keep the ponies out of harm, just one last monster to face.

“Hey you, stop right there!”

I stopped as the voice commanded, one very upset voice. I was prepared to run, but slowly turned around as my fingers curled into gentle fists. It was a reflex, one that was for naught as I suddenly and unexpectedly was forced into a tight hug.

Rorschach in Equestria

by Ex-Nihilos

(1) Rorschach's Journal, First entries

(2) Second Day

(3) They're Afraid of Me.

(4) Wolf Hunter

(5) An Awkward First Encounter

(6) The Berserker's Justice

(7) O' Death, Spare me another Year

(8) Party of the Century

[Bonus Chapter] Off on a Tangent

(9) Betrayal

(10) Never Trust the Color Azure

(11) A Dead Boar and Slapstick Therapy

Side Story: Meeting Fate Weaver (By Imperius)

(12) Putting Down a Friend

(13) Lunar Meeting

(14) Smooth Talker

(15) "Hello Mr. Kovacs"

(16) Chasing Shadows

(17) Fear

(18) A Better Day: Part 1

The Flow of Time

(19) A Better Day: Part 2