Ah, night. The perfect floodgate that unleashes everypony’s true desire: The lustful hiring partners, the murderous hiding under the cloak, the whimsical finding beauty in the never-ending wonder that is the night sky, the curious studying the raw wonder that envelops our planet. Personally, I just use it to go to my favorite secluded spot, find a nice rock, and stare at the stars, until I become tired enough to sleep. Lately, I found my spot has signed over as a romantic retreat for young couples. Finding my own retreat taken yet again, I wander the streets around town.
“Yet another night, stolen by couples that will be over in a week,” I grumble to myself, “How the heck is a rock, a dumb mound of hard earth, become more romantic than a dinner and a mov-”.
I stop myself, hearing a soft whimper coming from the alley directly adjacent to me. Fearing that some poor filly has gotten lost, or worst, I ran into the alleyway.
“You better not be Salt Pinch.” I heard the voice say, pain and fear fluctuating throughout the sentence, cracking in such a way it makes the voice nothing more than a whisper.
“Listen, I don’t know who you are, or who that is, but if you’ll allow me, I’ll sit here awhile with you, and listen. It seems like you have something against this Salt pony. Who are they?” I spoke softly and calmly, not wishing to scare whomever it is anymore.
The voice from the alley forced back a sob, remaining in the shadows. The pony had forced back multiple sobs over the course of the next minute before they put together enough composure to speak again. “He-he’s the bastard that...ra-raped and beat me.”
“I’m very sorry. If you want, I can find them.”
“I-I would lo-love nothing more than him dead, but...it has been so long. I don't even know if you could find him. ” The pony in the shadows crawled out of the box they were hiding in, staying in the shadows, showing the outline of a thin, bony figure, to skinny to get any characteristics.
“Don’t worry. I've made a hobby of tracking ponies down. Can you tell me anything about him?” I spoke, keeping my voice low and calm to avoid an incident. With how high strung they struck me, it worried me that they might snap, and with the previous request on murdering the stallion, I feared the shadow-figure might have a back-up plan.
“He.....he might still be h-h-here. He’s white...and.... likes to dress nice, has a...y...yellow streak in both m-m-mane and tail, and...a salt shaker for a cutie mark.” They informed me, stuttering and pausing often throughout, as though the mention of him will cause him to appear.
"Do you know why he assaulted you?" I asked cautiously, hoping to bring them out a little bit more.
“Well, he... he... went crazy. He seemed normal when I met him, and....w....we went out. And so we went to a restaurant... bu...but then he started seeing his ex, so I left... and then he... he snapped.”
“Did he attack outside the restaurant?”I asked the figure cautiously, not knowing when they could potentially snap. The figure squirmed slightly, clearly uncomfortable with the answer.
The bony figure slumped down, squeaking. They became much quieter, almost whispering their answer. “H-h-e foll..followed me out. I just wanted to leave, but- he jum.....jumped on top of me. H-h..he just kept punching and punching,and then... he...he started to....”
They didn't finish the sentence. They didn't need to. Just seeing how this stallion destroyed them, I vowed that I would finish their request.
I will kill Salt Pinch.
Why hello there, my good . If you are reading this then you (hopefully) don’t hate my guts and find this premise interesting. Many aspects of my side of the story are (very unsubtly) borrowed from better written and better known work, such as Fallout: New Vegas and Fallout: Equestria. My characters name is a name I have used as my Noms de plume in gaming, writing, and just about anytime I didn’t want to use my boring name since around 2007. After learning that one of my favorite writers had an OC of the same name, it concreted down as my favorite false name.. That being said, I adopted a new name. Half of this story is written from another writer I meet on Omegle chat. The whole reason this story exists on this page is because of an anonymous brony/ pegasister had an epic chat that Omegle kicked us out of, and now I hope to find out who they are, just so I can thank them. The story will end at a random point, as that was when Omegle forcibly stopped the conversation. Thankfully, I thought ahead and took screenshots before this point. The screenshots should be at the end of every page, without spoilers (If i can figure out how to). Anyway, the thing that you hoped to see without this preachy ramble is up next. So don’t change the channel! …
...After that, it might just be best for you to go now and never look back. Just keep running. I am so sorry that horrible joke happened. I’m sorry, I am just so embarrassed. This has never happened before. I promise it won't happen again. Hopefully. Please take me back.
